THAT EERIE FEELING by John Harbison, Olney, Maryland, [email protected]

Over the years, visits to family members in New York have been joyous occasions. Several years ago I decided to visit Greenwood Cemetery in Brooklyn to see if I could locate the HULL family gravesite. My great-grandfather, John Wright HARBISON, in the 1880s married Anna Carrie HULL, daughter of Amos G. HULL.

After contacting the cemetery to ascertain the exact location of the family plot, my wife and I drove to the huge cemetery. With the exact location of the gravesite dutifully plotted on a crudely drawn map, we slowly wound our way through the hills. As we approached the location, my heart began to race and I had an eerie feeling. The family plot was not very large, but I had my map and the assurances of exact coordinates. The moment arrived and my wife and I pulled up to the spot. As I got out, my eyes scanned the horizon, looking for what should have been a large gravestone marking the HULL family. Disappointment set in as we pulled back weeds, squinted at worn headstones, and canvassed the entire area, but found no HULL family gravesite.

Time was quickly passing and we had to get back to our family. Dejected, my wife and I got back into the car and began the slow journey back through time, back through the cemetery to the main gate. As I turned the corner just beyond the "exact location," looking to the left out the car window hoping beyond hope that I had just missed the gravesite somehow, my wife, looking out the right side of the car shouted, "Honey, look, Francioli!" There before my eyes was a huge family headstone emblazoned FRANCIOLI (pronounced FRAN see o le). An eerie feeling crept into my being. As a kid I had a teddy bear that squeaked when its belly was pressed, and I had named it FRANCIOLI. Ah. Fond memories of nights cuddled up next to my friend and protector, my teddy bear.

My wife and I exchanged glances knowing that the memories only couples share had rung true. But, before we could make that second glance, there appeared the HULL family grave site, right next to the FRANCIOLI headstone, in a completely different area of the cemetery. The only reason we did not pass it was the fact that my wife had remembered the name of my teddy bear. Dumbfounded, I jumped out of the car, camera in hand, and bounded up the slope to the "exact location." There before my eyes, was the entire Amos HULL family. My wife found a small flower and placed it on the marker for Anna, my great- grandmother. My wife and I exchanged another glance, knowing that the eerie feeling we had as we entered the cemetery an hour before had just hit home.

Moral of the story: Teddy Bears have more power than you think!