I have to backtrack here a bit, because Al's story took 6 years, and there were the odd interesting men-experiences in between worth mentioning.

John - 1961 and 1968

When I was in high school, I was very good at playing the piano, and as a result spent a lot of my time accompanying groups and soloists either when they were singing or playing instruments. Our high school, as I am sure was true of most high schools in America at that time, had a strong competitive spirit, and our athletes usually excelled  in regional and state competitions in football and basketball, with the whole student-body and many others of the town following them in their games. But we also had regional and then state wide competitions for soloists, chorus work, bands, science projects and drama groups.

The State competitions, if one had progressed to that level, and we nearly always did, took place at one of the 8 cities in North Dakota, each about 100 miles in one direction or another from the others.

In our senior year, I was involved in playing for many band soloists, and one of them was John. He was also a senior, and I had long daydreamed about having him as part of my romantic life. He was tall and thin, wore thick glasses and was not conventionally good looking, but he was smart and clever.

John played the saxophone, and he played it very well. He won the top awrd for the event which was held in Dickinson that year. And because I had contributed to his success, he bought me a present - a necklace with 5 big pale blue stones. I was thrilled to get it, and again my hopes soared that I meant something more to him than just a friend. But nothing came from it.

That summer, my sister Judy was home from college and she came to me one day and said, “I’ve been asked out by John. We’re going to the movies. You don’t care, do you?” She knew that I had long fancied him, with no success.

“No, I don’t mind," I lied. But I did mind. I minded like anything. I was so jealous I could hardly stand it, and when she came home that night, I pretended I was asleep so she wouldn’t see I had been crying.

The next day she gave me a present. It was an album called Johnny Mathis’ Greatest Hits. He was my all time favourite singer, but we didn’t have money to spend on records, so we had very few. I asked her why, and she said, that I was much more important to her than John could ever be, and she wouldn’t be seeing him again. She said she was sorry she had hurt me.

January, 1968

Philip, my husband, and I were getting off the train in Chicago having spent Christmas with my parents in Bismarck. I felt very odd as we got up to get off the train, after a mammoth 1000 mile journey of 36 hours, which should have been 16 hours, due to ice on the tracks, heavy snow, all sorts of problems. I told Philip that I felt funny, but the next thing I remember was lying on the ground with all sorts of people walking past us, giving me dirty looks, assuming that I had fallen in a drunken stupor.

But I had fainted, and no doubt it was due to my pregnancy and the extreme heat of the train and then the extreme cold of the outside temperature. But as Philip was helping me to my feet, who should appear by my old friend John, although he was now known by his first name, which was Tom.

It turned out he was working at the same hospital I was, and was at the moment doing his tour of duty in the maternity ward. So I saw him, off and on, during my pre-natal visits after that.

When we were in high school he wanted to be a nuclear physicist, but had changed into medicine when he was at University. He was married to a girl who had been Miss Fargo - a real beauty. So he did well, without the help of me or my sister. But I sometimes wonder how different things might have been if Judy hadn’t put me first.

*****

St. Teresa’s was an all girls College at Winona, in south-eastern Minnesota which I attended from September 1961. Dating was not encouraged, and we seldom had opportunities to meet men. However, we did occasionally go to the neighbouring Catholic boys’ College, St. Thomas’ to watch basketball games, with a dance afterwards. It was there that I met a boy called Mike. He was ugly and spotty and really a loser, but I didn't feel I could afford to be choosy since he was the only boy I'd even spoken to that year. We danced a bit and when the night was over he asked me out to a movie for the following week. I agreed, without the least bit of enthusiasm.

Mike was from southern Illinois and had what seemed to me a very strong southern accent, and I was forever having him repeat what he said, as I couldn’t make it out. His views were very anti-Black people. I spent the whole date arguing with him, and disliking him more each moment. When we got back to the college, the nun in charge was there with her bottle of holy water to sprinkle on the couples to keep devilish thoughts away while the boys kissed the girls goodnight, but she didn't need to use it on us. I never saw Mike again - by mutual consent.

 

*****

Bill - late 1964 - aged 21, attending NDSU.

