Reminds me of the time my elderly neighbour went on a coach trip to Pontefract with the local church. They'd just pulled out of the car park, when she decided to slip earth's surly bonds.
Rather pragmatically, I think, the remaining 39 had a show of hands – officiated by Canon Slack, who I understand, said a few words – and decided to continue with their daytrip, leaving the late Mrs Powell on the coach.
I suppose old folk are a little more accustomed to dealing with death, although I do feel sorry for the driver who had to sit in a coach park for 6 hours with a corpse propped up on the seat next to him!