In May 1953, a tall and very thin man with graying hair walked into the Calhoun, Georgia jail, asking for a place to sleep. His request was granted, but he was found dead the following morning, the victim of a cerebral hemorrhage.

Apparently, no one had asked the man’s name, and as authorities began to investigate his identity, they learned that he had told a waitress he had a wife in Maryville, Tennessee. This somehow led them to Ova Shore, who, when shown a picture of the deceased man, identified him as her estranged husband, Frank.

Ova contacted her brother-in-law, Ballard Shore, of Virginia, and the two traveled to Georgia to examine the body. Although there was some degree of doubt in their minds, Ballard thought the deceased man looked very much like his brother, having two scars exactly where Frank had scars and having odd-shaped ears that were identical to Frank’s. Feeling confident enough that the deceased man was Frank, they shipped his body to his hometown of Boone, North Carolina. There, he was further identified by his mother, sister, and another brother. A funeral service was conducted, and despite the preacher’s disbelief that that the man in the casket was Frank, Frank’s loved ones wept for him and grieved their loss.

Soon after, Ballard began having misgivings and was troubled by the fact that, only two days before his brother died in Georgia, Frank had written him a letter from his home in West Virginia. So, to alleviate his suspicions, Ballard traveled there and knocked on the door. Surprisingly, Frank answered. According to Ballard, it was like seeing a ghost. 

The family was, of course, overjoyed that Frank was alive but disturbed by their error. Who had they buried in the family plot? One newspaper headline comically read, “Man Buried At Boone Just Wasn’t Himself.” As Ballard would tell a reporter. “It’s a shame about that other fellow. I hope they find out who he is. At least we gave him a nice church funeral.”

Fortunately, the FBI was able to use the mystery man’s fingerprints to identify him as 53-year-old John Wallace Lynn, a “restless rambler,” who had lived in multiple states and worked various jobs until he became homeless and drifted through the southeast. Following his identification, he was returned to his hometown of Mitchell, Indiana, where he received a second burial.

As for Frank Shore, well, he lived another twenty-two years, dying for real in 1975.