Yesterday as Diane and I were taking our morning walk around Belle Parc, the nice RV park we are currently staying at, I happened to mention, for some unknown reason, that we were childhood sweethearts. I also said that we had been together for a long, long time.

“We were not childhood sweethearts” she replied.

“We meet in High School. We were seventeen and...”

“Yes,” she said, “but we were not children.”

“Well, we were high school sweethearts, and I guess we were a bit older than our years.”

“High school sweethearts? We were just friends.”

I am not sure I agree we were just friends. We became friends, but somehow more than that too, almost at the moment we first met.

That day, which was sometime in the middle of March 1971, as well as many of the days leading up to it, are very easy for me to remember.

Diane and I were both seniors that year. She was quite popular with our class. She was on the Senior Council along with some of the most well-known and well-liked seniors. Jimmy, our Senior Class president was very close to her and very protective, like a brother. I would find out just how protective. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I was not that popular in school. Most of my closest friends were church friends, none of whom attended my high school. I had two close friends, who happened to be young ladies, whom I saw regularly. One was named Anne, a tall girl with very straight long blond hair and green eyes. I spent time with her on many Friday or Saturday evenings. Sometimes I saw her very late after she finished her hours working at a lady’s clothing store. And, at that time, on a regular basis, both in person and on the phone, I told Anne that I was madly in love with her. The first time I said that to her I really meant it, and she laughed at me. It took me quite a while to get over that.

She had a great laugh.

Anne was the person I took out on my second real date. It was to the Lake Taylor High School Junior Prom which took place in February 1970. The Junior Ring Dance as it was known back then. We juniors received our high school rings at the dance and it was a pretty big deal. Anne, much to my surprise, agreed to go with me. This was also a big deal. She was ten months older than me and a very pretty girl, some guys used the phrase “a knockout” when referring to her later.

I didn’t realize just how remarkable it was that she would go out with me. I really liked her, and she seemed to like me.

The night of the dance I put on my rented dark blue brocade dinner jacket, plain white tux shirt, and real tie-it-yourself black bow tie. I slipped on my new shiny black leather loafers, with the big silver buckles, and grabbed the pink carnation wrist corsage in the plastic box out of the fridge. I sat in the passenger seat as Dad drove us to Portsmouth to retrieve Anne. I did not have my driver's license, not yet.

Anne looked great. She was dressed in a wonderful form-fitting dark pink formal gown, white fur wrap, glittery silver gloves, with a matching clutch, and matching shoes. I slipped Anne’s corsage over her wrist. She, sitting very close to me in the back seat, chatted more with my dad than with me, as she shed silver glitter all over my black slacks. I didn’t mind that a bit.

We went to the dance. We had a good time, well I did for sure. My friends could not believe I was there with a girl like Anne and told me so. Late that night, after the dance, standing on her front porch, she gave me my first good night kiss. I had no clue what to do. I think she could tell that. After our heads parted, she looked at me with those great green eyes, and said,

“I think you can do better than that.”

Then she put a beautiful soft glitter-covered hand on each side of my head and proceeded to give me my second kiss. A very slow one. That one made me dizzy and weak in the knees.

Two nights later I told her I loved her. Her response was that great laugh.

“You are kidding me, right?” she said after catching her breath. (well maybe it wasn’t quite that bad)

“No”

“Well get over it and fast, I have a boyfriend stationed in Vietnam and I don’t think he would like it.”

That was news to me and it wasn’t at all good. Now, why didn’t she tell me that earlier?

I didn’t see her again for months, outside of church and not often there. I did not see her again until after the school year ended and after she broke up with her boyfriend, who I found out later, was her maybe fiance, whatever that meant.

In August I passed my driver’s license exam. I could now drive legally. I spent quite a bit of time with her throughout the rest of the summer and into my senior year.

I would go over to her place. She had her own den. We would sit and talk, about life in general, our futures, watch TV, sip cokes, eat potato chips, and well, quiet things. She didn’t want to go to the movies, bowling, or dates like that. Anne did go with me to my high school Christmas dance and I convinced her to let me take her to dinner and a showing of Love Story over the Christmas holidays.

She hated it and told me so, many times. She said that it was because her father died from cancer. I guess I understood that.

That was it, no more dates. We still saw each other in church and talked on the phone every now and then, she kidded me about being in love with her. Then, as the first semester of the school year 1971 wound down, she told me she would not go with me to my senior prom.

