I met Sherry in the summer of 1961. She was a sweet, sensitive, well built and very attractive girl. Her father had died and her mother married a man that owned a tavern and a marina near our clubhouse off the Mississippi. We had every weekend together that summer. I was infatuated with her. The problem was she was a troubled girl in a situation with a step father she despised. She needed a way out. In the fall along came a country bumpkin with a new car and a place of his own. They were married in a short time and she soon realized she had made a mistake; I suppose she was less unhappy with him than she was before. The 4 Seasons group recorded the song "Sherry" in 1962 (their first big hit) and while I am a big fan of their work, every time I heard that song in 1962 it took me back to that last summer. Sherry was not the right girl for me. When I hear the song today, I sometimes wonder what kind of a tortured life she may have led.
I met Joyce at the end of May in 1963. She was and is a whole different ball game and she was and still is the right one. My love for her has never faltered. I look at her every day and and wonder how lucky can one man be?
There was something about Joyce that thrilled me right from the start. She was so different from any girl I ever met and the bonus was she was so beautiful she made my head spin. We dated through the summer; in July I had a dream we were standing at an altar getting married. In August I knew she was going away to college in September. I knew I could not stay home and be in the same place without her, so I timed my departure for the navy 2 days before she was scheduled to leave.
Joyce and I were married in January of 1964 and I am happy to say never for one day have I regretted it. We have had some situations with difficult times and we have had the best of times, but have always been in love through it all. There are far too many events to relate here (perhaps I'll write a novella about it someday). I would write it now, but Joyce says I should have some filters and that would limit the best parts. One of the many great times was in 1966. We headed west in the early spring to San Diego where I was to be stationed. That led to one of the best summers in our lives. California in the mid sixties was like a dream world, sun, fun, beaches, alcohol and just cruising the boulevards (before the alcohol).
This song, "December 1963 (Oh what a night) though it came out in 1975 has always reminded me of my initial meeting with Joyce, despite the fact it may seem unrelated.
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
Joyce and I were married in January of 1964 and I am happy to say never for one day have I regretted it. We have had some situations with difficult times and we have had the best of times, but have always been in love through it all. There are far too many events to relate here (perhaps I'll write a novella about it someday). I would write it now, but Joyce says I should have some filters and that would limit the best parts. One of the many great times was in 1966. We headed west in the early spring to San Diego where I was to be stationed. That led to one of the best summers in our lives. California in the mid sixties was like a dream world, sun, fun, beaches, alcohol and just cruising the boulevards (before the alcohol).
This song, "December 1963 (Oh what a night) though it came out in 1975 has always reminded me of my initial meeting with Joyce, despite the fact it may seem unrelated.
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
No comments:
Post a Comment