Your maiden name rhymed with the actor who played Fonzi. You have a late sister named Debra. I’m very sorry. She and I were in the same class at Llewellyn and CHS, and I only recently saw her obit. But this is about you.
You were the beautiful one. Cheerleader. Rose Festival candidate. A year behind me and Debbie. Liked by everyone and coveted by all the guys, and therefore, of course, well out reach for the nerds and geeks like me. And therein is the tale-and the thanks.
A couple years after high school I ran into you at the PSU candy counter. Hi, how are you , Hi, fine. You didn’t really remember me. But you were as sweet and stunning as ever. That evening, I wondered, what would she say if I called? Would I have the courage to ask out the prettiest girl in school?
Your family name was in what used to be called the “White Pages.” So I called and asked for a date. Of course you said no. It wasn’t like in the movies, where the beauty and the goofball get together and live happily ever after. But from that phone call and forever after, I was never scared to call a woman. If I was ever nervous, I would tell myself ‘You called Donna. This call is easier.”
Sure, I got brushed off lots of times, but I also got some dates, including the one with the woman I’ve been married to for 30 years. So I hope you are well, and thank you for being the girl to build me up by turning me down.