Thanks a lot, Anne, I haven’t even asked you yet.

Wasn’t meant to be, I guess.

I wrote a poem about Anne as part of an English creative arts class. One of the lines was something like this,

When I am with her, I fall into her green eyes. Like the news flashes that move on the side of the Times building, they send me messages, but they go by so fast I can’t read them. She confuses me. I think I will leave my mind in her lap and go home.

My English teacher liked that last part.

Eventually, I stayed home, and my mind found its way back there too.

While seeing Anne I met another young lady. She too was blond, but with sparkling blue eyes behind glasses. Her eyes sparkled when she laughed or smiled. Her family attended our church and they had a Bible study in their home that I attended. Marty was a bit older than me and quite mature for her age. It wasn’t long before I realized I had strong feelings for her. I think I told her something to that effect after knowing her for quite a long time. She didn’t return or share those feelings, not then. But she didn’t ridicule me either. Marty was just too nice a person to do that. We became very good friends and stayed that way for years. She was not like Anne. But like Anne, she told me she would not go with me to my Senior Prom. She too, said no, before I asked her. I tried my best to get her to change her mind. She would be more than happy to have me take her to hers, which was the same night. I didn’t want to do that. She didn’t mind. Some nice young man from her school was sure to ask her.

Soon it was February 1971, and once again it was time for the Junior Ring Dance. Being a senior I was not eligible to go unless a Junior lady asked me. That was not likely to happen, so I was not thinking about it all.

Then I was asked to go.

It was at the end of the first period. I had Concert Chorus practice then and Gary, one of my best friends, grabbed me just after we sang our last song and class ended. He told me he had a big favor to ask. I said sure, ask away, and if I can do it I will.

“Would you do me a favor and take Susan to the Ring Dance?”

I was shocked.

“Why do you want me to do that?”

“Because I can’t dance.”

“Well you could learn, it’s not that hard.”

“I can’t dance, because I am not allowed to.”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot,” I said.

I forgot that Gary was the son of a Quaker minister and dancing was frowned on. So the junior prom was not going to happen for him. The Senior one would not either. Susan, however, really wanted to go to hers and who could fault her for that? Not Gary. He trusted me, at Susan’s suggestion, to be his substitute.

I agreed, how could I not? Susan was a tall young lady with beautiful long and curly red hair, green eyes, freckles, and an alto voice that was so good it could make grown men cry when they heard it. I loved singing with her, our best soprano Melody, and with Gary and the other voices in that room. Those moments around the piano were some of the best times of any I had during my whole school career.

“Sure, Gary, I would be glad too, it would be an honor.” Hey, I liked phrases like that even then.

I treated Susan the same as if she were my girlfriend and had asked her out myself. Dinner, flowers, all that stuff. We actually got along very well, enjoyed everything a lot, and danced every dance. All was great fun including the after-prom party at the house of a mutual friend. It was a great party, no drinking, except for one glass of champagne each. I think that was enough to loosen everyone up for some charades, and some other games, the last being a crazy little thing called Choo-Choo Train. I was not familiar with this activity.

It consisted of a guy or girl who knew how to play, pointing to someone of the opposite sex and then choo-chooing out of the room and out of sight into the dining room. At first, there was nothing but silence from the train. Then explosive laughter was heard and the train would choo-choo back into the den, the station, where the last person would choose someone else to be the caboose. This went on for a few cycles. After the train had about six cars, Susan being the one at the end, pointed to me. Okay, I was not sure what is going to happen but I’ll play along. We shuffled off to Buffalo into the next room and then it happened. The Engine turned and planted a big kiss on the next car, that person turned and did the same to the next, and so on and so on. Susan turned to me and puckered up, and so did I, expecting something really nice to happen, and then she slapped me. Not very hard, but it was still a shock. I did not get upset, and the rest of the train laughed. So that is how it is played is it? Now it was my turn to pick a victim.

We Chattanooged our way back into the den. The few left in there started hooting at me, suggesting loudly who I should pick. I looked at the girls, and chose the prettiest girl in the room still sitting, I chose Allison.

Allison was the president of the Sophomore Class. She was a blond-haired, almost white, blue-eyed lovely young lady. (Is there a pattern here?) Allison’s best friend Dana was also there at the party. Dana, a sophomore, was with her date, Mark, a junior who was a very good friend of mine, had been for years. Mark’s older brother, a sailor, worked with my dad on the Naval Base. This illustrates just how small the world can be sometimes.

