Clark's Hiding Place
In June of 1958 I departed the Far East following a five month assignment on Okinawa and a ten month assignment on the beautiful and smaller island of Miyako Jima. I was fulfilling a role as a member of the US Air Force and my new squadron was waiting at Tyndall Air Force Base in the Florida panhandle. Tyndall was situated a few miles east of Panama City. I was afforded forty-two days leave; this included several days for travel. These were forty-two days I was looking forward to. I was anxious to be home again.
Once back home I spent time with acquaintances I'd known through the years. Two weeks passed and I'd run out of things to do. I'd joined the Air Force only eighteen months earlier but there had definitely been many changes. Former classmates were either busy making a living or they were away attending college.
I felt stuck in neutral with everyone else in high gear. I packed up and headed for Tyndall even though I'd be checking in several days early. I'd grown accustomed to my role in the Air Force and I was pleased with the job I was doing. I always jumped at new challenges so the Air Force had definitely filled a void.
I arrived in Panama City on a hot day in July of 1958. As I stepped off the bus a blast of hot air confirmed I was there. I was amazed by the crowds of suntanned youngsters. They were jammed together on the streets like sardines. I had arrived a few days early so I wasn't in any hurry. I was interested in what a beachtown like Panama City might be like.
Many of the girls were wearing bathing suits that are normally worn at the beach. This was something I'd never seen before. There seemed to be something special going on in town and I was determined to find out what it was. I'd never seen this many people having so much fun. I checked in at a downtown hotel and stayed overnight.
I was up bright and early the next morning. Following a few hours of pounding the hot pavement and mingling with the crowd I decided to pack up and leave. The beach town utopia I'd anticipated had apparently vanished or it was never there in the first place. I boarded a local transit bus and headed down US 98 toward Tyndall AFB.
I arrived at Tyndall and signed in at my new squadron. I had no idea what my new assignment might entail but I was eager to find out. Florida was certainly everything I'd expected. It was hot and humid and just like advertised. The Far East had been difficult when it comes to tropical climates, so I figured I could handle anything Florida had to offer. And I wasn't the only one signing in that afternoon. There were other airmen arriving from various spots on the globe. One in particular was an airman named Danny.
Danny was from Indiana. He had served in this squadron up until only one year earlier when he was reassigned. Following that one-year tour the Air Force sent Danny right back to Tyndall. He knew his way around Panama City and especially the resort areas. One of these resorts was Long Beach. Long Beach was located a few miles to the west of Panama City. Danny's car was a 1956 black and white Ford Crown Victoria and he kept it looking like new. It may have been two years old but it was as sharp as anything around.
Danny explained how Long Beach had become the most popular spot in the area. And on an evening in July Danny asked if I'd like to see it. I had nothing else to do so I was more than willing. The only place I'd seen to this point was downtown Panama City. I knew resorts were scattered about but had no idea what they offered other than sun and sand. I was anxious to take a look.
We jumped in Danny's car and headed down the highway. As we left the base then entered the old iron bridge Danny switched the radio on. The music from the radio epitomized the evening: "Just A Dream" by Jimmy Clanton. Thirty minutes later we crossed Hathaway Bridge and entered the resort area.
I spotted a water tower with 'Long Beach' painted across the tank in bold black lettering. On our left was the building known as the Casino. We parked in front of the building and walked inside. There were arcade attractions and souvenir counters galore. Everything a souvenir hunter might look for. An aroma of hot popcorn filled the room.
As we exited the rear entrance a ferris wheel was in motion. Riders of all ages were twisting and turning to it's cadence of musical standards. A sidewalk ran along one side of the ferris wheel and continued toward the beach. As we continued down the sidewalk Danny gave me a nudge. He said we were nearing the most popular spot on the beach. A jukebox was jumping and so were the crowds. Young people of all ages were everywhere; we were standing at the east entrance to the Hangout.
The Hangout was an open dance pavilion. I remember the dance floor as concrete with a very smooth surface. It's my understanding the floor was once hardwood but I don't recall if it ever was. The Hangout was the place for dancing and a great place for meeting people. Most vacationers were from the southeastern states. A majority were from all areas of Alabama and Georgia.
