The second time I visited The Music Box was two years later in the summer of 1967. The Fox, AKA Gary, (see posts below) and I took a road trip to surprise a girl that he had met the semester prior. I’m not sure how he and his lady friend met, but I suspect it was at one of Western’s weekly mixers. That’s how he rolled. Most of the time it was “dance and run”, but this time was different. They liked each other and continued to meet week after week. He took her out to eat a few times, perhaps a movie or two, off to the library to study and the next thing you know, The Fox was smitten by Suzy. (That’s not her name but it will be for the remainder of this tale.)
The thing is, I don’t remember her name. He does. He won’t forget it even after over fifty years have passed. I do remember that she was a physical education major and she lived in Siedschlag Hall. Siedschlag was an all female dorm back then and remains one today. The rumor was that all female physical education majors were housed there.
In any case, that’s where she lived.
Suzy was from Cleveland, Ohio. She stood about five foot, four inches, She had sandy colored hair that she wore in a pony-tail much of the time. I liked her. More importantly, The Fox liked her.
Late in the summer of “67” The Fox decided to drive to Cleveland to surprise Suzy. He knew that she had a summer job working at one of the many parks as a recreation director. He also knew her address as he had been writing to her throughout the summer.
There was no “google”, “Siri”, “Alexa”, or Garmin type navigating devices in 1967. Gary had paper maps, distributed for free by the Michigan Department of Transportation. And me.
Gary invited me to join him for the drive to Cleveland. I was his “wingman”. If Suzy had a friend, I’d be her date. If she didn’t, I’d just hang around and let Gary do his thing. My job was to provide assistance as best I could. We covered for each other like this all throughout college.
Gary picked me up from my parent’s house in Royal Oak in his white Corvair. We left on Friday morning and planned to arrive in Cleveland around lunch time. Gary knew the park was close to her house, and she went home each day for lunch. We would go to her house and if she wasn’t there, hopefully, someone would be there to direct us to the park.
The drive to Cleveland was pretty straight forward. We stopped and bought a street map to help find her house. Locals assisted whenever we lost our way.
After we found her house we introduced ourselves to her mother who explained that she had been home, but was headed back to work. Gary asked for directions to the park, and her mother provided them. Her mom’s final words were, “Is she expecting you?”
“No, it’s a surprise.”
It was a short drive to the park. It was only a few blocks away. It had lots of trees and reminded me a bit of the parks I had worked in Royal Oak. We parked the car and walked towards a group of people in the center of the park. We saw Suzy about the same time that she saw us. She didn’t appear to be as happy to see us as we were to see her. A single sentence said it all.
“What are you doing here?”
Gary’s reply was something like, “I came to surprise you.”
While he spoke, I stepped back. That’s another thing that a wingman is supposed to do. Step back if confrontation seems to be inevitable.
I walked away while they exchanged a few sentences. Gary turned around about a minute later and walked back to me.
“We’re outta here.”, he said. And then he said, “She’s engaged. The guy she’s engaged to works with her. That’s him over there.”
About two hundred yards away, a guy who looked more like a linebacker than a recreation director, put his arm around Suzy and they walked away. That’s the last time we saw either one.
We got back in the car for our drive back to Michigan. We talked about Suzy, the surprise, and the fact that she was engaged. That one minute exchange was full of surprises for everyone.
We had the whole week-end ahead of us with nothing to do. As we drove we decided to head north to Houghton Lake. We’d get a motel, spend a couple of nights, and head home on Sunday. We spoke off and on during the five hour ride. I told Gary about The Music Box.
“We can go tonight and tomorrow night. It’ll be like going to a mixer only in the woods.”
We found a room at a mom and pop motel for $12.00 a night. It was a short drive to The Music Box. We cleaned up, stopped for a burger, and prepared for our new adventure. I’d been a high school student during my prior trip. I was a college boy now and more experienced. I was the lead pilot and The Fox was my wingman.
The place hadn’t changed much. They had re-painted the benches that sat along each wall, and the music was a bit different, but that’s about it. The scene was much as I remembered.
Everyone collected in small groups. Most of the girls stayed in self-claimed pools, while most of the boys were on patrol. The Fox and I wandered in, around, and through the crowd sizing up the place.
It was the first such trip for The Fox, but it wasn’t my first rodeo. After about twenty minutes of walking around, we zeroed in on two girls, and asked them to dance. (We pre-selected our intended partner.) I don’t remember the girls or the dance. The only thing I remember was our initial introduction.
I said, “Hi, I’m Bruce Henderlight and this is my friend, Jimmy Smith.”