Allison, looking a bit anxious, stood and joined the end of the train, which now had eight cars, she being the caboose. We choo-chooed, arms pumping, out of the den into the dining room and around the table. The engine kissed the coal car and so on, Susan made it good for me, and then it was my turn to plant one on Allison. She closed her eyes, leaned forward and I laid one on her but not what she expected, at all. The train erupted in squeals and laughter. Allison’s eyes popped open, well like she had been slapped. She rubbed her cheek, which I didn’t damage much, and said,

“What was that!?”

“That is what you get to do to the guy of your choice” was my response.

Her eyes lit up.

“Oh, I get it, well let’s go get him!”

We chugged back to the station, Allison choose an unsuspecting young man to follow her, and back we went. This time I really got to kiss her and man did she ever make it good. I am sure the caboose, I think it was Mark, became very anxious for her to turn towards him, and she did.

Whack!

What an expression on the poor guy’s face. Allison loved it. I think we had to hitch two more cars, and well you know what that meant.

The evening was a train load of fun but it had to end eventually.

I took Susan home and walked her to her door.

“Thank you, Derrick, I had a great time. Maybe too good. I think we might not want to tell Gary about the train game.”

“Oh, yea, that’s probably a good idea. I had a great time too. See you Monday.”

I started to kiss her cheek.

She turned her pretty freckled face towards me, gently took my jacket lapels, pulled me close, and gave me a very nice kiss good night that was better than the previous four or five she provided earlier.

She whispered softly in my ear,

“See you Monday” and went inside.

On the way home, I thought to myself, I really like her, too bad I can’t ask her to the prom. There are some lines you just don’t cross, besides it is three months away. I can find someone to go with me. I have time. No problem.

Sometimes we just kid ourselves I guess.

You may be wondering what this is all about, this stuff I am writing. Well, it is about life, my life, and the lessons I learned from it. One of those lessons is that things do not always happen the way you want them to or the way you expect them. You think something very pleasant is about to happen and then you get slapped down, but then….

A week or two later, I heard through the school grapevine that Allison had such a good time at the ring dance and the after-party that she had been hoping to get a date to the Senior prom. I also heard from my Sophomore friend Oz (the great and powerful) that she was not opposed to going with me!

Wow, go to the prom with Allison? She and her sister Claudia, who was graduated the year before, were two of the most popular girls ever to attend Lake Taylor. So much so it was like some kind of legacy. I didn’t quite believe she would go to the prom with me. I found the courage to call her. I asked the important question and she, without hesitation said, Yes, she would love it!

I got myself a date for the prom!

Not so fast there fella, here comes the slap.

I called her one night about a week later, with the intention of asking her if she wanted to go to a movie. I figured why wait until Prom to take her out.

She, mercifully, made it quick,

“I can’t go with you to the prom, something has come up that night.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that...what…”

“I have to go, maybe we can talk later, bye.”

Click.

The air came out of me fast, I should have known, with my luck. Now what? I needed to buy tickets, make dinner reservations, get a tux, but I needed a date first. Time was running out.

One Friday night in late March, at her house, I tried, once again, to convince Marty to go with me. She wasn’t having it. She might not get a date to hers, but she was not going to go to mine, she didn’t know a single soul at Lake Taylor but me. No thanks.

Not sure exactly how much time went by after that, but one Saturday morning, after a long night working the second shift at the local Kelly’s burger joint, I got up late. I had some breakfast and went and sat down in the den to watch some TV. I turned it on and the first thing I heard was Pat Robertson’s voice. It was his weekly Bible teaching program, Sunday School for adults I guess. He sometimes answered questions from letter writers to the program. This morning he was answering a question about marriage. The question, actually, two questions was, one, do you think there is love at first sight? And two, how do you know when you have found the right person to marry?

I figured why not watch, the answers might be interesting.

Mr. Robertson said that there could certainly be a mutual attraction at first sight and it could be a very strong one. As far as it being love, well God is love, and if he was not part of the equation then no, it is not love at first sight. Lust, at first sight, is far more common.