There were groups of attractive girls inside the Hangout and as far as the eye could see. A jukebox sat to one side of the pavilion near the sidewalk spanning the beach. A number of white wooden benches were scattered about. The pavilion was packed with dancers of all ages. The music could be heard the length of the resort. The Hangout was the place to be and exactly as Danny had described. The music was loud and the pavilion called the Hangout was really alive.
Dancers were dancing to Buddy Holly's music and I must have heard "Think It Over" at least twenty or thirty times that evening. Buddy Holly and Long Beach seemed synonymous. The crowds of young people danced for hours on end. I was amazed by the Hangout and the role it played at Long Beach. It was a fabulous place for meeting someone. I felt fortunate having drawn an assignment like Tyndall; especially considering it's proximity to Long Beach. I'd never seen so many attractive girls. They were all in one place and all at the same time. If there were ever a 'Heaven on Earth' then this had to be it.
The next evening we were back at Long Beach. This evening would evolve to a once-in-a-lifetime experience. An evening that most only dream about. As we eased along the highway Danny spotted three friends from our squadron. Each with a girl by their side and standing near the highway. Danny pulled off the road to say hello.
All three girls were attractive but one in particular caught my eye. I was captivated by her grin. As we were talking she leaned inside a window and began asking where we were from. I'd never seen anyone so full of life. She abounded with an aura of enchantment. I was overwhelmed by her good looks and her energy, and especially by her grin. She was everything anyone could ever hope for. I was hooked the moment I saw her.
The next thing that came to mind, "would I ever see her again"? There were hundreds of young men at Long Beach so I realized I'd have plenty of competition. I wondered if I'd be able to get her attention; wondered if I had what that required. I wanted to see her again and knew I'd never forgive myself if I didn't at least try. Besides, girls this attractive could certainly pick and choose.
The following evening proved more of the same and we headed right back to Long Beach. I wanted to see if I could find the girl from the evening before; the beautiful girl who'd caught my eye. We parked at the Casino and walked inside. I was ready to start looking so I told Danny I'd be waiting outside the rear entrance. I began my walk down toward the ferris wheel.
In only a few minutes I spotted her. She was perched atop a bench near the ferris wheel. She was engaged in conversation with a young man. My heart sank then all of a sudden she looked up. Our eyes met. She sat there and kept on talking. I had little choice but to continue down the sidewalk. I hoped what I saw in her eyes was genuine.
Our eyes definitely clicked and there was no doubt about that. I continued walking but never looked back. I didn't want to appear overly anxious and even though I was. I'd suffered disappointments in earlier relationships and I'd never forget the feeling. I didn't want to go through anything like that again.
And I couldn't understand why she continued talking with the young man with dark hair. I couldn't wait for their conversation to end. And I'd never know for sure because I was walking in the opposite direction. I realized they could walk off into the night and I'd never be the wiser. But if what I saw really meant anything, then she'd either wave or catch up with me later. She hadn't waved so that left one option. If neither were to occur I knew I'd be very disappointed. All I could do was hope for the best.
As I reached the sidewalk spanning the beach I began second-guessing myself. I wondered if I made a mistake by not walking up and butting in. At least while I had the opportunity. I would at least know where I stood. As I walked along with my back to the Hangout I heard sounds of someone running. The footsteps gradually became louder so I stopped and turned around. This was the moment she ran up to me. She was huffing and puffing and completely out of breath.
I asked her name. "It's Peggy" she replied. I finally had her all to myself; I couldn't believe it. I was flattered by her sprint down the sidewalk. Not one girl had ever run to catch up with me. This is a moment in my life I shall never forget. It confirmed a love that will survive eternity.
We spent the rest of the evening together. We walked along the beach and talked about everything under the sun. How I'd been raised in the west and the places I'd been since joining the Air Force. This was the small talk that comes when meeting someone new, yet sensing it's anything but casual.
Peggy was a high school graduate from the state of Georgia. She'd been a member of the women's varsity basketball team. Not only was Peggy beautiful, she was also a competitor. She was selected for the "All County - First Team" her senior year. There was an article to this effect in the local newspaper. Peggy's competitive nature would play a role in years to come. She would never accept defeat and gave everything she had to win.
And vacation acquaintances often vary. Most are common to meeting someone, followed by casual strolls along the beach. Then once vacation's over it's back to the routine. Our meeting at Long Beach was entirely different. It was certainly more than that. From the outset we knew there was something unique between us. Whatever that magic, it would endure the test of time.
