- Aug 26, 2004
“ Those we fear, are who we do not understand. Those we understand, are considered allies. What I understand should bring fear.”
When I was a child, my mother would insist I spend all manner of hour in my room studying. Like most youths I enjoyed losing myself in the adventure stories of whatever book, or periodical my chubby little hands could get. When I was ten, I think it was in July, it was raining outside and the grit and grim of London seemed to wash away. Mother and Father were down in the parlor reading, I felt it was time to explore the inner sanctums of our home. What I found was nothing amazing, but it did let me go into the attic and listen to the rain hit the roof, a sound which I love to this day.
A trunk was in the back corner. It was large, sturdy, and bound with leather straps across the hood. A brass plate read “J. Harker.” With immense curiosity I undid each strap, and opened the trunk. My adolescent mind pictured Solomon’s treasure, or gold to rival that of the forty thieves cave. Instead I found books, and bundles of papers.
It was at this point I realized it was my fathers distant cousin Jonathan Harker’s belongings. He was a solicitor to a prestigious law firm in London. The family spoke of him in tones reserved for a rapist or murderer. Being ten, and never allowed to ask of my distant relative I searched through the trunk.
Inside were books detailing budgets, common law from farthest India, and finally a diary. At last, I thought, the answer to the Harker family mystery. Upon opening it I was sadly mislead. I talked of his wife Mina, her friend Lucy, and various suitors she had. Worst of all it ended upon his trip to the Carpathian Mountains, on the border of Transylvania and Bukovina within Romania.
My heart sank, I felt like the great adventure my family once had was a sham. Then I saw something which made my young mind open to the possibilities. On a letter, with J. Harker letterhead, it spoke of his trip to Transylvania. It was signed Dracula.