He said that no one should enter into a serious relationship, one that leads to marriage without God entering it too. A good marriage, one that will last, one that can stand the ups and downs of life, is actually the union of three persons, not two. It is a love triangle. He then drew a large triangle on a blackboard behind him. The bottom line of the triangle had a gap in the middle. On the top, he wrote God, on the left bottom corner he wrote Husband, and on the right corner, he wrote Wife. He said the closer these two, pointing to the man and wife, come to God, the closer they come to each other. They will never truly be one if they do not move in this direction. He moved his pointer to the top of the triangle. It isn’t easy if they enter this marriage without knowing him first. They may actually move away from each other as they move towards him, and that can hurt, a lot if only one is dedicated to God. But if you understand this now, while you are young, if you give your life to God first, then when you are ready to find your life’s partner, you will pray they know Him too. The bottom line is this, first dedicate yourself to God, pray to Him to lead you and guide you and pray the same thing for the one you are going to marry, even before you meet them.

I think Pat provided really good answers to these questions about love and marriage.

I heard my Dad tell someone the best answer to another very important question, “How do you know when love is real?”

He said, “Real love makes you want to become a better person, for the one you love.”

I think dad’s advice fits right in with Mr. Robertson’s answers.

Everything I heard made sense to me, but hey I was young, not looking yet, I just wanted a date to the prom not to become engaged. This dedicated to God thing, well I didn’t feel the need to do that. Not yet anyway. I had a relationship with Him. I believed in miracles, that was for sure, but right now it seemed a bit early to get that serious. When the time came, well I would certainly be more committed, dedicated, whatever word you want to use. Just not now.

I sat there for a minute, and as kind of an afterthought said in my head to God.

“When I meet the one and know it, then I will do whatever it takes to be close to her and to you too, deal?”

One should not make a promise to God without realizing He just might be listening. And He will hold you to it.

Not now can become now sooner than you think.

On Monday I went to class, it was a normal day except for one thing. At lunchtime, I found out from Oz (the great and powerful) why Allison changed her mind about going with me to the prom. She would not go because her best friend Dana could not go, not with Mark anyway because he was a junior. I didn’t get why Allison would not go without Dana, but Oz said it was some kind of girl thing, and don’t try to understand it, you will fry your brain.

I didn’t try to figure it out, but I sure didn’t like it much.

My second study hall was right after lunch so I planned to do what I normally did most days, go get a pass from my study hall teacher for the chorus room which was next door. That didn’t happen for the first time all year. My teacher called in sick so our study hall was combined with the one next to ours, and no passes were provided. I walked into the room next door, a bit disappointed that I could not go to the chorus room and sing harmony with Gary, Susan, and Melody.

I looked around and saw one of my study hall mates, Rosemary, sitting next to a girl who had her feet up on the chair in front of her. The girl had long black hair, tied in a ponytail, that was hanging in front of her right shoulder. She was wearing a black jumper over a white blouse and she had on calf-high black boots.

The girl had her head down. She was looking thru a stack of photo prints. Not knowing anyone else that I cared to talk to, I wandered over, pulled up a desk, and sat down next to Rose. She was also looking at the pictures. She looked over at me.

“Hey, Derrick this is my sister Diane.”

Diane looked up and gave me a small smile.

“Hello”

At the first sight of her long black hair with one curly wisp on her forehead, her dark brown eyes, her white teeth, and the beautiful little dip in her upper lip, something shifted inside of me, in my heart. I learned later that dip is called in Ancient Greek (and she is Greek) the philtrum which means Love Charm. Well, it worked. I was charmed.

“Hi, nice to meet you”

“Rose you didn’t tell me you had a sister.”

“I don’t know how you two don’t know each other” Rose said.

We talked and were surprised to learn we had been going to the same high school for three and a half years and never met each other before.

The pictures she was thumbing thru were of the Ring Dance. I looked at them and told her I was there too. The pictures of her in her cranberry-colored gown were really very beautiful, especially one of her looking in a mirror. Diane was, still is, beautiful.

I found out where she lived, what classes she was in, what mutual friends we had, that sort of thing. I realized that I liked her very much after only one forty-five-minute meeting. I also sensed something about her, that she had a kind and gentle heart, a heart that was also a bit sad. I felt the urge to ask her if she was okay. That seemed like a question I should not ask, not after just meeting her.

The next day, instead of going to the Chorus room, I went with Diane to the Library. There I learned a bit more about her.

I learned that she had been an elementary school classmate of Marty.

I learned that Diane had gone to the Ring dance with a young man she cared for very, very, much.

The previous Friday night, her mother broke them up, she forbade Diane from seeing the young man again, which was very unreasonable considering they went to the same school. Now I understood why Diane seemed sad because she was.