The very next evening Danny and I were right back at Long Beach. As if an intangible magnet was pulling us along. As I arrived at the Hangout my eyes began the usual search. I was searching for Peggy and I was also growing impatient. Then within minutes I finally spotted her. It became obvious I wasn't the only one searching. We were surprised we'd found each other so soon. We walked and talked and spent another wonderful evening. We weren't entirely alone, for two of my friends and two of Peggy's friends joined us. We were now a party of six, but we managed to spend time alone whenever we felt like it.
Peggy's final evening at Long Beach was the usual scenario. We walked the beach like before and sat on benches and pondered our future. As if every moment was pre-planned; as if it were meant to be. I'd never felt like this before. Whatever we felt for each other was anything but casual. It was a particular bond and a lasting bond. I feel sure we both realized the significance and at the very same moment.
As we said our goodbyes that final evening she invited me to visit her in Georgia. She explained how we could spend an enjoyable weekend together. I told her I'd do everything I could to make it happen. We walked around for awhile then went our separate ways.
A few days later we set a date for our reunion in Georgia. The date selected was only a few days away and I was already very anxious. By her response over the telephone it was obvious she was just as anxious. The only left to do was figure out how I'd get there. I didn't have a car so my options were either to hitch-hike or buy a bus ticket.
In the meantime Danny wanted to take a trip to Biloxi. This would take place over the upcoming weekend. He asked if anyone in our room wanted to go along. I wanted to go but struggled with my decision. The technical school I attended was located in Biloxi so I pondered the possibility of visiting that city again.
But there was a problem and it was truly a huge problem. My date with Peggy and the trip to Biloxi were for the very same weekend. I couldn't be in two places at once. This meant I'd have a decision to make. I'd have to make a choice and a tough one at that. Only a few weeks earlier I'd met the most wonderful girl in the world. If I chose the trip to Biloxi, then a wonderful romance might have a disastrous conclusion. And I wasn't sure I wanted to risk that.
My mind raced back to a similar situation. It was a time I'd fallen for someone and considered things mutual. It was my understanding my girl friend had cared, yet in the long run was little more than sweet talk. At any rate, I'd become more cautious than ever before. I was determined I'd never make that mistake again. From that day forward I'd be taking sweet talk with a grain of salt. Then again, my relationship with Peggy had been totally different. There was something special there and it had made it's impression.
The choice I made that day was Biloxi yet I'll never understand why. It bothers me as much today as it ever has. Peggy always insisted I forget that day; to let bygones be bygones. I've tried to do as she suggested but I think I'll always feel bad about it. It had everything to do with caring for someone, then losing that someone. Besides, I considered myself an authority on the subject. I know this played a role in my decision and even though feeling uneasy about things. I chose to take that risk; I took that gamble. I hoped Peggy would allow me to explain.
As we rode along I knew I'd made the wrong decision. And the farther we drove the more agonyzing. Peggy meant more to me than anything in the world. But it was too late to change my mind. I felt even worse since I hadn't told Peggy beforehand. I wondered if she'd ever speak to me again. Buddy Holly's "Think It Over" certainly came to mind; it certainly seemed to fit. The trip to Biloxi wasn't anything special. By the time we returned, I assumed Peggy had forgotten everything she ever knew about me. I wanted to call her and explain but assumed she'd probably hang up.
August had come and gone and it was now mid-September. Danny was ready to take another trip. We were facing a boring weekend. Barracks can be boring and especially on weekends and holidays. As I sat on my bunk listening to Danny, an opportunity to see Peggy came to mind. I suggested a trip to Atlanta. I explained how the trip might afford a weekend with Peggy. Besides, I owed Peggy an apology. I hoped I could find her; hoped she would let me explain.
Peggy lived a few miles northwest of Atlanta. A drive to Atlanta would be more than 300 miles. I wasn't sure if Danny wanted to drive that far. I realized the odds for finding Peggy were shaky at best. But I wanted to go anyway. The final decision rested with Danny. It was Danny's car and he handled the driving.
When Danny agreed on the drive to Atlanta, I was overjoyed. It was like Christmas morning albeit a few months early. He told me the distance wasn't a problem but the cost of gas was. He said if everyone helped pay for gas, then the destination wasn't a factor. A good friend in the barracks named Eddie decided to tag along, so there were three of us in all.
