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Ironing It Out
—Susan (Hyte) Dalling, '66 - Rexburg, Idaho
In 1962 I left my home in Salt Lake City and moved to Provo to attend BYU. I was so excited about this new adventure I could hardly stand it. On my second night at the ‘Y,' my roommates and I went to have dinner at the Cannon Center snack bar. I am not sure what it looks like now, but at that time the little snack bar was located inside the main lobby of the boys' dorms, and there were windows looking out to the lobby and the information desk. As we were eating, I looked through the window and saw this very good-looking, tall, dark, handsome guy come through the doors from outside. I thought in my mind, "Now there's a guy I could marry!"
Those words no sooner ran through my mind when one of my roommates saw him too and said, "Hey, I know that guy! I went to high school with him!"
I asked her to introduce us, so she signaled him to come in with his friend. I remember the feeling exactly! I fell instantly in love with Brad Dalling! In the next 15 minutes or so, it was determined that our apartment needed an ironing board, and he and his friend needed someone to iron their shirts. Brad bought the ironing board, and my roommate and I started ironing their shirts.
My roommate eventually stopped, but I have been ironing Brad's shirts ever since. We were married a year later, in October of 1963. I will never forget the feeling when I first saw Brad. It was like something that was "meant to be"—and it all started at B-Y-Woo!
It All Began at the "Y"
—Joan Riley Thomsen, '58 - Provo, Utah
In response to your article and request in "Love and Marriage at BYU", I am sending a copy of a poem I wrote to my husband on our fourth wedding anniversary.
Our children could relate to your story about hearing about your parents' romance dozens of times. They have also heard this poem dozens of times as well as hearing about the class down on the "lower" campus where we met.
My husband grew up in the Los Angeles area in California. I grew up in Bountiful, Utah. I was in my second year at BYU when he arrived at BYU after completing a mission to the West Central States. The class we met in was a recreation class (party planning) that was very popular and hard to get into, so we both felt very fortunate to get in before the cut off. The first night after the class he stopped me and asked my name, where I was from, where I lived, and my telephone number. We both had roommates with us. After I arrived home that evening, I received a telephone call, and the person on the other end of the line said, "We met tonight after class." He asked for a date and I accepted. When the night of the date arrived, I was very surprised when it turned out to be his roommate, as he hadn't entered into our conversation after class. Lynn called me for a date the day after I went out with his roommate. That was the beginning of our courtship and a wonderful romance that is now in its 46th year. We were married in the Salt Lake Temple on August 27, 1954. Most of our married life we lived in California (Anaheim) and raised our children there. My husband Lynn had a successful career of real estate development.
From 1985 until 1989 my husband served two mission president assignments, and at their completion (we had sold our home in Anaheim) we returned to Provo to enjoy our retirement years and to be close to BYU once again. We often reflect on how fortunate we were to meet and court on the BYU campus.
Our children all had college experiences at BYU. Our two sons both graduated from BYU and our son, Steven R. Thomsen, is now an Associate Professor in the Communications Department.
Just Window Shopping
—Patty (Nash) Northrup, '86 - Las Vegas, Nev.
During my fourth fall at BYU (1985), I had prepared for a date and was waiting to be picked up in my Campus Plaza apartment. (Is that building still there?) As it was Friday evening, my roommates were relaxing by listening to rock and roll music turned up loud. I like music, and I was swaying to the beat—kind of dancing through the apartment as I mused and waited for my date. I slowly became aware that I had stopped wandering and was dancing in front of the large window (sliding glass door size).
At that point I wondered, suddenly very aware of my visibility, if anyone had seen my foolish behavior. I glanced around the courtyard, checking all the windows of the three floors that I could see from my vantage point on the top floor. First floor, two wings, windows empty. Second floor, two wings, windows empty. Whew, almost there, and no one had seen me. Third floor, one wing empty, second wing? Oh no! There was a young man in an easy chair, leaning way back, arms behind his head, staring straight at me, smiling! With an angry (embarrassed) shake of my finger to let him know he shouldn't have been watching me, I jerked the window curtain cords, shutting the curtains and blocking his view.
Thus began a month of window antics, trying to catch one another doing silly things. My roommate Chrystal had a pair of binoculars and suggested using those to really "get" him. I did, and he left the window. I was disappointed that he didn't want to play, but then he reappeared, using two empty toilet paper tubes as his binoculars!
We eventually dated and got engaged about three months after the initial window incident. We now have four children and two master's degrees, and my husband is working on a PhD at the University of Las Vegas at Nevada, while I teach kindergarten. All this from one unaware moment at a window!
