Cemetery road dust
Hello, dear readers. As promised, I’m sharing the next part of a chapter of my book, continuing from part one in Newsletter #7.
I have a couple things I need to explain for context. First, at the start of this section I mention Heather. She is my ex-wife, but we were married and living together in Portland at the time of my trip to Pennsylvania. Second, my dad had a nickname that started when he was a kid. He received a winter hat as a Christmas gift, and he wore it to school on one particularly cold winter’s day. The hat looked like a Russian style “ushanka”, or trapper hat, with the long ear flaps. From that day forward, his nickname was “Russian.”
“The question is not what you look at, but what you see.”
After I composed myself, I called Heather. I explained that there was a slight change of plans, and I was waiting for a call back from Red or Denise, and hoped I’d be able to meet them somewhere. I had no way of knowing when this call might come so I continued with my plan to go see my grandparents’ headstones. Since I was driving, I asked Heather to help me find the gravesite locations for my grandparents. I had no suggestions of how to do this, and the only information I had was a photo of my grandparents’ headstones, the name and address of the cemetery, and that the cemetery closed at 5pm.
My ETA to Trafford was 3pm, and at this point I was about 90 minutes away. She called me back after a while to tell me she called the cemetery and spoke to a woman who said she’d email her a map, highlighting the section where they were buried, which the lady stated was called “The Lovers”. Despite that this email never arrived, I was still hopeful I’d find them. How hard could it be to find a headstone in “The Lovers” section?
I pulled into the cemetery entrance, and drove around looking for an information center, a map, or a human who might be able to point me in the right direction. I didn’t find anything helpful near the entrance, but I did find that you could drive into the cemetery from multiple roads. I didn’t have a map but I did have a choice of roads to get lost on. Naturally, I entered on the far left road and began creeping along, searching for clues. I made my way around the entire cemetery without finding a single sign or post indicating sections, other than noticing there were statues in the middle of each plot of grass. From the roads, though, I couldn’t see if the statues had any identifying markers.
After driving around for 20 minutes or so, growing in frustration and worrying that I’d never find them, I decided to get out on foot and use the last hour or so of time I had before the gates of the cemetery would presumably close. I studied the handful of statues I could see from my vantage point, hoping one would start glowing or waving at me. Not only did they not glow or wave, but every headstone looked identical, and they lay flat on the ground, surrounded by well manicured but tall grass. The only way to read the name on the headstone was to basically stand over it.
At this point, I started to panic. It had been a few hours since I’d spoken to Denise and I hadn’t gotten a call back yet. I was in Trafford, PA, and I desperately wanted to see my grandparents’ headstones with my own two Drakulic eyes. And now I had another potential disappointment - what if Red never calls back? What if he wasn’t well enough, or interested, in meeting me? About as quickly as the worries entered my mind I swatted them away. Of course he wants to meet me, and I WILL find the headstones.
I took a deep breath and studied the statues once more. I then noticed that one of the statues was of two people, embracing each other. Lovers, perhaps? The statue was about halfway up the hillside of this particular section, and I started walking toward it. I’m not sure what caused me to shift my focus to the right, but I looked over and saw a tree. Nothing spectacular, but it seemed to be pulling me toward it. I changed directions diagonally to the right, toward the tree, checking each headstone within my purview as I trekked along.
I started chuckling at the ridiculousness of it all. There had to have been hundreds of headstones in this section alone, and it would have taken me hours to walk the plot checking each one. But I kept walking toward the tree until I noticed the plot would soon come to an end - there were maybe three more columns of headstones along my intended pathway before I’d reach a paved road. I looked down at that moment, and there they were - DRAKULIC - Joseph Sr. and Dorothy - my grandparents. I burst out laughing as I squatted down to touch my hand to their names and introduce myself. “Hi…I made it. Thank you.”
Photo taken April 23, 2022, 4:06pm, with 54 minutes to spare. I was never one for visiting cemeteries before this.
My view from my grandparents’ headstone (seen bottom right). The statue of The Lovers is seen up ahead. To the left of the statue, my white rental car is parked on the road.
I was picking some small flowers that were growing near Dorothy’s side to take home with me as my phone rang. It was Red. His kind voice, so gentle, in that elderly man way that I’d recently grown so fond of. He spoke softly, and I could hear the contrast of Denise’s vibrant enthusiasm in the background, as I told him that I was currently sitting at the Drakulics’ headstone. He replied, “oh, I know right where you are, it’ll take us about 15 minutes to get there.”
I walked back down the hill to retrieve my rental car from the side of the road, a few hundred yards away from my grandparents. I parked the car near and placed my grandma’s little purple flowers safely in the center console. I found a cozy spot beside my new tree friend and sat down to wait for Red and Denise.
Every car that entered the cemetery gave my heart a jolt. Is that them? Do they drive a black sedan? Nope, they turned down a road going the opposite direction. Oh! Do they drive a small blue SUV? It hasn’t turned yet, it’s coming my way! Nope, they turned down yet a different road, going perpendicular from where I sat. A few moments later, a small silver SUV came barreling down a side road, at the top of the hill, where I’d have reached had I kept walking toward and past the Lovers statue. Dirt and dust swirls clouded the air as the car came straight toward me. Somehow I knew it was Denise driving, like a bat out of hell, no doubt shouting “oh my GOD” at her quiet, gentle husband.
I stood up and walked toward the center of the road to meet them as they parked. As I predicted, it was Denise who was driving, and she was the first out of the car. This warm and loving woman, with tears in her eyes, covering her mouth with her hands, started to walk toward me before she stopped herself, to let Red approach me first. There he is, the fourth Drakulic brother. My dad’s best friend of nearly 80 years. I’d imagined this moment countless times, being able to meet this man - what would he be like? What would he think of me? What would he say? How long before I’d get to hear his legendary laugh? As we reached out to hug each other I could hear Denise say “oh my god, you look just like Russian.” At that, Red let out a chuckle. I could see tears in his eyes, and I no longer wondered what he thought of me. There was no question, he loved me, just as he loved every other Drakulic.
To be continued next week in Newsletter #9.
P.S. Enjoy some pictures to give lovely faces to the names Red, Denise, Grandpa Joe & Grandma Dorothy.
Red & Denise. I took a picture of these two prints side by side. These prints were in a collection of photos I got from my uncle Joe, about two years prior to meeting them in person. I estimate these pics were taken in the 90’s, based on the colors of Red’s shirt.
Another picture of a picture from my uncle Joe’s collection. This is my grandpa, Joe Sr., with Floyd, affectionately called Red. I estimate this was taken in the mid-60’s.
From left to right: Red, my grandma Dorothy holding her little black dog, and my dad. Again, I estimate this to be from the mid-60’s.
