How About Me?

I met my wife, Ruth, in the fall of 1969.  We were both first year teachers at Plainwell Junior High in Plainwell, Michigan.  I didn’t like her when we first met.  I thought that she was too brash for a first year teacher.

There were five newbies at the junior high that year –  Ruth, Dave, Rick, Dorothy, and me.  Tony was new to the staff too but had taught there in the past.   Grandville was the new band instructor but had been the high school principal the year before.

Ruth walked around like she owned the place.  That was too much for me.  I found out a few days after our first meeting that she had graduated from Plainwell and had most of the staff as teachers herself just a few years prior.  My first cool impression of her began to thaw after this revelation.

Ruth and I went on our first official date on Valentines Day in 1970.  It was a staff party for the junior high and the beginning of our relationship.  We were both dating others and exclusivity was not in the cards for several months.  We saw more and more of each other but there were always others in the mix.  I believe her mix was larger than mine.  There was one girl other than Ruth that I dated the most but others dropped in from time to time.

Sometime in late 1970 or early 1971, Ruth started talking about marriage.  (At least that’s the way I remember it.)  I was not in that place and so the talk led nowhere.   I was narrowing my focus to her, but I wasn’t ready to “tie the knot”.

In the spring of 1971 we both bought new cars.  I traded my 1967 Mustang convertible for a 1971 Ford Torino.  (One of the biggest mistakes of my life.) Ruth traded her 1963 Volkswagen for a 1971 Ford Pinto.  While we both bought Ford products, we bought them from different dealers.  The new car purchases bought about a series of changes that altered both our lives forever.

Ruth bought her car from Mike who was interested in Ruth for more than just selling a car.   They started dating, we stopped, and they became engaged during that summer.

After returning to work in the fall of 1971, I stopped into Ruth’s room on Friday after school.   Several students from the prior school year had returned from high school to visit Ruth too.  The students, Ruth, and I shared a lot of stories.   Ready to move on for the weekend, I told Ruth that I planned to make a stop on the way home.  Ruth said that she might make the same stop.  We had both tired of the conversation with the students and this was a way to move on.  The stop was the Hi-Lo, a small neighborhood bar.  We had stopped on other Friday afternoons over the past couple of years but always with other teachers looking to wind down from the week’s work.  This was the first Friday of our third year of teaching and my final Friday as a single man.

TBC …