Monday, December 29, 2014

Nostalgia Time

Judy and I met on December 29, 1960, on a blind date arranged by her friend Loibeth Black and my friend Fred Williams.  On the left you can read what Judy wrote in our wedding book about that night.  I remember exactly what she was wearing, and though she doesn't mention it, she also wore what was then called a mouton coat.  Just about every girl had one of those back then.  I wouldn't be at all surprised if it were in a closet somewhere in this house.  I don't know if she was impressed by me, but I was certainly impressed by her.  She was a senior in high school, and I was a freshman in college.  She was black-haired beauty.  I was a short-haired, four-eyed geek.  It didn't take me long to learn that she was also very smart, and if I didn't fall for her on that date, it wasn't long before I did.  After a few dates I could tell that she liked me, too, for reasons I'll never understand.

We always celebrated December 29 as an anniversary and gave each other a gift every year.   This is the first time since 1960 that we won't be together on this date.  I miss the old days.

11 comments:

James Reasoner said...

Beautiful. The two of you were really special. I suspect Judy knew that right away.

Tom Johnson said...

A memory to cherish.

Deb said...

A lovely memory--and how comforting it must be to still have her hand-written memories of that first date.

Anonymous said...

I've probably done a lot of things wrong in my less than storied life, but one thing I did right was play a small part in getting you and Judy together. And how could she resist you. You were wearing shoes with laces. If that wasn't a mark of class and sophistication, I don't know what would have been.

Fred W.

Anonymous said...

Beautiful story, Bill. Jackie wants to know how many days in Texas were cold enough for a mouton coat. She thought it was a Brooklyn thing.

My parents always considered their anniversary to be Christmas Eve, the night in 1941 they met at a Christmas party. When her date got drunk my father volunteered to take her home. They wrote all during the war when he was overseas (she kept the letters).

Ours would be New Years Eve, the night we got together (IYKWIM) at a party. We had known each other as friends for a couple of months before that (this was 1966) but that was the night it changed.

Jeff

Unknown said...

Seems like this time of year is good for romance.

Kevin R. Tipple said...

That it is. Wonderful memory.

Cap'n Bob said...

No mention of you wearing pants.

Seriously, this is really sweet. Was she always a diarist or just in those schoolgirl days. She has nice handwriting, too, which I envy.

Anonymous said...

I am really sorry. Grief hurts most when we are unable to share what is most special with our beloved. I'm glad for the years you shared; sad for those you will not. You are a feeling man who still has love for.his wife, which speaks well of you. Please take to heart that there are many of us holding you in our thoughts.

Jerry Mecaskey

Unknown said...

Thanks, everyone.

Max Allan Collins said...

A post lovely in its heartbreaking simplicity.