When Friday evening rolled around we loaded up the car and headed for Georgia. I knew it was proper to call Peggy beforehand but I chose not to. And there was a reason. I preferred speaking with her in person. This was taking a chance but it's simply too easy to hang up a telephone. I was afraid she might hang up without allowing me to explain.
It was a chilly morning when we drove through Atlanta. We followed our road map and continued along the route toward her hometown. We approached a junction and followed the signs. We took a right and crossed two large sections of railroad tracks. A sign indicated we were five miles from our destination.
We were ready for a break so Danny pulled off the road and parked at a small restaurant. As we sipped coffee and Danny discussed the trip, the only thing on my mind was Peggy. If we were lucky enough to find her, I'd be the happiest guy on the planet. I had no idea how things might turn out; like tossing a coin in the air.
As we entered the city limits we approached a deadend. We were at an intersection and faced with two options. Either the road to the left or the road to the right. Since the main part of town sat to our left we made a left turn. Since we'd finally found her hometown the only thing left to go on was her last name. We hoped to find someone familiar with the family; someone who could point us in the right direction. There was very little traffic that morning and barely anyone around.
We continued through town. As we popped out at the other end of town we were staring at another railroad crossing. A man dressed in overalls was standing near the tracks. He must have been waiting for a ride. He was clutching a small paper bag in one hand. I stuck my head out the window, then asked if he knew the family we were looking for.
He said the only family he knew by that name lived back through town and along a highway leading to the city of Marietta. That we needed to turn around and drive back through town; where the road forks we should take a left and drive across a bridge. That the family lived on the left side of the highway and not too far below the bridge. This was the only family he knew of by that last name.
We took the road to the left and crossed the bridge. Farther down the highway and on the left side of the highway sat a large white house. We figured this had to be the place. As we slowed down a man dressed in overalls was standing on the other side of the highway. He wore a hat and was holding a lunch pail in one hand. I rolled down a window and asked if he knew the family we were looking for. He grinned from ear to ear when he replied, "That's me"!!
I explained who I was and how I met his daughter at Long Beach. He said she had mentioned my name a few times and had explained everything. He told us to pull in the driveway around to the rear. That I should knock on the door and ask for Peggy. We did as he said but stopped and parked at the right side of the driveway.
The house and property were larger than what I was accustomed to. As I stepped from the car I took a deep breath. I wasn't sure how Peggy would react. I wasn't sure she'd even acknowledge my presence. I wouldn't have blamed her if she'd ignored me and remained inside. I realized the way I handled things a few weeks earlier was completely unheard of. All I hoped for was a chance to explain. All I needed was five minutes. I happened to look up just as Peggy and a friend came walking down the driveway. Their arms were folded and they definitely weren't smiling. Folded arms don't generally go with warm welcomes. The girl walking with Peggy was also at Long Beach. Their demeanor made me wonder if they already knew we were coming.
They were dressed in warm sweaters and slacks. It was a chilly morning for the month of September. And this explained their folded arms. Peggy looked great and she certainly knew how to dress. She always looked great in red or black. And this was one of those times. Peggy was especially beautiful that morning and I'll never forget it. What I'd initially feared never took place. It was a wonderful weekend. All was not lost.
Peggy explained how disappointed she was. She explained her week of anticipation that had ended in frustration. She'd cleaned house for days; she wanted everything to look just right. I was the one who'd ruined everything yet she shrugged it off as if nothing had happened.
Peggy was fun to be around. She was happy as they come and always full of energy. She learned how to drive on her father's small tractor. She sharpened her skills behind the wheel of her brother's 1940 Ford.
She always seemed to have a heavy foot. This was the foot for the accelerator pedal. She was anything but careless and never took chances. She adhered to speed limit signs but was constantly seeking a shorter route. Always in control; in a hurry to get things done.
A two-lane blacktop runs through this community. I drive this highway at least once everyday. On those weekends in 1958 Peggy drove her father's 1953 Chevrolet. She drove this same two-lane blacktop and usually when headed for a shopping center. At a point along this highway sits a narrow bridge. It's the very same bridge as in 1958 although it's been widened. In 1958, the only landmarks along this blacktop were occasional farmhouses and miles and miles of kudzu. Nowadays whenever crossing that bridge I'm swept back to 1958; the sound of shock absorbers taking a beating as we flew across.