Lies, all lies. . .
—Clyde B. Northrup, '88
Lover's Lanes
—Shea (Toly) Van Fleet, '98 - Provo, Utah
I was spending the summer between my freshman and sophomore years working at home in Alberta. My friend, Noelle, was in California. She called me one day and asked me if I would like to take a bowling class with her in the fall. I thought it sounded fun, and it filled my PE requirement, so I agreed. We tried to add over the phone but all the sections were full. We decided to try to add one of the sections on the first day of class. We got to the bowling alley early and were sitting on the air-hockey table waiting for class to start, when in walked this cute-looking boy. I immediately told Noelle I thought he was cute. When he walked by he looked at us and I said "hi" to him. He said "hi" back and then sat down. We decided to go sit next to him, and we ended up talking the entire class. When class was over he left and we stayed to try to add. When we were done adding and were walking out of the WILK, I ran into him again. He said he had forgotten something and had to come back, but I later found out he was really just waiting around for me. Anyway, we exchanged phone numbers and the rest is history. We have been married for six years, and we have a beautiful baby girl. It is kind of fun to tell people "we met in a bowling alley."
My husband and I met in a bowling class at the Y. My roommate did not want to take the class by herself, so I agreed to take it with her. One day there was an empty lane next to ours, and a cute guy came and occupied it. I thought he was nice enough, and perfect for. . . my roommate. Later we found out that he lived in the same apartment complex as we did. We all became good friends. I asked him to Preference for my roommate because she was too shy. In fact, she was too shy to find out anything about him on her own. I was so determined to get them together, I started to hang out with him more so I could find out all the great stuff about him to tell her. I found that he had a lot of great qualities, a lot of the qualities I was looking for in a guy. I started to fall in love, but I had already promised my roommate to do all I could to help them get together. He had no idea how I felt about him and began to date my roommate. Their relationship did not last long, and soon we were together. We have been married for two and a half years and have a 19-month-old daughter. To this day I have not heard of anyone else besides my husband being successful at the "roommate switch."
The Magic Ward
—Miriam (Allred) Roberts, '79 - Frannie, Wyo.
In 1971 my father accepted a teaching position at Northern State College in Aberdeen, South Dakota. My parents' biggest concern about taking the job was us, their five teenaged children and four pre-teens. At that time there were no wards or stakes in either of the Dakotas except for a stake in Rapid City, South Dakota, clear across the state from our new home, and Mom and Dad worried about moving a family full of teenagers to an area where there were few latter-day saint youth for them to associate with and date. My folks approached the situation with faith, with commitment to teaching us gospel dating and marriage standards, and with a firm determination to send us all to BYU after high school graduation.
By spring term 1977 the first four of us children had attended BYU, and I began my junior year at the 'Y,' staying in Provo to work and attend school that summer. Three of my roommates from the previous semester and I decided to move to a new apartment. Unfortunately, they all went home for the summer before we found a mutually acceptable place, leaving to me the Herculean task of finding something to satisfy four different sets of apartment preferences. I finally discovered a basement apartment in a house a few blocks off campus. Besides its underground location, the apartment was less than luxury living: it housed six young women in only two bedrooms (one a very large one with four beds) and proffered only one bathroom (shower, no tub). In fact, when my roommates arrived that fall, none of them were very happy with my choice, but I was. The price was right, the choice felt correct, and I was tired of apartment hunting.
My selection made us members of the BYU 74th Ward and triggered what I consider a chain of miracles. First, my roommates finally forgave me for my choice. Second, within 15 months the first four of Mom and Dad's children had married students belonging to the 74th Ward: my younger sister married our Young Adults president; my older sister married our next-door neighbor and home teacher; my recently-returned missionary brother married one of our new roommates, and I (the Relief Society president) married the ward executive secretary.
And third, all four marriages took place within a four-month period—the first on August 17 in the Manti Temple, the next on August 26 in the Washington, D.C. Temple, the third on September 13 in the Idaho Falls Temple, and the fourth (mine) on November 24 in the Provo Temple.
In between weddings number three and four, our younger brother entered the MTC to begin his mission to Japan. The miracle here is that my parents survived those four months physically, emotionally, and financially!
Of my parents' nine children, eight of us married people we met while attending BYU, just as our parents had met. And as an interesting footnote, by July 2000 my parents will have eight grandchildren serving missions simultaneously, 22 years after the first wedding took place. The missionary force consists of two grandchildren from each of those first four marriages.