“No, Bill,” I said testily, “I don’t want to go out with you tonight, or next week, or ever again.”

“What about one of your friends from the dorm, then?” Bill asked “Just check to see if there is anybody else there who wants to go out, will you?”

“NO” I said and slammed down the phone.

Poor Bill. He has a right to be confused. I was perfectly happy to go out with him, let him spend money on me, kiss me, and then agree that I would do it all again.

But finally I thought that it was a waste of my time and an injustice to him. I didn’t even like the man. I was using him just to be able to say that I had a date.

We met at the Lutheran Centre where I went for lunch each day, now that I had quit my sorority. They did a cheap good family style lunch, and it was more sociable that going to the canteen and sitting at a table on my own. Bill was a loner like me, and sat by me one day and we struck up a conversation.

There was nothing about Bill that I found attractive. He was not good looking, although it would be unkind to call him ugly. He had no interesting conversation at all. Maybe I didn’t either, but that wasn’t the point. But we were both lonely, and we were both there. So I agreed to go out with him.

I suppose all told, we had five dates - one of them to the Homecoming Game, quite a big event in American Colleges with good football teams. NDSU was very good at football - and it was well known that many of the students had been given special entries to get in - and allowances made for them to stay on - because their only abilities were on the gridiron. The school colours were green and yellow, and I wore chrysanthemum pom-poms to the homecoming game. I can’t remember who played or if we won.

The only other specific date I remember was the one on Sunday after my 21st birthday. I had been home for the weekend, and I was really looking forward to having a date for an extra celebration. Bill knew it was my 21st birthday, but he didn’t really do much to make it special. We drove into Minnesota, just across the Red River, as you couldn’t buy liquor in North Dakota on a Sunday, but then we arrived at the restaurant, it turned out it was a BYO  sort of place, and he hadn’t, so we had cokes instead.

It was shortly after that that I dumped him - over the phone. I decided that having nobody was better than having Bill. Sorry Bill.

*****

In July 1965 I set out for my year’s dietetic internship at the US Public Health Service Hospital, Staten Island, New York. It was a very big deal for me. I had never been so far from home before. I had never flown before. My parents thought I was mad to choose New York to live in, as I could have had the pick of a dozen places closer to home. But I was firm in my intent, and very excited about the whole experience.

I got a taxi from Kennedy to the hospital - which was a very long way away - over the famous Varizanno Narrows Bridge, even longer than the Golden Gate. I think the bill was $50, which was just about all the cash I had on me.

I met, and quickly got to like the other five girls who were doing the same thing as me. But we also felt quite at home with six of the last year’s interns who would be in the job with us from July to September, when another six girls from our year would join.

After supper Dorcas and Arlene, two of the older interns said “There’s a party tonight at one of the doctor’s apartments. Would you like to go?”

“Why not,” we said, and loaded into various cars and drove off into the real world.

I can't remember the name of the doctor who had the party but he was tall and good looking and very confident. There were perhaps 30 or so of us at the party, but the only women were we seven interns so we had no trouble finding men. The USPHS offered internships in dentistry, pharmacy and medicine as well as dietetics, but ours was the only group of all women so we always were in the minority in number. There were nurses around as well, but we never seemed to have much contact with them or with physical therapists or any of the other paramedical groups which contained women.

After a few drinks and a long detailed discussion on the literary merit of the book Lolita which had just come onto the best seller list, I paired off with a very attractive medical intern whose name I also cannot remember.

He was very attentive and would quite happily have made a night of it with me. I remember when we were dancing closely he told me what a good pelvic structure I had. He said, “You’ll have no trouble having babies.”

I couldn't believe my luck at finding such a nice boyfriend so quickly and really thought he was just my type.

Later on the way home Dorcas broke the bad news to me. He was not only married, but his wife was pregnant. Thus ended my first lesson of living in New York. Don't trust anybody.

Whenever I saw him in the hospital from then on I gave him a dirty look. Poor man. He had only danced with me and commented on my anatomy. How was he to know I'd been planning my wedding with him playing a featuring role?

But he was only the first of many people who I auditioned in my mind for that role over that year.