Peggy loved to go shopping. There were two shopping centers in the county in 1958. The trips to these shopping centers could be fun, while other times a little scary. It had nothing to do with her driving skills. It was based on what I was accustomed to. I'd been raised where rolling hills and curves can look safe while in reality they're not. A deer, a cow, or another animal could be waiting just over the hill. Peggy knew these roads like the back of her hand. There was no need to worry.
Our first weekend together in Georgia was a busy one. We made stops at drive-ins for burgers, drive-ins for movies, and also those trips for shopping. The shopping center Peggy preferred claimed to be the largest shopping center in the south. They boasted enough parking for thousands of cars. These shopping centers were nicer than anything I'd ever seen. This made it obvious why she enjoyed shopping as much as she did. I've never enjoyed shopping that much but always enjoyed tagging along. Being with Peggy was all I cared about.
Peggy dressed in attractive clothing. Each item of clothing had to be what was proper for her in particular and not only based on it's being in-style. She shopped for popular items and reveled when spotting styles that had just come out. Her selections were based on age and propriety. She was a meticulous shopper. As if there were an art to shopping.
Everything she wore had to look exactly right. Anything Peggy wore always did. She was very particular and took shopping very serious. She always chose a pleasing cologne that affirmed she was squeaky clean; nothing considered loud but especially subtle. She seemed to have a knack for that special touch; a touch that for me was always elusive. I was never able to put a finger on it. There was something unique about the way she chose particular items as well as to why she chose them. Whatever that elusive touch she always looked fresh, clean, and beautiful. She was absolutely amazing.
Over the waning hours of our weekend we sat in her father's Chevy. We talked about what lie ahead. We pondered our future. At a point during our conversation Peggy threw me a curve. She looked me in the eye and asked a question. She asked if I minded her dating other men.
My heart sunk to rock bottom. This caught me totally by surprise. I wanted to say something but I couldn't get started. I actually wanted to take a deep breath and scream, "What? Yes!! I do mind". I didn't say a word. Besides, her question sounded all too familiar. A daunting phrase came to mind: "I think this is where I came in".
I had no choice but to accept the implication. I figured I'd lost once again. I could only assume she'd found someone else. I sat there anticipating the bad news. I finally accepted the obvious and replied, "No, I don't care if you date someone else". I pretended to shrug it off. Peggy just sat there and didn't say a word.
In a few seconds she began to explain. She told me she didn't really care about dating anyone else. She said she needed to know how I felt about her; that she was only testing me. I told her how important she was and how much I cared for her. I told her I'd never be happy with anyone else. I could've proposed on the spot without any problem. That's how much she meant to me.
A few weeks later we were together again at Long Beach. Peggy talked her sister and husband into taking a trip to Long Beach. She wanted to be together again as bad as I did. Following her return to Georgia I made one trip after another and at every opportunity. The distance involved wasn't that important. Not as long as we could be together. Once Sunday rolled around I was on my way back to Tyndall.
I traveled either by bus or by hitch-hiking. Hitch-hiking in uniform was the cheapest way to go. Even though trips to her home were tiring they were always worth it. On one of those Saturdays we chose a song and called it our own: "One Night With You" by Elvis Presley. It proved an epitome of our weekends together.
Each October personnel at Tyndall were restricted to base. The Air Force's top fighter squadrons gathered at Tyndall every October and were engaged in competition. The exercises took place over a specified area over the Gulf of Mexico. This meant I couldn't see Peggy for a solid month. It was tough for both of us. We made up for the time we'd missed as soon as November rolled around.
On Christmas Eve of 1958 we decided on a movie at a drive-in. As the movie began we settled in. After a few minutes I reached inside a pocket and opened a small box revealing an engagement ring. I held it out to Peggy and asked if she'd marry me. Her reply was "Yes". This was the happiest day of my life.
We didn't have a car and an airman from my squadron wanted to sell his 1951 Mercury for $200. We decided to buy it. And there were several problems with the Mercury. One of these problems was the front seat. It was a bench seat and it was impossible to move it forward. The seat adjustments were frozen in-place. I had a difficult time reaching the pedals.