The whole story reminds me of the question allegedly asked of President Harold B. Lee by a BYU student: "President Lee, is it true that most marriages are made in heaven?"
Without hesitation President Lee responded, "Actually, I understand most of them are made right here at BYU."
Amen to that.
Marriott to Marriage
—Michelle (Stephen) Whitchurch, '93 - West Jordan, Utah
I saw the call to submit BYU love stories. . . Ours is probably very typical. My husband and I met in 1990 because we were in the same ward in Heritage Halls. We had a music class together, and he would occasionally walk me home since we were "going the same way." I remember talks about our families and little twinges of interest, but nothing really clicked until the next year when we returned to the ward. We both were there with our roommates a week early for school, due to work and other interests. My roommate and I decided one night in early September to go meet people in the ward. We started knocking on doors in ours and the boys' dorm. Soon we had a large group of new ward friends. The plan was set to camp out for football tickets early the next morning; however, soon a smaller group of four was formed to go to camp out at 11 that night.
Sparks definitely were in the air that night, and, well, love was born in the squishing of the lines and the touching of hands and spirits at 4 A.M. My husband and I were a "couple" within the day (we definitely "owed" M&Ms), were engaged by mid-November, and were married in May of 1992. We both graduated (within four years) with bachelor's degrees in 1993, and I went on to receive a master's degree in 1995. News of our first baby's imminent arrival came within the first semester of my master's program. Our first baby was born in 1994, when we lived in Wymount. Many happy memories come from our courtship, marriage, and beginning of our eternal family while we were students at BYU.
No Loopholes in THIS Knot
—Todd W. Beck, '86 - Tampa, Fla.
My first week of BYU's MBA program was a series of team-building exercises. This seemed wimpy to my law student roommates, whose first week was spent learning to be tough and competitive. So when one roommate asked me to substitute teach Sunday school that weekend, I jumped at the chance to publicly taunt him with the many anti-lawyer verses in Corinthians. I also realized it would give me an hour of face time to look witty in front of the girls of my new student ward.
Sunday came, and 100 people waited for my lesson, but both roommates suddenly decided to go to the other class. Scrambling, I told the group of my lesson plan and asked for other law students to volunteer themselves as targets for my jokes.
Later I learned there were a dozen in the room, but they all slid down in their seats until one brave—and gorgeous—girl raised her hand defiantly, encouraging me to hit her with my best shot. With her participation, the lesson went great.
First impressions are memorable. In the four years we've been married, Wendy has probably never forgotten how dorky and helpless I must have looked with my lesson starting to crumble. And I will never forget how impressed I was by a girl with a great sense of humor, confident and selfless enough to rescue a stranger from certain embarrassment.
It All Began At the "Y"
It all began at the "Y"
In the year of '54
When a smiling face lad
Stopped a lass at the door.
Now this lad was a friendly sort
With a grin from ear to ear;
And the lass, a bashful thing
With a heart full of foolish fear.
And, oh yes, that door—
'Twas to the recreation class
Where blossomed and bloomed
The romance of this lad and lass.
Now the courtship of these two
Was short but full of joy and fun,
For soon he popped the question
For her to be his "one and only one."
Then June came with summer vacation
And time for the two to part;
The lad and lass returned to their homes
Each with a lonely and heavy heart.
But the wedding date was set
And the summer was quick to pass,
For each had a lot to prepare
Before the lad returned for his lass.
With all the wedding plans complete
The day drew nearer and nearer,
And soon the lad arrived—
Their love was even dearer.
So with family and friends
And hearts running o'er,
They did vow in the Temple
To love and to honor evermore.
So, it all began at the "Y"
In the year of '54
When a smiling face lad
Stopped a lass at the door.
Red Rover, Red Rover
—Judy (Giberson) Hall, '79 - Syracuse, Utah
Here is our story: The summer before my freshman year at BYU in 1973, I had to endure all of the "B-Y-Woo" and "How fast are you going to get your MRS degree?" jokes from my small ward in Amarillo, Texas. Rarely had students gone to BYU from Amarillo, so they were enjoying their jokes. I was adamant about my desire to get an education and to graduate, not find a husband. I had to eat my words later, when it turned out that I met my husband-to-be on the first day we were on campus as freshmen.
