Stories

Lynne

Every young man remembers his first real love. I am no different.

I've had two great loves in my life. This story is about the first, the young girl, long gone from this world, who still holds a small piece of my heart.

I met Lynne in geometry class in my sophomore year at Woodlawn High School in Birmingham. It was 1968, a tumultuous year in America. Vietnam was in full swing, the Civil Rights movement was changing a racist Birmingham forever, and I was taking another math course.

Freshman algebra had not been a friend to me. Mathematics had never been my forte. It had become vividly clear that I had zero study skills, even less discipline, and that my dream of becoming a doctor was fanciful. I sat in the back of the class, hoping Mrs. Godwin would never call on me.

From this vantage point, I could watch the girl, two seats from the front in the third row. She was the teacher's pet, gorgeous, and extremely intelligent. I paid more attention to her than to anything Ms. Godwin said.

As the semester progressed, I found little ways of speaking to her - a "good morning" here, a "may I borrow a pencil" there, or just trying to say something that didn't make me look like the abysmal dunce people thought me to be. She was always sweet, constantly happy, and with an engaging smile. Her eyes were emerald green, like I have never again seen.

Slowly, I changed seats with people, moving closer to the front and more centered on the class, closer to the pretty girl, living dangerously with Ms. Godwin.

Soon, I was sitting in the second row, two seats back, directly to her right. Now, I was able to talk to her before and after class. We talked a lot.

When I finally summoned the courage to ask her out, I posed the question after class sometime in January. Yes, it took me five months. Though I expected to be shutdown, she said, "It took you long enough to ask."

Lynne lived in a little white house at 617 56th Street South, with an "S" on the front screen door.
We talked on the phone for hours every night. I can't remember what we talked about.

Though she was Baptist, and I was Methodist, we attended services at my 67th Street Methodist and her Crestway Baptist on Crestwood Boulevard.

When we first began dating, we double-dated with others - Carey Martin and his girlfriend, Roy Ledbetter and his dates, and, once or twice, my Brother Jim and his girlfriend Linda (could have been Melody).

We attended school functions together - games, pep rallies, and shows. After which, we went with all of our friends to Shoney's. She taught me to eat onion rings with salt and catsup. I still eat them that way.

I remember her wearing White Shoulders perfume. It remains my favorite.

We were in the junior chorus together. She joined the Girl's Glee Club (GGC) when I joined the Warbler's Club in 1969.

I don't remember why we broke up, but I think it was because of my friendship with Becky Wood. I can say, with all honesty, that there was no other girl.

I remember taking her hand one day between classes and dragging her away from her new boyfriend. I made her cry. I hate this memory.

In my junior year, the Warblers put on a "Farewell Hobo Show." While Lynn and I weren't dating, we had always talked about going to the Thursday night show, Opening Night, together, and I promised to take her. A week before the event, I approached her to confirm this date. She already had plans. I realized that this was not her fault, but it hurt. I thought this date might be a chance for us to get back together.

High school was hard.

The Summer after our Junior year, the GGC and the Warblers took separate trips to Ft. Walton Beach, Florida. I went along, but stayed to myself most of the time, attended a few house parties, but mostly lived on the beach. The last night, she and I ran into each other in a little beach pavilion. We talked for hours but she was seeing someone to whom she was going back.

Summers were hard.

Throughout our Senior year, I had feelings for her but never asked her out. She went out with a couple of my friends, once on a triple date with Carey, putting her between Carey and me in front and my date in the backseat of Carey's Oldsmobile with the other couple.

She married a professor from her college, gave him a beautiful daughter, and became a professor and college administrator, the First Lady of Jacksonville, Alabama, when her husband became Mayor, a loving grandmother, and a published author.

She didn't attend our first two reunions, but she and her husband came to our thirtieth. We wrote back and forth before the event and I think we were both looking forward to seeing each other. The night was fun, we sat at a table with all of our old friends and caught up. She and I, with permission from Jerry, danced. Though the girl was gone, her eyes were just as green as ever. After our last dance, she kissed me, to "see if it is like I remember." It was for me.

I contacted her again by mail a few years later and received one reply. In this letter, she told me that her breast cancer had returned but said little more. I fired off a quick letter asking "What does this mean?" hoping she'd talk to me about it and her next steps.

She never returned my letter.

I found out about her death about three months afterward.

I went to visit her in May of 2013. It was hard to believe I was standing at her grave site. Sylvia and Kady went with me and helped me find her grave. They stood at a respectful distance as Lynn and I had a good talk.