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My visit with Bram Stoker
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| Added By: |
aaronlovecraft |
| Added On: |
December 10, 2007 - 05:29 PM UTC |
| Last Modified: |
December 10, 2007 - 08:21 PM UTC |
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| aaronlovecraft's Trip |
| On our recent trip to London to visit our son (who's attending Fall semester with the Syracuse University London Program), the four of us took the tube up to Golders Green, where we walked to the Golders Green Crematorium. Cremation has been the preference for many Britons since the early 20th Century, and Golders Green was one of the earliest facilities to offer a peaceful, suburban environment in which to scatter the ashes of the dead. Among those reposing there (either in urns or scattered across the expansive lawns) are Peter Sellers, Keith Moon, Sigmund Freud, Marc Bolan, Pavlova, Eric Coates, Charles Gray and many, many more. The person I was particularly seeking out this sunny November day was Bram Stoker, author of Dracula. A knowledgeable grounds keeper helped us find several folks, but told us we'd need someone to let us into the columbarium where Stoker's ashes repose. A very kind young woman from the front office lead us, keys in hand, to the Gothic, wooden door of the East Columbarium. The lock did not yield willingly! When we finally did gain entrance, we found ourselves in a dimly lit, damp, echoing chamber, the walls of which were lined with niches of all shapes, each housing a small urn or box, also of many shapes. Our guide took us to a staircase, and lead us up two flights, to the third floor. At one point, my daughter would remark, quietly, "Is it wrong that I like the way this place smells?" I knew what she meant. It was not a smell of decay. After all, ashes don't rot. The air smelled of dampness and cold, old stone. The lady from the office flipped a light switch. Scanning the niches surrounding us, I caught sight of Stoker's elaborate urn. There was a fresh rose in a jar next to it, indicating that the author had been recently visited. I took a couple of pictures while the cemetery lady told us that there was the urn of a Titanic victim on the floor below. I was simply taken that within this white, regal-looking box before me were the remains of one of the most influential writers of our near history. Dracula is a household word, practically around the world. And the ashes of the man who first penned "I am Dracula" were within my reach. Heady stuff for a horror fan. |
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