The story went like this: I had been assigned to Felt Hall in Heritage Halls, which was then part of the BYU 3rd Branch. On the first Saturday the freshmen arrived, our branch gave us an opening social to welcome us to BYU. Our hall was invited as well as two floors of boys in Hinckley Hall that were also in our ward. Included in the group were two freshmen from another floor in Hinckley Hall who saw the sign and decided to crash the party. The activities turned out to include children's games (to put us freshmen in our place!). There on the lawns of Heritage Halls, we were playing "Mother May I?" "Green Light, Red Light," and other childhood games.
The last game of the evening was "Red Rover, Red Rover." As I took off running after my name was called, I noticed one of my brand-new roommates standing near the end of the line, so I decided to try to break through by her. I didn't break the line and so I took the hand of a young man that stood by my roommate. We introduced ourselves and then the game continued for a bit longer. Later that evening, we saw each other again and talked over the punch and cookies. It turned out that he and I both liked math and had been invited to join a special honors math club. In addition, he knew one of my new roommates from district seminary competitions in Davis County, Utah. As luck would have it, my roommate and I both shared the same name, "Judy."
That night, I wrote in my journal, "I met a boy from Syracuse named Gary Hall. He seemed nice but very quiet." Not exactly love at first sight! I didn't join the honors math club, and it turned out that Gary was one of the boys at the party who were not in our ward, so I didn't expect to ever see him again.
A few weeks later, he showed up at my apartment and asked to see Judy. I wasn't there, but my other roommate named Judy came to the door, so they began talking and became friends. Through her, he met all of my other roommates and became good friends with them as well. So he was a regular at our apartment, dating all of my roommates at least once and becoming close with one of them named Jody. All of them except for me! Although we never dated during our freshmen year, we did become friends. While Gary served a mission in Hong Kong, he wrote to our entire apartment, and because of my great interest in Hong Kong and China, I became a faithful letter writer to him. When he returned to BYU, I had left, so we continued our letter-writing relationship. A year after his return home, and after a short visit and many letters, we decided that our friendship was a good start for a marriage, and we were married three months later. Our first "real" date was a day after we got engaged. So four and a half years after our first day at BYU, we were married in the Provo Temple. I think our friends were all glad that we had finally figured out what they already believed—that we should be together. At our marriage, the sealer asked us how long we had known each other. When we replied "Four and a half years," he asked what had taken us so long. Two of my roommates from that first apartment who were in attendance burst out laughing—they knew the road that had taken us from "Red Rover, Red Rover" to the holy altar in the temple. We have now been married for over 22 years. It is so hard to imagine the joy that came from Gary crashing a party and us holding hands during "Red Rover, Red Rover" on that August night! (And I did graduate from BYU!)
Ricks Fix
—Cathy (Wrigley) Brooksby, '95 - Middleton, Idaho
You asked for letters about meeting your spouse at BYU. Well, I met my husband because we weren't at BYU. My husband attended BYU before his mission. When he returned they wouldn't take him back.
Therefore, he went to Ricks, where I was. We met in math class, married, and now have 3 wonderful boys. Thanks to BYU's turning him down, I met my husband. Thank you. (BYU did take him after he finished at Ricks.)
Romantic Comedy
—Ken Craig, '97 - Las Vegas, Nev.
January 1993: I was a part of the budding BYU campus comedy troupe, The Garrens. The next fall, Katie auditioned. I knew when I saw her that she would be a part of the group.
Three semesters, two girlfriends, and over 36 Garrens' performances later, I knew I wanted to marry her. August 17, 1995: we became Ken and Katie Craig. Recently we had our second baby, and we named him "Garren."
Strong Lips and Tender Hearts
—Col. Jack L. Tueller, '42 - Bountiful, Utah
As a sophomore at BYU in 1940, I was the trumpet soloist for the Cougar Concert Band. After a humbling experience playing a technical solo during the band's first coast-to-coast radio broadcast, I walked into the Cougar Band Room located in the lower campus area. There I noticed a lovely young lady with black eyes, black hair, and full lips. She asked me if I was the soloist at the assembly, and I said, "Yes!" I asked her who she was, and she told me her name. She said that our professor had given her a music scholarship for winning a state trumpet contest. She looked at me with what I thought was great admiration and said, "You sure look like you have a strong embouchure" (lip muscle). I shyly thanked her.
Several encounters later, when we had sufficiently gotten to know each other through our musical competitions for "first chair," I found myself saying with a boldness that even surprised me, "Remember how you remarked that I seemed to have a strong embouchure? Would you like to find out?" Imagine the result when two pairs of strong musician lips come together!
