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"Wonderful Wooing"
This column is for you who are engaged in serious wooing during the run up to Valentine's Day. Got a sweetheart? Trying to capture the attention of someone with whom you would like to make a life? This column is for you! I consider myself to be the southern-fried cupid for the day. It's true that I am not your conventional cupid, although I think I'm as cuddly as most any old geezer cupid could possibly be. I do maintain certain standards. For instance, I don't wear one of those little togas. I insist on being fully clothed. And you know me; I have no halo. Also, I don't shoot arrows through hearts. However, I do like to encourage romance. Romance is a serious spiritual thing, you know.
I was talking recently with two dear friends about their 70-year marriage. Luke and Sammie Long have known how to make a marriage. Luke said, "Harold, I'm going to tell you something I've never told. It's a wonder Sammie ever married me. I almost killed myself trying to get her attention." Then Luke told me the following delightful story about his wooing of that pretty girl long ago.
Sammie was still in high school. Luke was a few years older, a dashing fellow who knew how to fly an airplane. This was back when airplanes were made of fabric and sticks. Well, Luke decided to fly the little "Cub" plane over the small town where he and Sammie lived. He thought it would wow her if he did a few acrobatic maneuvers over the downtown. This, he reckoned would get her serious attention. So, up he went. He explained to me that whenever you attain sufficient altitude to be above the treetops, you immediately enter a danger zone. That was certainly true on this day when he set out to woo Sammie. He came roaring over downtown at 1,000 feet. Then he did two aeronautical, show-off, fancy rolls. That went well, but then a gizzmo related to the propeller sheared off and rendered the propeller useless. Rapidly, the little plane began to lose altitude. Of course, when you start to fall at 1,000 feet, you don't have a lot of altitude to lose. Then things got really serious when one of his wings hit a telephone pole. When that wing fell off, well, that wonderful wooing adventure was pretty much over. He crashed on Cedar Street.
Luke said that in five minutes it seemed like 5,000 people had gathered to view the wreckage and the site of the catastrophe. He walked out of the debris unhurt, although Sammie reminded him that he broke his watch in the crash. They went to a movie that night. He had lost the plane that day, but he got the girl!
Luke Long went on to teach Army Air Corps pilots to fly in WWII. I don't think he ever told them about his near calamitous courtship with Sammie. He is a modest man and would have been reluctant to talk about a personal thing like that. Also that was long before he got a talkative friend like me.
As we concluded our conversation, he turned to Sammie and said, "We have never had an argument during these 70 years. Have we?"
Sammie said, "Well no, we've never hit each other." While I roared with laqughter, she had a moment to rethink that comment. Then she added, "There was that time during the night when you threw your arm over and gave me a big whack!" I roared even louder while Luke tried to explain that he was asleep and didn't know what he was doing.
Luke is 94 years old now. He is blind. But I can see his love for her in his eyes. He is frustrated because he can't help her with household chores now. And I can see her love for him in her eyes. I think they ought to be the poster couple for putting a little wildness in the fine art of wooing. I hope you single folk will give it a try on Valentine's Day!
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