I have been sitting here staring at my empty blog page for the last hour wondering how and why I remember all this stuff. Somehow I don't think it is the old-age thing where you can only remember things from long ago since I can tell you what I ate last Tuesday or a conversation with a client about interior design fifteen years ago. But don't despair if you can't remember events. I can't recall exactly when the Class of 64's high school prom was or the theme, if there was one.
Etched in my memory are all the events leading up to and the evening itself. Since my parents never took any pictures after I was five or six the only piece of memorabilia I have is a corsage and a card in a scrap book marking the occasion. At least I took pictures of my son, Wes, heading off to his prom at a fancy hotel ballroom in Detroit wearing a tux and riding in a limo. To haunt Wally for the rest of his life is a picture of him and his date, he in the sliver sequined tie and cumber bun I made him to match his date's dress. Oh well, on with the story.
When prom time approached I was not dating anyone very steadily. Guess I was too busy with plays or the concept of being the next Miss America. There was a boy I had a few dates with, nothing serious. My mother didn't like him because when he came over to our house he would pick little pieces of the rubber off his tennis shoes and deposited them on the floor. Perhaps she scared the crap out of him which is a good possibility.
Actually I was not too crazy about him. All through high school I had double dated with him and his date on several occasions and gone to parties at his house. He was, I will add, rather full of himself. But when he asked me to go to the prom I was not about to send him packing as there were no other prospects on the horizon. So Mother had to keep sweeping up pieces of rubber from his tennis shoes and I endured endless evenings of hearing how great he was. Until the phone call.
There are certain events in a teenager life that one never forgets. About a week and a half before the prom with the dress made, shoes dyed to match and beauty shop appointment confirmed he called and told me he found someone better to go to the prom with. I don't remember what I said to him that night - probably very little. I know what I would have said to him at this point in my life but I was pretty nice back then.
The minute I hung up the phone the tears started to flow and I remember yelling, "I knew he would do it, I knew he would do it!". Mother said something to console me but there was nothing anyone could have said to stop the now buckets of tears falling from my eyes. Now you have to realize that when I really am heartbroken it is difficult for me to stop crying. The more I cry, the more my eyes tend to swell closed. Not a pretty sight. After crying all night, no doubt knowing my life was over, I had to go to school the next day.
The next morning I did not recognize the face that I saw in the mirror. My eyes were so swollen that they were only little slits plus I had a pounding headache. My darling pharmacist Dad did not offer me any drugs and I did not know at the time how well Preparation H worked on swollen eyes. So I had to go off to school and face the questions as to what was the matter. If I had answered that question the flood of tears would have started again. I spent most of the day avoiding everyone but getting strange looks from all my classmates.
Speech class was one of my last classes of the day. Most of the kids were lot asking questions by that time but one boy seemed very concerned. He was the best of the best when it came to debate, almost the same height I was, rather tiny actually and wore big horned rimmed glasses. We had been in classes together all through high school but I really did not know him all that well. He very quietly asked me what was wrong and somehow I managed to tell him about the jerk who broke the date to the prom with me without bursting into tears.
He looked at me through those huge glasses and said the same thing happened to him. I don't think any tears fell during our conversation but if they had the tears would have been as much for him as for myself. The girl that broke the date with him was really cute and they would have made a darling couple. I think I got over feeling sorry for myself the instant he told me his story. Forget about the jerk who broke the date with me - how could anyone do that to someone as nice as Drew?
Did he ask me to the Prom right then? I can't really remember but to characterize a popular cartoon of the day on TV It was like Mighty Mouse coming to save the day. Flowers would have popped up at the bottom of the screen and birds and clouds would have floated through the sky.
Funny how fast an upside down world can turn right side up. I think I knew from the minute he asked me to the Prom that I would have the best time ever.
Wish I had I had a picture of my dress. I had learned from a lot of negative experiences with "special occasion" dresses that I had to take matters into my own hands. If I had asked Dad he would have said to go to one of the department stores and pick one out and charge it. In those days you just signed a hand-written ticket. He would have then faced the wrath of Mother over it. If I went shopping with Mother she would have picked out something I hated or had me wear some goofy dress I already had. This had to be special and my choice.
So I went to the fabric department of Hunt's Department Store and bought everything I needed to make what I wanted to wear and charged it. I remember it was sleeveless (I wasn't good at putting sleeves in), a slightly gathered skirt to the floor and gold satin on the bottom, maybe a brocade on the top. The Buster Brown Shoe Store stocked in hundreds of pairs of white satin heels. Once you bought the size you needed they dyed them to match your dress. I have the thought that the dress may have actually been hideous but I was always proud of something I made.
Prom night arrived and Drew came to pick me up. He looked quite smashing all dressed up and it only took a few minutes for me to get over the fact that I was taller in the gold satin heels. Off we went to dinner at Baker's Catfish Restaurant where we were surrounded by many other Prom attendee's. Then off to the dance at the high school gym where we danced the night away. Of course we saw the two villains that broke dates with us and I think we both had to laugh as we were having more fun than any other couple there.
Back in those days I know there were "after parties" as I had been to one my sophomore year that was not fun and I got into trouble for getting home late. My junior year I had to get a ride home with another couple due to a huge argument with my date, once again late, once again in trouble. Drew took me home by the stroke of midnight, sort of like a Cinderella except I had both of my shoes. It had been one perfect night and the beginning of a lifelong friendship.
Marshell has been telling me for the last twenty years that everything happens for a reason and it usually happens for the best. Guess I was learning that little fact early on and just did not realize it.
Drew
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