Space-time continue, um...

During my band's rough-but-not-regretted tour of the UK a few weeks ago, I turned, by standard Western ageing parameters, 27 years of age. Regardless of what time of day one enters the world, birthdays are usually all-day affairs beginning at midnight the day of. And in my case, that's not far from the beginning of my actual life cycle, which (according to a reliable female source) commenced at 1:33am on August 31 in 1978. (Remember! That's 1978 "A.D.," as in anno domini, as in year of our Lord, as in, could anything possibly be stupider.)

If memory serves me, it was sometime after midnight on September 1 that our tour van broke down. Apparently, for a vehicle to operate properly, its cam belt needs to be, in technical terms, "not broken." In practical terms, all this meant for us was that the van stopped running and we had to pull over; no flying parts, no fires, no terrified soiling of selves.

BUT! Let's assume for a moment that something more serious had gone wrong and that I had been killed. No, no, dry your eyes, I'm fine; I just meant for the sake of the proceeding argument. Had I died at or around the time our van broke down, I would have been 27 in British Summer Time, but still 26 in Eastern Standard Time, my home time zone. What age would be listed in newspaper accounts of my death? Would it be different in the UK and the US? How does this work? If you have an inkling, please post it in the comments.