Teacher pines for Ernie doll lost in Seattle

He's about 4 inches tall, with a faded orange head, bulbous red nose and fuzzy, rather peaked, black hair. Last seen wearing a holey red-and-blue-striped sweater with matching blue pants.

Have you seen this doll?

Leslie McGourty of Greenville, N.H., hopes so. The 32-year-old high-school physics teacher lost Ernie on a recent trip to Seattle, and life hasn't been right since.

Have you seen Ernie?


Text goes here if you have any to put here. Otherwise you're better off not putting any here...

Of course, if you don't have any to put up there, then there probably isn't any for you to put here....

*Notes, disclaimers, etc.

She knows it sounds ... odd. Most people probably wouldn't consider the loss of a diminutive, well-worn cloth "Sesame Street" character an emergency.

But she's heartbroken over the disappearance of "Little E" near Seattle Center the evening of April 25.

He is, after all, quite dear.

It was 1986 in Seaside Heights, N.J., a beach town near McGourty's hometown. She was 16 and hanging out with her boyfriend, Cliff. He spun the prize wheel on an arcade game and out popped Ernie.

"I guess it was my first gift from him. He was my first love."

The two dated until she was 21, then broke up. Her fondness for the doll, however, remained. "Little E," McGourty said, "was a way of looking at the past without having to go back to it."

Over the years, he became a talisman, a companion. Ernie has crossed the country with McGourty on a motorcycle and journeyed to Canada, Mexico and Paris. He witnessed her graduation from Rutgers University and wedding to husband Patrick. He kept a friend of McGourty's company during surgery.

Everywhere they went, McGourty snapped his picture. Seattle was the duo's latest jaunt.

McGourty last saw Ernie near the Space Needle. She was fighting a gray sky, trying to get a good shot of the doll against the landmark. Frustrated, she gathered her camera equipment and headed up Mercer Street to Pagliacci Pizza.

"After I ate, I looked in my pocket and started freaking out. I went up to the guy (at the counter) and I said, 'Look, I'm not a freak.' " She asked the pizza folks to call her collect, send Ernie C.O.D. — anything — if he was found.

Then she retraced her steps. She wasn't really sure if she'd left him near the Needle or if he'd fallen out of her pocket. She reported him lost.

Lori Melendy, who works in Seattle Center's lost and found, still remembers how upset McGourty was.

"She was just in tears," Melendy said. "When she came up here crying, I was sure she had lost her keys with her purse and her money."

McGourty called her mom and her husband, who told her to go back the next day. She questioned people in the area. It was raining and she was wet, with eyes red from a sleepless night. "I probably looked pretty scary."

That afternoon she had to fly home — alone.

She placed an ad in The Seattle Times, offering a reward, but so far hasn't heard a peep. Ernie is so well-known among her friends and family, she has been receiving condolences since she returned.

"I know it seems bizarre because he is, after all, cloth, but I guess people just associate him with me and me with him."

She still has a sizable "Sesame Street" collection at home, with about 200 Zoes, Telly monsters, Cookie Monsters, Berts and Ernies. Her husband is looking for a replacement, but filling Ernie's red booties will be tough.

"He's got a big butt and little, skinny legs," she reminisced. "And he's got a cute smile. Even dirty, he's just cute."

"I want to believe he was picked up by someone who's loving him. But he could be a hacky sack right now."

Paysha Stockton can be reached at 206-464-2752 or pstockton@seattletimes.com.

If you have information about Ernie, please call Leslie McGourty collect at 603-878-4869 or e-mail Tesla27@hotmail.com.