It was a Friday night in March 1963. I was supposed to meet Jerry, a friend of mine, at a lounge because he was going to help me move into my first apartment.
I entered the lounge but could not see him anywhere. I did see three people I knew from work. I asked if I could sit with them until Jerry arrived, to which they responded favorably.
Sounds like a pickup line today, doesn’t it?
We chatted, and it got later and later. Eventually, it dawned on me that Jerry was not coming. One of the men offered to help me move, and I accepted.
We went to my parents’ house and loaded up his car (no furniture, just clothes), and he helped me carry it all up three flights of stairs.
Well, from that day forward, I saw him every day.
We worked in the same building, so we met for breakfast, and shared our morning break, lunch, afternoon break and dinner together.
Two months later we were married, and we will celebrate our 50th anniversary in May. Best missed connection of my life!
Oh, and Jerry did not stand me up. He had the flu and had called my mother to explain.
But by then, it was too late. I was gone, hook, line and sinker.
Harpers Ferry, W.Va.
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