It was suggested by my son that I add a chapter about my dating experiences to my Storyworth book that the family bought me for Christmas:

I did not date much in high school due to my timid, unaggressive nature. As one of the youngest in my class, I was struggling with the nickname “Smiley,” couldn’t see past my big ears, acted immature, and was admittedly a mama’s boy. In retrospect, I missed some signs from the girls that I went to school with and instead spent most of my time dating a freshman from rival Concord High School that my good friend Grant and his steady girlfriend Keven put together for me. Her name was Debi, a skinny little thing with dark, stiff, puffy hair that was fashionable at the time. Her claim to fame was marching in the Rose Bowl as a band member, but I can’t remember what instrument she played. Although we were together for nearly my entire sophomore year, I never took her to a prom or dance at either school. My junior year, it took the support of a roomful of equally shy classmates and Mrs. Pippenger’s encouragement to finally convince me to make the phone call to Sue Scott. Eleanor Pippenger, my good friend Dennis’ mother, chaperoned overnight parties in the basement of her home where all of us “cool” guys would gather. She was our weekend mother, guidance counselor, advisor, Italian cook, confidant, and only female friend through those tough high school years. Both Eleanor and Dennis have since passed. 

Sue was the daughter of a woman that worked with my dad at Miles Laboratories, although I don’t recall any suggestion on his part to ask her out. They were members of our First Presbyterian Church, and she was in my science and math classes, a much more serious and better student than I ever was to be. In fact, I think she ultimately became the Valedictorian of our class of over 1000 students. All I remember about our prom date was the after-party event at the Lake Michigan dunes, an informal class tradition. While the other girls were in their bikinis, working on tans, and playing volleyball or other interactive games, she was studying for a Chemistry exam. There was just no spark between us, as if I would have known what that was or what to do with it. It was our first and only date, filled with awkwardness and not too many things in common, despite my great intelligence and sense of humor. It did appease all four of our parents, knowing that we did not sit home alone on Prom night. Thankfully, I didn’t embarrass my dad or Mrs. Scott, as far as I know. Sue eventually laid eyes on another classmate, who she apparently married after school, but tragically he died soon after in a home accident. 

There was one other high school date that I made with Debra Stanley, but as was standard, never developed into more than a faint memory. On the other hand, I did soon strike up a serious dating relationship that started in summer choir camp (similar to infamous band camp) between my junior and senior years. Leslie was also an excellent student, apparently the dominant force of attraction with all the women in my life. I have pictures of both the Sadie Hawkins dance, where she must have invited me, and the 1969 Elkhart High School prom where I reciprocated. This relationship continued even after we both left Elkhart for separate colleges. I went to visit her at Stevens College in Missouri, making the long drive from Albion, Michigan but for some reason we eventually went our separate ways. She persevered to get her doctorate in psychology, served professionally as a counselor, and supposedly never married. Unlike, Sue and Debra, I have maintained contact with Leslie on and off throughout the years. 

At Albion College, we initially selected our dating partners through what we referred to as, “The Joke Book,” a compilation of fellow student photos that we each received as part of orientation. As a result of a phone call, I once again selected a candidate well over my head and to no avail when I spent an evening with Ms. Putnam (first name forgotten), whose father was a major financial contributor through Dow Chemical, while the grandfather had a building on campus named after him. If I were to have married wealthy, this would have been my best opportunity, but I was too intimidated. I also had an underage drinking date that included an intimate conversation in a cornfield. Years later it was noted that she was hoping for a follow-up and kept the ear of corn that I presented her with as a treasured souvenir, but I repeatedly missed any cues related to appeal. For the rest of my time at Albion, I stuck with Anne, who I met through three Sigma Chi Fraternity brothers, conveniently dating related sorority sisters. The most memorable of our adventures, were when the six of us spent New Year’s Eve in Milwaukee skiing at the Lake Geneva Playboy Club, followed by a Bucks game. We also went together to a Three Dog Night concert at Cobo Hall in Detroit, later adding a Gladys Knight and the Pips performance and a Classics IV concert, both on campus. Numerous Greek dances/parties at our respective houses filled the rest of our time together. Anne eventually married the upperclassman who first recruited me into the fraternity. 

To make another long story short (and perhaps less boring), it was then off to Bloomington and more toads to kiss, before hooking up with Marcia on the streets of New Orleans. She left Indiana University at the same time I did, and we moved into an Elkhart apartment while I finished my degree in South Bend. We were married in 1972 during a Fort Wayne Episcopal Church ceremony, and thus the dating of others ended.