It was several years later, after a temple marriage, and several fighter plane missions in Europe during WWII, that I finally realized what happened during that first romantic encounter in the band room! The result has been 58 years of marriage, six fine children, 24 grandchildren, and six great-grandchildren!
Testing Center Pickup
—Renae Nixon Ellis, '99 - Hillsboro, Ore.
I was a brand new 18-year-old freshman living at Helaman Halls. It was three weeks into the fall semester when I made my first visit to the Heber J. Grant Building, otherwise known as the Testing Center. I was accompanied by my older sister, a sophomore, who helped calm my nerves. After receiving our tests, we scanned the many rows of desks looking for two seats side by side. Once found, we settled in and went to work.
After only a minute or two had passed, the guy to my right leaned over and asked, "Hey, what test are you taking?"
I hesitated a moment before answering, "Physical science."
"Boy, that's a tough one; I took it last semester," he replied. Then leaning even further into the aisle, he looked on my test and said, "Oh your name is Renae?"
I nodded, and not wishing to offend this stranger, I looked on his paper and said, "You must be Jeffrey."
"Nice to meet you, Renae," he responded. I turned my attention back to my test and tried to focus on the task at hand, but my thoughts kept turning to the guys and girls wearing blue vests. They combed the aisles monitoring the actions of the test takers. Thoughts of being accused of cheating on my first test at BYU went through my mind. Even if I was innocent, how would I ever explain that one to my dad back in Boston?
However, the stranger to my right, now known as Jeffrey, had no such concerns as he continued to lean over from time to time asking, "How's the test coming, are you doing alright?"
My replies were now reduced to a simple, "I'm fine," spoken out of the corner of my mouth, without so much as a turn of my head. All this done out of fear of drawing attention to this unusual (and risky) conversation. At the same time, I remember not being able to erase the smile from my face. It was almost as if someone was playing a prank on me, or perhaps, putting me on candid camera.
At one point, I turned to my sister on the left to see if she had been aware of the strange happenings, but she was deep into the exam. I attempted to bring her up to speed, "Pst, Raelene, this guy is talking to me!" But it was no use; I was not going to get a response out of her. So I continued working.
After a while Jeffrey finished his test and packed up his books. He was about to leave when he leaned over once again, this time actually kneeling on one knee in the aisle, and said, "Well Renae, I'm never going to see you again unless I get your number. Would you mind if I called you sometime?"
Well, giving him my number seemed harmless enough (remember, this was BYU), so I didn't hesitate too much before whispering to him the seven digit number. He jotted it down on a scrap piece of paper and was gone. I finished what was left of my test; then my sister and I headed out.
Jeff called about a week later and we had our first date. We were married the next August in the Salt Lake Temple. We both graduated from BYU in April of 1999 (Jeff in Electronics Engineering Technology and myself in Spanish). We are now living in Hillsboro, Oregon with our two children, Lisa (3) and Robert (1).
Unlike most students at BYU, one of our fondest memories of our college days is the infamous Testing Center. How true it is that the Lord works in mysterious ways!
Three Generations and Counting
—Dave R. Scott '59 - Sandy, Utah
Brigham Young University is the great matrimonially crossroads of the West where the youth of Zion come to study, pray, and be married.
My second year at BYU had been postponed by four years in the USAF and two more years on a mission. I returned as a 26-year-old actively searching for an LDS sweetheart of similar mindset to share life with. The year and summer school session had been educational and socially fun, but real romance eluded me. My junior year, September 1958, brought in new crowds onto BYU's campus. It was registration day in front of the Smith Field House that a good friend from my BYU Ninth Ward introduced me to two lovely incoming first year coeds from Holladay, Utah. They had just moved into the same Shipp Hall dorm apartment. Was this luck, destiny, a just reward for tithing, or the BYU house odds finally playing into my future?
The acquaintance continued within our common BYU Ninth Ward under the watchful, guiding eye of Bishop Ray Beckham. An October ward party/dance at Aspen Grove College Cabin led me to dancing with the one named Rayna. The dancing and conversation seemed mutually enjoyable. With Halloween upon us, I proposed a triple action date, which was agreed upon. October 31st our first date arrived. After part of a Mexican Symphony on campus, we drove in my ’39 Plymouth (a car one year older than Rayna) to Provo's State Mental Hospital where I was involved in lab work as part of an Abnormal Psychology class. The patients had planned a masquerade Halloween party. We entered with two paper sacks over our heads. Through our cutout eyeholes I could see she was a little bewildered but game. This was Rayna's first ever visit to a mental institution. What an experience introducing her around to many of the patients I'd become acquainted with! We then proceeded to mix by dancing with them. One huge guy danced with Rayna and wouldn't let go of her hand as he took her to the refreshment table. I came to the rescue by offering him a handshake, but he just gave me his left hand instead of releasing his right hand grip on Rayna's hand.
