Chuck Nesmith - Valentine's Day, 2009
I was on leave from the Army, staying with my sister in Anderson, IN. I was just home from Vietnam where I had seen my fair share of warfare.
Like most combat vets, I was easily startled. And, like most men my age, I was interested in meeting women. So, I asked my sister where the good spots were for meeting girls.
"There are a few bars downtown and there's a little church college on the east side of town."
It was 10 in the morning. I thought I would try the college first and see if there were any possibilities there. If not, I would try the bars that night.
I parked my red 1968 Chevy Nova with its 350 horse, v-8 engine, on Third Street outside the Student Center of Anderson College, and walked down the steps to the Student Union located in the basement. There were ping-pong tables, TV's, a snack bar, and a four-lane bowling alley. I looked around. Most of the basement was empty. Not much was happening. But, students were bowling. So, I decided I would bowl.
There were four bowling lanes, three of which were already taken. I got the last of the four lanes just as two gorgeous women walked in. While they were checking out bowling shoes and balls, I was checking them out. One of the girls was 5' tall, with long, brown hair, a figure that had curves in all the right places, and a smile that somehow said she was the kind of woman I was looking for.
I walked over and invited them to bowl with me. There were no more lanes available, I explained, and since I was bowling alone it would be impolite of me to hog this lane when I knew they needed it.
The girls looked at each other and rolled their eyes. But, it was my lucky day. As it turned out, they had a bowling class and needed to get a few games in that day.
We bowled a couple of games together, but I didn't win either one. I couldn't concentrate with this knockout in such close proximity.
We exchanged names. Mine was Chuck, the girl with the assets was Barbie, and the other girl...well, I don't remember her name. It's been too long. I’m sure she was a very nice girl, but I just don’t remember.
"So, Barbie, would you get a hamburger with me?"
"Where?"
"We could go to Burger King or McDonalds..."
"I don't know you. I'm not going anywhere with you."
I heard her words, but somehow, they were only words. Her beautiful brown eyes were still soft, and her gentle smile said, that it just wouldn't be appropriate.
"Well, how about at the snack bar, around the corner?"
She giggled. "I think around the corner, at the snack bar would be safe."
So, I bought us hamburgers and sodas and we talked. She was from Pennsylvania, a music major, a college senior and graduating that year.
I was doing okay with her. She liked me, I knew she did - at least until I told her what I did.
This was at the height of the Vietnam War. The war was a political and social disaster and for some reason the service members were the ones to get the blame. And, here I was - a soldier on a college campus. In the environment of the day, students felt a moral responsibility to hate me.
She was embarrassed and disgusted by the war. I could see it in her eyes. What if I was one of those baby-killers everyone hated? What would people think of her if they knew she was dating a guy like me? No, it was time for her to go.
"Well, can I get your phone number? Maybe, we can get a coke again...sometime."
She looked at me and those eyes - her eyes were so soft. I knew her decision before she answered.
"Okay. My phone number. But, only for a coke."
"Okay. Only for a coke."
It was lunchtime. I drove to my sister's house. I was in love.
"I just met the girl I'm going to marry," I told her.
"You did? Does she know about this yet?"
"No, not yet."
I called Barbie that afternoon, then again that evening, and then the next morning. Then I called the florist and had flowers delivered to her dorm. Then I called her again.
No, she couldn't meet me. She had a test to study for.
So, I waited until the next day, bought flowers and a box of chocolates, and took them to her dorm.
"Interested in a coke," I asked. Again, I knew what her answer would be before she answered. Those beautiful, soft, brown eyes told me that she liked me.
"Yes, let's get a coke."
So, we walked up the street towards that snack bar. She clutched the flowers close to her. We didn't hold hands - not yet - but she smiled. I knew she liked me.
A passing car backfired with a loud crack and I instinctively dropped to the ground. My heart was racing. My mind was immediately back in the war. I looked up at Barbie. I wished she had not seen me do that. I wanted her to think I was a tough guy, one who could take care of her. Not a war-stressed wreck. I was embarrassed.
But, the tears in her eyes said that she understood. She took my hand and helped me up. Then we walked hand-in-hand down the steps to the snack bar. I knew we were going to be okay.
That was 1970. We've been married 38 years now and I love those soft, brown eyes and that sweet smile more now than I did then.