The fuel pump would vapor-lock at times so this created an awkward situation. Whenever the fuel pump over-heated it would usually vapor-lock. This stopped the supply of gas to the carburetor. The motor simply stopped running. We kept a quart bottle of water in the car and I poured it over the pump whenever it vapor-locked. Once the pump cooled off we were on our way again.
On the day of our wedding the Mercury broke down in Columbus, Georgia. We were halfway between the base and Peggy's home. As a consequence I arrived three hours late. Yes, I was three hours late for my own wedding. Peggy probably thought I'd changed my mind.
Several months later while enroute for a visit with Peggy's parents I dimmed the headlights for an oncoming car. This happened twice during the same trip. Not only did the headlights dim, they went out and stayed out. I was afraid I'd never get them back on. After stomping the switch a few times they were back on.
We were married in Dallas, Georgia on January 31, 1959. Our family soon grew to three. This was the day our daughter Teri was born. Teri was born at the Tyndall Hospital in the Fall of 1959. Six years later our family became four. This was the day our son Chip was born. Chip was born in Atlanta in the Spring of 1965.
We've always felt proud of their achievements. If parental credit is due it belongs to Peggy. Peggy set the example and our children followed. Teri served in a variety of functions within the insurance industry and she continues today. Teri and her family traveled to Long Beach on many occasions albeit when their children were much younger. Chip earned a degree in finance at Georgia Tech and graduated with high honors. Chip is currently a senior vice-president with a local bank.
I was discharged from the Air Force in December of 1960. We moved to Georgia and began raising our family. We'd traded in the Mercury several months earlier and now drove a 1954 Ford. I still consider this Ford the best car we've ever owned. I'm not sure Peggy ever agreed.
Peggy loved and respected her parents. And especially her father who was the hardest worker I've ever come to know. Her father hoped for a home of their own someday and he began that task during the late-1940s.
The construction of their home was accomplished piecemeal and always took place after work or on weekends and holidays. He was faithful when it came to the day set aside for rest; he always rested on Sundays. And he most certainly needed it.
During her early-teens Peggy followed her father around and helped in every way possible. And I know how important this was for Peggy because she reminisced about those times and on many occasions.
Her father accepted whatever the challenge, and in hopes of providing the things his family needed. If he hadn't the skill or the knowledge he wasted little time in learning those skills. In my heart I know this is what made Peggy who she was; what made her so determined and resilient.
Peggy was the ultimate in confidence building. She knew accomplishments come to those determined enough to make things happen. And this set the agenda that would ultimately evolve once we purchased our first home. The purchase of this home came in 1965. Prior to that day I had no idea what I was actually capable of when it came to maintaining a home.
The underneath sections of the eaves were plywood as they should be but for some strange reason the builders had installed interior grade rather than exterior. It wasn't long before these eaves began to buckle and separate due to the high humidity common to the south.
As we discussed what needed to be done Peggy insisted time and again how I would be able to remove the damaged plywood then replace it with the proper grade. We discussed this several times and I argued how I hardly possessed the skills.
As I've mentioned, Peggy was the ultimate when it came to building confidence. Within a few days I was atop the ladder and was hard at work ripping out the damaged eaves. Little did I know this was only the beginning.
Over the years I began improving in a variety of skills. And skills I'd never dreamed of achieving. Then things seemed to really take off the day I visited a public library book sale. A few minutes after walking inside I noticed a book on one of the tables with the following title: Basic Electrical Wiring.
This book had once been a textbook but had become very outdated. The basics of electrical wiring hadn't changed all that much but the hardware of the day certainly had. The price tag on this book was fifty cents. I would've felt like a fool had I passed it up. I bought the book on the spot; I still have it.
Since Peggy's approach was confidence personified I considered her an authority on the subject. And this character trait remains so important today and no matter the years that have passed. Were it not for Peggy's insistence I could achieve what I'd never dreamed possible we'd have spent thousands of dollars for projects we ultimately handled ourselves. This proved a lot cheaper in the long run and was a lot more fun.
Peggy was employed by a prominent insurance company. This was the same insurance company our daughter Teri worked for. Peggy's years with the company were the epitome of many long hours and many long days. Peggy retired in September of 2001; she was a loyal and dedicated employee. She approached work in the manner she approached life, she gave everything she had. The tougher things got then the stronger Peggy was. An aspect of character that seemed to come natural.