I could hardly blame him. It was kind of a "Beauty and the Beast" situation. This was probably the sweetest, most beautiful young woman he'd ever danced with and thought, as I was beginning to think, "Better never let her go." With a little more trickery mixed with psychology I got her free and off we went to the Provo Boat Harbor where some Eastern States missionary buddies were entertaining their dates in a spooky old house for Halloween.
We had a great time, so I decided to test her outdoorsy metal by suggesting we hike squaw peak in the morning—it being Saturday. She was up to it, and the very next morning we set out on a trail right up the steep western slope of Squaw Peak. From the top we shared lunch and a glorious view of Utah Valley, the lake, and our BYU campus which brought us together—me from Portland, Oregon and Rayna from Salt Lake City. We continued dating, courting and married the following June 27 of 1959 in the Salt Lake Temple. After 40 years of marriage we are still as crazy about each other as we were on our first Provo State Hospital date. Our kids are now married. They and their kids have all heard how Mom and Dad (Grandma and Grandpa) met. What a glorious campus!
Rayna's parents also met at BYU in 1937. Garnet was a young farm girl from Idaho, and Robert Cooper was a sheepherder from the Uinta Basin. They were married in the Salt Lake Temple. In 1989, our son, Robert, transferred from the University of Utah for one semester at BYU where he soon met Leslie, a girl from California. They later married in the Jordan River Temple. We are three generations and counting of B-Y-Woo courtships. Love that campus.
Thanks BYU from Dave and Rayna Scott of Sandy, Utah.
Weak Knees on the Balcony
—Alexis Becksted, '80 - Preston, Idaho
Every time I visit the Wilkinson Center ballroom, I look up at the balcony room and smile. I was on the ballroom dance team when I went to the Y. My partner and I needed a place to practice for our gold medal exam. The balcony room was free, but we couldn't figure out how to turn the lights on. So, we danced our routines in the dark—very romantic!
We never recovered. After a tour to Europe in the summer with the team, we couldn't bear to part ways and danced ourselves into a temple marriage.
My oldest son, who is on my high school ballroom dance team, will be going to BYU in the fall. I hope, someday, he suffers from such a fate as mine.
Yes, We Met at BYU
—Marva (Kimball) Pedersen, '60 - Willard, Utah
It was January 1954. I was a second-quarter freshman journalism student. My husband was a sort of sophomore/junior majoring in physics, only a few months discharged from the U.S. Marine Corps. His previous schooling had been at the University of Utah, but he had switched to BYU this year because of a distinct spiritual impression that BYU was the place where he would find his wife. A two-time draftee and a returned Danish missionary, he was 26 years old and needed a wife.
We both had decided to take "Introduction to Psychology" that quarter (my husband's last group filler), and we were both resisting taking it third hour from an older professor who had become somewhat of a legend in his own time—and not because of superior teaching. I finally settled on a first-hour psychology class from someone I never heard of, but at the last minute I changed my mind and registered for the third-hour course. I don't remember why; I only remember how good I felt about my decision.
My husband wrestled with his schedule for some time, trying to figure out how to work the psychology class in without taking it from the legendary professor. Nothing else seemed to fit, though, and he had almost decided to stay in school however much extra time it took rather than sign up for this particular professor when the following words came to his mind: "Sign up for third-hour psychology because it is there you will meet your wife."
He signed up for the course and showed up for class early the next day, so as to get a good look at each of the girls as they walked in the door. Class began and the right girl was not there. My husband went over and over in his mind his experience of the day before, wondering where he had gone wrong. Then I opened the door and walked in—a half-hour late. He said to himself, "There she is."
Now I was a half-hour late that day because I had had some very important things to tend to, and the strange thing was that the professor didn't seem to mind at all. He took an instant liking to me, and from that time forth I could do no wrong. My husband, on the other hand, became one of his chief objects of ridicule and soon declined any oral participation in the class whatever. I got an A; he got a C.
However, academics was not the reason my husband had taken the class, he reminded himself, and got right down to the business of romance. He began by walking with me after class each day. Then one night he offered me a ride home from the library in an open jeep, a 1943 combat model he had purchased on government surplus. It was snowing, but I climbed in. I was falling in love. We were engaged before the end of April, married the next September.