It was the morning after the breakup that I made my “not very serious” promise to God.

Diane and I spent most study halls together in the school library. We found a quiet corner table and just talked. Serious talks they were too, about our families, our faith, what we hoped to do in the future. We had much in common, mostly dealing with our mothers, both of who suffered from mental illness at some time or another. We were both the oldest kid in our families, each with two boys and two girls. When our mothers were ill, then it fell on us to look after the other three kids. It was not easy. We found out we understood each other, even though our personalities were much different. She was quiet and thought before she spoke. Me, heck, I am just the opposite. That has not changed to this day. Diane had plans to go to college. I had no real idea what I was going to do after high school, except getting a job for the summer if not longer. We both looked forward to getting away from our homes and living on our own, she more than me, but not by much.

One day, sensing time was running out, I made a suggestion to her.

“Look, Diane, neither of us has a date to the prom. Sure seems a shame to miss it, so why don’t we go together?”

I guess that was not much of a proposal, but it was enough.

“I don’t mind doing that.”

“Okay, well, Okay!”

I had a date to the prom. Let’s see if this one actually happens.

I had to wonder just that, when I saw her and Johnny, the boyfriend she was not supposed to see, in the hall together. Usually, they were talking in a corner, he would give her a hug and as she went on to class, I could see she had been crying.

It didn’t upset me or make me jealous, which can be the same thing, it just made me sad a bit, and a bit unsure of what to do or even if I should do anything.

A couple of my friends expressed concern about me taking her to the prom. Greg, who was on the Senior Council with Diane, really felt strongly about me dating her.

“Look, Derrick, her mother’s a bit crazy. She never lets Diane date a guy more than once or twice before she tells him to get lost, so if you really like her, you won’t be able to for long, if you get me.”

“Come on Greg, it’s just a date to the prom.”

“I am just saying, you could be setting yourself and her up for some heartbreak.”

Jimmy was blunter. We were going to some fast food joint in his green and white Z-28.

“So I hear you are taking Diane to the Prom?”

“Well, yea, she didn’t have a date and neither did I so I asked her.”

“That’s it? Like what is she, your last resort or something?”

‘Well, no, that’s not how it is. I like her. I’ll be good to her. “

“Diane is a great girl. You better treat her right, because if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

This came from someone who collected venomous snakes and kept them in glass boxes in his room. I figured there was a very good possibility he was not kidding me.

There was one day a week or so before the prom, when I was sitting in Study Hall, talking to a friend of mine. Lourdes, a young lady who I also worked with at Kelly’s, knew the situation. She asked me if I was looking forward to going to prom with Diane. I said sure.

“I did have this wish, fantasy, whatever, that I would go with a girl who I really cared for a lot, we would keep dating through the summer, maybe through college, if I went, and if we stayed together long enough, maybe get married one day. Does that sound a bit crazy to you?”

“No, just surprised that you, being a guy, would want something like that.”

“Well, I guess I have seen too many movies or something, but I think that would be a cool thing if it happened.” Actually, I surprised myself with that idea. I should not have gone to see Love Story, I guess. Besides, it didn’t turn out well in the end, did it?

I rented a tux soon after that talk. I would be wearing the same one to our end-of-year Concert Chorus Formal concert. Gary and I made a deal with the formal shop to give a discount to any senior in the chorus who rented there. They could have two rentals for the price of one. The concert was just a few days after the prom so we would all keep our rentals to wear to both events. I could not make up my mind what to wear, a tux or dinner jacket. I made the poor guy at the store scratch out his order so many times he could barely read it later. I finally settled on a white dinner jacket with black satin lapels (wide ones in those days) blue ruffled shirt, and a black tie. I wore the same black shoes I had worn to both ring dances. I decided to do something special for Diane so I ordered a white sweetheart rose and daisy nosegay for her. It wasn’t cheap but I told Jimmy I would treat her well.

Over the next week I became very busy. I, side by side with Diane and other Seniors, helped with the Prom decorations, which this year was “An Oriental Evening”. I helped make a large paper dragon. The long tail hung on the wall of the hall that led to the school foyer. The foyer was quite large, big enough for a prom. The mouth of the dragon, which went across the hall, was the entrance to the foyer. We placed buckets of dry ice, provided by Diane’s father, who owned a soda fountain service business, inside the mouth to make “dragon breath”. The outside courtyard, which we fenced in with chicken wire and brown paper, had tables decorated with Japanese lanterns. There were two Japanese bridges, one over a lighted pond complete with fountain and water lilies. My dad and I built that. I spent the night in the school courtyard with Jimmy and a couple of other classmates to make sure no one damaged anything (a rival school had made threats). I didn’t get any sleep, but I did get dinner. Dad delivered pizza to us, he came, and passed it over our fence.

