…and an old ’52 Ford pickup truck.
Crossed telephone lines. One summer night. Listening to the radio as the deejay took requests and dedications for songs ---
We didn’t know it then, but we were given a life sentence to serve together and it began in ’64.
Our story begins from a phone call in the house on the side of the mountain.
There wasn’t even a rotary dial on the phone I was using, in fact, there were no push buttons either. Nor was a private phone line available in the coal camp where I was raised. To know that a call was coming through for us, we would hear two rings in succession.
It was the summer of 1960, and I was thirteen years old; that was the era of “puppy love” and Doo-Wop sounds. Street dances, sock hops and record hops were offered regularly. To while away the time, I (as many teenagers did), loved listening at night to my favorite disc jockey awaiting an opportunity to call in a song of request for my teen age crush. Funny, isn’t it, the one that we might adore from afar, the one who stole our hearts, had no idea we wanted a song request sent out to him or her to tell them of our love. No last names were given so they didn’t have a clue; it was important to remain anonymous.
On this night though, as I attempted to call in that special dedication, the phone service went awry! First, I had to go through the operator and ask her to get the number for me, but before she could say, “sorry, that line is busy,” it sounded like hundreds of other teenagers connected simultaneously and somewhere ‘out there’, through the phone cable, amidst a large group of puppy love- smitten teenagers wanting to request a love song, I heard a voice say, “what’s your name?” and I said, “well, what’s your name?” He said, “Give me your number and I’ll call you back. I can‘t hear well through all this noise” Not sure if he was serious, but I gave him my number anyway and hung up and he did call back. Again and again and again. For the next four years.
He taught me to drive his '52 Ford pickup, straight drive with column shift. I'm forever grateful for that I learned mechanic speak through our years of dating.
Over time I've enjoyed being able to, at any given moment, put aside my mixer long enough to go outdoors and with a wrench in hand, steady a floorboard bolt in a '55 Mercury or take time to help with installing a clutch.
Present day facts reveal an ever-changing society…We feel that we had the best of times from which to reminisce.
And one more thing. The Valentine’s Day card that I bought for my boyfriend around 1962, we still have it, tucked away. It is a Gibson brand, a fold out 3D card. Though the envelope is a little yellowed with age, it remains intact. My boyfriend and I have aged as well, but we love to have our memories stirred of bygone days.
Feel free to leave a comment,
Comments