Twenty years. Two decades. Long enough for someone not even born on that day to be halfway (or more) through a Bachelor's Degree or post-high school military enlistment. Enough time to have five different Presidents of the United States if each is elected only to a single term. A nice round number that doesn't even begin to denote its significance.
Twenty years ago - on August 11, 1988 - my life moved from the past to the future on a day that I will never forget. It was not the significance of a crippling injury, a childbirth, or even a major objective accomplishment, but it no doubt was the date that marked a turning point - one of so many - in my own life. A few days earlier, maybe as much as two weeks earlier, I had met the young lady. I worked at Pizza Hut Delivery just outside the back gate of Columbus Air Force Base for all of a month. It was my first 'regular' job that actually paid me minimum wage, a whopping $3.35 an hour back in those days. Of course, gas was less than $1 a gallon, so it went much further than today's minimum wage. The lady's name was Pamela Sue Warren. Her sister, Terri, was a cook. Terri stood out because she was the only worker at the store at that time who did not deliver pizzas. To the best of my recollection, she couldn't drive. But I first noticed Pam when I walked into the door around 5 p.m. one typically hot Southern afternoon. (As a side note, the record LOW temperature for August 11 was taken the next year, 1989, and still stands). I thought she was beautiful. She didn't look like she belonged working at the slave labor camp with the rest of us. I only saw her one more day, and she quit. I just happened to learn that she was Terri's sister.
I had been going through my own personal crisis for a number of years; it's called adolesence. The previous November I had received Jesus Christ as my personal Savior, and I was trying to live to please Him. I was also painfully shy when it came to girls, probably dating to the time in the eighth grade when two back-to-back incidents - my girlfriend departing for the USA (from Germany) and another girl laughing in my face when I asked her out - scarred me enough that I didn't date until my high school prom (May 15, 1987). At the time I decided I wanted to date Pam, I had only been out on two dates, my prom and with a Norwegian foreign exchange student who moved back home a week later.
As most college students, I needed money, and I needed it quick. I was offered some extra hours for the company going out and 'door hanging.' For those of you who may not know, door hanging is that irritating little slither of a coupon that you find attached to your door one afternoon when you come from work that does little more than get in the way. Terri needed extra hours, too, so she and I went out into several 'safe' neighborhoods door hanging. This also gave me the time to pose questions to Terri. Did Pam have a boyfriend? No. (I must admit that was probably the most shocking answer to the many questions I posed). What were her plans? She's joining the Navy in January. Do you think she'd go out with me? I don't know, I'll ask her. I must have badgered Terri for the entire time we were out.
After two hours of bothering Terri to no end, I went home and told her I'd call Pam about 3 pm. I did. I asked her out and she accepted. Except she had no idea where she wanted to go or anything. I decided to be decisive even if it meant disaster, so we went to the local Captain D's seafood restaurant. The date had disaster written all over it. I told her to dress casual. So I wore shorts while she wore a yellow summer dress. The time at Captain D's went fast, and then we just drove around a few places in the county in my 1973 Volkswagen that was the first car that was ever actually mine. The date lasted - are you ready for this? - less than two full hours.
I went home happy but a little frustrated. We ended with a handshake because that's the way it was done back in my day. I went home thinking I had committed a complete and total disaster. But I must've done something right because Terri came into work the next day telling me that Pam had a great time and had talked about the date. That was good. Neither one of us was spoken for so we went out again - this time the movie, "Young Guns," where Pam stated I had a vocal resemblance to Emilio Estevez. Pretty good movie I must say. The next week we decided we'd go see 'Bull Durham,' but I wound up having to work past my time and we didn't make it, so I just went over to her parents' place and hung out.
It all sounds good, and it was. My memories of the time are overwhelmingly positive. She helped me learn my lines for the fall play at my junior college, "Death Takes A Holiday." She drove me back to college once, and she wrote every week. She always closed her letters with some witty advice such as 'Accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative.' And our birthdays were only four days apart although she was three years older than I. Everything seemed to be moving along like a dream.
But the dream soon became a nightmare, and the blame rests entirely on me. Pam never - and I mean never - did anything wrong. And it was not that I had a completely wandering eye although I was looking around. Pam joined the Navy, and the understanding (so far as I understood) was that we were free to date. I did, twice. Neither girl was Pam but there was simply a problem: when I was with Pam, I never felt those overhwelming feelings of desire and love. It wasn't her fault; maybe I was pushing myself in the wrong direction. I felt sort of like as a couple we could be content as friends and that was about it. I was confused and turning in every direction. So I did the only thing I could do: I chased her away from me intentionally.
"It's not you, it's me" has become a cliche' for the break-up. I did not know about such cliches at the time, but it was (and is to this day) true. It was me, and it appears that Pam was able to find someone who could love her better than I was capable and in a way she so richly deserved. I have since apologized for my ineptitude and the issues that overwhelmed at the time of which I was unaware.
Pamela Sue - thank you for helping to put me on the right path, for being a good friend, and for being fun to be around. I'll never forget you, and though I dropped the ball, I thank my God that I was privileged to know you for all-too-brief a period of time.
In my own way, I love you.