The big night finally arrived. I had washed the car that morning, and cleaned out the inside, the full everything. I got dressed and headed over to Diane’s place at about five I guess. I rang the bell, and Diane invited me in to meet her brother and her mom. She lived in this really large house in one of the fancier neighborhoods and I felt a bit intimidated. She put me at ease when she made it very obvious that she loved the flowers I gave her. Her mom did too.

I soon discovered I had forgotten the prom tickets, so we made a quick stop back at my place. Diane waited in the car and got a bit of a surprise when Dad opened the door to introduce himself. I retrieved the tickets and jumped into the driver’s seat. Dad told us to have a good time. We were off to pick up a couple of Diane’s friends, Dale and Marilyn.

We had been invited by some other of Diane’s friends to have dinner with them at the Norfolk Yacht Club. This was quite a bit fancier than where I might have taken her. I had not decided where that would be. Good thing I didn’t have to.

Dinner was good. I had my first Escargot, and shrimp steamed in ale. Diane had Escargot and Shrimp Scampi. Steamed shrimp may not have been the best choice for a formal evening, kind of smelly and all. Our waiter took care of that, but I didn’t realize it at first. I had no idea what to do with the bowl of water he brought to the table. I sat there with this dumb look on my face. I am sure of that even though I couldn’t see it myself.

Diane, somewhat amused, leaned over to me.

“It’s a finger bowl, so you can wash your hands, try not to splash.”

Okay, that explains what the extra linen napkin was for.

We all had some kind of fancy dessert, but I don’t remember what it was. Baked Alaska maybe?

We came to dinner with Dale and Marilyn, and they went with us to the prom as well.

I am just going to say this in as few words as possible. Diane and I had the most fantastic time. The band, Kalabash Corporation, was great. The dancing was great. The food was great. My friends were great. Diane wore a long dark green velvet gown, so dark it was almost black but shimmered emerald-green if the light hit it just right. She looked so beautiful. I was proud to have her on my arm and in my arms.

After the prom, we headed out to as many house parties as we wanted to attend. I think we went to two or three. There was lots of food, chit-chat, and games, and the night ended with a trip to the Virginia Beach oceanfront, where we parked and watched the sunrise. We sat there with the windows down, warm sea air wafting in. I shed my tie and my cummerbund.

Diane watched me wiggle the thing around to unbuckle it.

“Ah, now that feels better.”

Diane put them on the bench seat next to her as she moved over closer to me. It seemed that the time to go came much too soon.

We dropped off our double date friends.

I returned Diane home, to her back door, at about six thirty in the morning. We kissed goodnight, a very long one that she thought was almost too long. She told me that later.

I walked slowly back to my car, got in, and started the engine. As I started to pull away from the curb, I glanced into the review mirror and was surprised to see Diane in her bare feet, running to the car, waving something. She caught up and leaned in through the passenger window.

“Here, I can’t take this into the house, it would cause a bunch of trouble.”

She handed me my cummerbund. I didn’t have any idea that she had put it on while I was driving her home. I guess it would be hard to explain why it was in her bedroom at 7 am in the morning. Smart girl, that Diane.

Finally, I arrived home. I needed a couple of hours of sleep, so I took them. Just before I dozed off, I thought about this wonderful evening I had with this dark-haired girl. I felt something more than a good case of “like”. Something a whole lot more. I had to keep seeing her, that I knew for sure. Something about her made me want to be a better person. I began to think, maybe, just maybe I had a promise to keep.

Well, you may be asking, did you keep seeing her? What happened next?

Eighteen months later I married her, that’s what happened.

The details of those eighteen months? Well, that is another story, a pretty good one too. I just may tell it……Someday.

Oh, one last thing, the Monday after the prom, Oz (the great and powerful) told me that Allison was very upset. She was drafted, as president of the Sophomore class, to manage one of the drink tables at the important Senior prom. She had to ladle out punch when she could have been dancing if she had kept her date with me. Dana, her best friend, was not there.

What can I say? Sometimes life slaps you, other times it gives you a kiss.

Derrick