If there was a job to be done Peggy could do it. If she didn't know how she would learn how. Had she faced the odds of Amelia Earhart she would've found Howland Island. You can bet on it. She'd be standing there with that wonderful grin. And that's when she'd ask, "What's everybody worried about"?
Whenever we purchased equipment for the outdoors we'd do the unpacking in the driveway. The first thing I'd be searching for was the owner's manual. Once I found it I'd walk back inside and flip through it from cover to cover. In only minutes I'd hear a motor start up. I'd walk back outside and see Peggy hard at work. If the item we bought ran on gasoline Peggy didn't need a manual.
Her goals in life were to be successful; in everything she participated in. And she always was. The catalyst has always been her courage. It carried her through life. She was never careless but she was always fearless. Our daughter Teri puts it this way: "Mom was as tough as an iron skillet". And she was.
Peggy's credo in life: "You can do it". And Peggy always could; she always did; she always has. Peggy and courage are synonymous. Peggy never found time to doubt; she preferred moving mountains. She never gave up on anything. She never gave up on anyone.
Peggy was the strength in our family; she was the cornerstone. And since I'm the man in the family this is often difficult to admit. Yet the older I got the easier it was. I told her how I felt about her strength and about how important she was to our family. I mentioned this a number of times throughout those final months.
Peggy accepted compliments with a grain of salt. It was her nature; she always shrugged them off. She never considered herself anyone special. Even though we all agreed just how special she was. Any strengths I might have were never inherited. They came from Peggy and by example. A popular lyric asks: "Did you ever know you are my hero"? Peggy will always be my hero.
I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma in June of 2003. Over the first week following diagnosis I remained in the hospital undergoing a variety of tests. Peggy was constantly by my side. The first two nights she pulled two chairs together and slept in my room.
My chemotherapy treatments began in August. Peggy walked with me every step of the way. She was always seated next to me through six months of chemotherapy. She watched over me with absolute care. I currently remain cancer-free. Peggy played a major role in all of this.
Every marriage has it's good times and hard times and for a variety of reasons. Our family was our first priority; we handled everything else as best we knew how. Peggy enjoyed birthdays and especially holidays. She thrived on opportunities for family get-togethers. Thanksgiving was Peggy's favorite; she loved the planning and preparations. It was one of those times when our entire family got together.
Our last Thanksgiving together was in 2004. When Thanksgiving of 2005 drew near Peggy prepared the usual grocery list. Thanksgiving grocery lists were always very lengthy. I should know, I was the one who bought groceries. The Thanksgiving she anticipated would never take place. On Thanksgiving Day of 2005 she was in the hospital. She would never come home again.
I lost the love of my life to cancer November 28, 2005. Only a few days following Thanksgiving, the holiday she loved so much. Our marriage spanned forty-six years. Wonderful years with a beloved wife and mother. She suffered like most yet never complained.
On the day of her services I came to realize this was Peggy's first loss; her first confrontation with defeat. Yet in hindsight, considering her competitive nature this was Peggy as she'd always been; that inherent courage with a will to overcome.
Her final two months were crushed ice by mouth and everything else by tube. One tube for canned nourishment and another tube for chemotherapy. Both nothing more than exercises in futility. It was too little too late. She recognized the odds and accepted them. She knew the score. Our marriage will endure eternity. There will never be anyone like Peggy. The words from our son Chip go like this: "She knew how bad it was and she faced it all with courage and not an ounce of hesitation".
There will never be another Long Beach; at least not the Long Beach Peggy and I knew. It was one-in-a-million. It was the spot where we found each other. These are times gone forever. If only we could do it over again. Wouldn't that be great?
On that evening in July a beautiful girl ran up to me. God looked down and smiled; I am sure of it. Peggy is the love of my life and this will never change. I love her more than life; more than words might ever say. She loved life, she loved her family, and especially the newest member, a five month-old granddaughter she called "Sweet Pea".
Our final visit to Long Beach was in February of 2003. The beaches haven't moved but the magic is gone. What once was the Hangout is now covered in condos. Their shadows defy the sun we once chased. Panama City's downtown area resembled a ghost town.
On Peggy's last birthday I handed her a card. The verse inside capturing everything I ever felt about her. I couldn't wait for her to read it: "You're all I ever wanted; you're all I'll ever need". Neither of us knowing what lie ahead.
