Terry's Turn: The wedding anniversary that almost never happened

It all started when I was a sophomore at North High in Omaha. It was the first few weeks of the new semester and I was dozing in General Science when this new girl came into class. Years later I found out she'd been kicked out of Spanish class. Even though I didn't yet know about the rebel side of this teenage goddess I was smitten at first sight. I checked with my buddy who knew her from another class and asked if she had a boyfriend. She did. It turned out to be a momentary setback.

My freshman year I suffered through the required gym class but as a sophomore I discovered I could substitute marching band for the dreaded gym and so I did. Not only did I not have to face the rigors of running or the embarrassment of being picked last for every game, I discovered the vision of loveliness from General Science was also in band. Perfect ... except for one minor detail. I was too shy to talk to girls. I'd have to work on that. And so I did.

I was a trumpet player in band or at least I pretended to be a trumpet player. My lack of musical talent would remain concealed for the time being.

We must have had tryouts to see who would be 1st trumpet, 2nd trumpet and so on and I ended up in the very last position in the trumpet section. But no matter because from where I was in that last chair, I had a unobstructed view of the clarinets where sat my new love muffin.

It was later in the semester I found out the boyfriend was no longer a problem, but I was soon to discover I wasn't the only one in band interested in this beautiful clarinet player. She was turning out to be a very popular young lady. A fellow member of the brass section seemed to also be eyeing my lovely maiden of the woodwinds. But even back then I was able to turn a negative into a positive. My competition for her affection would turn out to help instead of hinder me in my pursuit of this exquisite creature.

All I had to do was follow Dave, my competition, around and when he talked to Jean, my beloved, I would make sure I was there. It turned out to be a great plan. Well, almost great. The band played at all the football games and after we got back to school Dave would ask Jean if we could walk her home and stop on the way for a late night snack at the local burger joint. I would as planned be there and the three of us would stop for a hamburger and then Dave and I would walk the lovely Jean home.

All went well until the Military Ball which was a formal dance it seemed everyone went to. Almost everyone. How could I ask this girl to go this very important social event when I couldn't even ask her to go eat a greasy hamburger? Adding to my dilemma was the fact that I didn't have a car. I really didn't want to get on the bus with her in a formal and me in a tux. My brother-in-law volunteered to drive us but I had my imaginary reputation as a debonair playboy to think of. The result was she went to the dance with my rival David. I was devastated.

I finally got a car and the nerve to ask her out and over time won the fair heart of the lovely Jean. After high school I joined the Air Force and shipped out to the battle weary war zone of Southern California. I decided even though I didn't have two nickels to rub together I could no longer live without my beloved. I asked her to marry me and during a momentary lack of common sense she said yes.

I went home on leave to Omaha where we were to be married. The first thing to do of course was get the marriage license. We went to the courthouse and as I recall, her mother, my mother and sister went along too. We were filling out the application when disaster struck. Where it said birthplace I dutifully wrote Falls City, Nebraska. My usually demure future bride yelled, "FALLS CITY! You told me you were born in California!"

Then I remembered. At some point while we were dating she asked where I was born. I didn't want to tell the truth because I was trying to impress this sweet young thing so ... well ... I lied. "I was born in Sun Valley, California," I proudly said. How was I to know I'd marry her someday?

Somehow she calmed down, we got the license and got married. But even 53 years later she still remembers that incident. So my advice to young men is never lie to your girlfriend. Like me, you just might marry her someday and those innocent white lies you told while dating will come back to haunt you. Forever.

Terry Turner is a Prime writer who can be reached at tturner185@outlook.com