What Lies Beneath

Of the many signs one sees while driving in the Washington area -- Bridge Freezes Before Roadway, Fines Doubled for Speeding in Work Zones -- perhaps the oddest one I've spotted recently was at the intersection of Route 236 and Guinea Road in Annandale.

It read: "If you have any knowledge of anyone buried at this site or their descendants please call 703-383-2281."

The Virginia Department of Transportation put up the large, metal sign. VDOT wants to know where the bodies are buried.

Or rather, they already know where the bodies are buried. They want to know what to do with them.

You see, the intersection is scheduled to be widened sometime in 2006. But just about every map shows a cemetery at that location. You'd need X-ray vision to see anything, however. Nothing is visible above ground: not a sign, not a headstone, not a marker.

Maheen Nasim lives in the house closest to the graveyard. When her family first learned about the cemetery, "it was a little freaky," she said. "But we don't think about it much."

Those who bulldoze and backhoe their way across our area have to consider the possibility that they'll uncover coffins. People have been dying as long as they've been living. They have to go somewhere. Sometimes they get in the way.

This isn't a new problem. As far back as the 19th century, local cemeteries were being "repurposed." In 1895, Congress decided that the Graceland Cemetery at Bladensburg Road and H Street NE was "interfering" with the city's growth. By Jan. 1, 1898, the graves were gone, and the area was ready for redevelopment.

Even fame won't help ensure that your final resting place will be, well, final. The last members of the Fairfax family to die in the county that bears their name were relocated in 1960 to make way for the Dulles Toll Road. They got hit by the double whammy of unforeseen technology: moved so that a vehicle that hadn't been invented when they died (the automobile) could make its way to another vehicle that hadn't been invented when they died (the airplane).

Andy Williams is the person who put up the sign on Guinea Road. Williams is part archaeologist, part private detective. In his 37 years with VDOT -- the last 25 in the division that secures the right of way for building projects in Northern Virginia -- he's pored over countless deeds and land records, chasing down alleys both literal and figurative. Old cemeteries are just a small part of what he does. Still, in the past five years, his department has relocated about 50 graves from a half-dozen different sites.

His latest case didn't look promising.

"Really when I started on this I thought, 'We'll never find anything,' " he said. Although the cemetery was well known, Andy had no information on any of the descendants. So he turned to historian Brian Conley of the Fairfax County public library's Virginia Room.

"And Brian, much to my surprise, had a complete history of not only that cemetery but just about every cemetery in the county," Andy said.

The Gibson-Parker Cemetery is named for Horace Gibson and Moses Parker, African American blacksmiths who set up shop in Fairfax County about the time of the Civil War. It apparently saw its last burial around 1891.

In his files, Conley had contact information for two Gibson descendants. One lead went cold immediately: The gentleman was dead. The other tip didn't seem much more promising: The phone number was disconnected. Williams had an address, though, and he headed over to a house in Springfield.

It looked as if no one had been home for a while, but Williams dropped off information anyway and spoke to neighbors. The next day, Gibson's great-great-great-grandson called from Washington state, where his Army Reserve unit had been sent.

Williams now has a wealth of information, including a family reunion mailing list and the names of 17 other family members to contact. Later this month, descendants of Horace Gibson will gather and talk with VDOT, which will pay all the expenses involved with relocating the graves.

As for that eye-catching sign, it's the first time one has been used. Usually VDOT puts up a piece of typing paper covered in plastic, nailed to a post.

"I felt like 'let's try something different,' " said Andy. "Let's put a sign up people can read."

It certainly made an impression on the people driving down Guinea Road.

"I guess that's why somebody stole it," he said.

When Andy sent someone over to take the sign down the other day, it was gone. Not a trace remains.

Kind Hearts

The Eastern Market cheese counter was crowded a few weekends ago when reader Ed Oseroff witnessed this transaction:

"Hi, Alice," the counter guy said as a short elderly woman walked up. "Let me see what you've got for me today."

She held up her pad of paper, showing him a crayon drawing: four hearts scrunched in the middle of the page.

"That's great. I'll give you five dollars for it."

He went to his drawer and handed her the money, gently reminding her to give him the drawing. She pocketed the $5 bill and then carefully -- slowly -- detached the drawing from her pad and handed it over, never saying a word but clearly proud of the exchange.

Researcher Alex MacCallum contributed to this report. Need to get in touch with me? I'm at kellyj@washpost.com, or 1150 15th St. NW, Washington, DC 20071, or 202-334-5129.