In July of 1958 I reported at Tyndall a number of days early. Had I used all of those allotted days I wouldn't have been in Florida when Peggy arrived. I wouldn't have met her at all. I would like to mention two events and both from the year 1952. They are relevant to the following three paragraphs.
During the late-40s and throughout the 1950s our family owned a business in my hometown. Each day prior to the lunch hour my father sent me up the street to a local grocery store. One day in May of 1952 while waiting at that grocery counter I happened to notice the date on the receipt book. The receipt book was lying on the counter. I felt prompted to remember the date; that I should never forget it. I was fifteen years of age.
Years later and while walking inside our garage Peggy commented on something she's always been proud of. It was something she'd written in concrete at the age of twelve. It was the day her father poured the concrete for the garage and before the concrete had cured. She picked up a stick and wrote the date. That date she wrote was May 22, 1952. Just below the date she wrote her father's name. Just below his name she added her own.
The month I felt prompted to remember was May and the year was 1952. Peggy had written a date in concrete. The date she wrote was May 22, 1952. I recently noticed a significance in my current street address. These four house numbers are also the numbers contained in the year '1952'. Significance or coincidence? I suppose I'll always wonder. When I sold our home and property I had that section of concrete with the date from 1952 removed. It currently rests in my garage. I'll never part with it. Khufu has the pyramid; I have a date written in concrete.
A few years ago I began calling Peggy "my Panama City girl". I'm not sure why but it gave me a good feeling inside. I know Peggy enjoyed hearing it. She turned and smiled whenever I mentioned it. And I'll always be reminding her with each visit to her gravesite.
I took a few days off during the summer of 1972 and we loaded up the kids and headed for Long Beach. On our final day at Long Beach we took a few minutes to look over the area where we'd met in 1958. The stretch of the beach where the sidewalk had been resembled a wasteland; nothing more than a pile of rubble. The pieces of broken concrete were scattered everywhere.
We were near the spot where Peggy ran after and caught me; I decided to take one of the smaller pieces back home. I always wondered if I had the piece where we stood that evening. Besides, the events of that evening remain my fondest memory of Long Beach.
As we returned home that evening I sat the broken piece of concrete on our carport. I sat it back in one corner so it wouldn't be in the way. We sold that home in 1980 and I forgot to grab it the day we moved. Sitting it back in a corner may have been the reason I missed it. I'd be willing to pay to have it back. I have no idea if it's even around. That was twenty-six years ago.
And the credit for our meeting belongs to my good friend at Tyndall AFB. Of course this was Danny from the state of Indiana. Were it not for Danny, meeting the love of my life would never have taken place. I shall never forget Danny's kindness, his friendship, nor the role he played in our lives. I have tried to locate Danny many times over the years. Were it not for the Grace of God I doubt I'd have ever found him. That long search has finally drawn to a close. I spoke with Danny this evening.
What follows serves as a musical bouquet; a tribute to the times as well as to the day we found each other. Whenever I hear these selections I fade back in memory. I'm swept back to the date of July 22, 1958. The day I met the love of my life. A love eternal; a cadence to the pounding surf at Long Beach.
I close with two lines from the lyrics of a popular recording. They best explain Peggy's impact on my life. She was always there when it counted most: "And when you smile the world is brighter; you touch my hand and I'm a king."
"One Night With You" "Teddy Bear" - Elvis Presley
"Think It Over" "Everyday" "Rave On" "Oh Boy" - Buddy Holly
"Just A Dream" - Jimmy Clanton
"What Am I Living For" - Chuck Willis
"In The Still Of The Night" "Two On The Aisle" - The Five Satins
"Sixteen Candles" - The Crests
"Splish, Splash" - Bobby Darin
"Flip Top Box" - Dicky Doo and The Don'ts
"Lonely Teardrops" - Jackie Wilson
"All I Have To Do Is Dream" - The Everly Brothers
"Get A Job" - The Silhouettes
"Western Movies" - The Olympics
"Great Balls Of Fire" - Jerry Lee Lewis
"Volare" - Bobby Rydell
"Stagger Lee" - Lloyd Price
"Lucille" - Little Richard
"Mister Blue" - Timmy and the Tulips
"Chantilly Lace" - The Big Bopper
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