My parents met in October of 1962. They both attended the same high school, but it was one evening at a party in Marblehead, MA, that they officially met.
My father, bored with the party and looking for more fun, was trying to get a bunch of people to leave and head to the King’s Rook downtown. Among the people he asked was a woman named Linda Whitmore; she declined. My mother, who was standing right next to her, said she’d love to go. So a group of people piled into my dad’s 1961 Thunderbird and headed out toward Marblehead Neck. And that’s where it started.
They dated the rest of their junior year and for Christmas of their senior year, my father proposed. My parents spent the rest of their senior year engaged and all was well. Then (because there’s always a “then”), my mother started working at an office job in Boston right after graduation. It was there that her co-workers told her she was far too young to get married, so she broke off the engagement and my father, being a lunatic like myself and enraged by my mother’s decision, took back the ring and threw it into Boston Harbor. Because that’s what rational people do, of course, throw away thousands of dollars in the Atlantic. So while their story started in 1962, the torrid and tumultuous part started in 1964.
After the demise of their relationship, my mother started dating other people. This would usually result in my father stalking her and sometimes even hiding in the bushes of her parents’ house, so he could leap out and threaten the kneecaps of any possible suitors. My father is a man of only 5’7″. His two best friends, on the other hand, Snowy and George, are both over six feet; so while my father made verbal threats and shook his finger in the direction of these innocent men trying to woo my mother, it was actually Snowy and George who put the fear of god in these fellas. Every time something soured with someone she was dating, my mother went running back to my father — just so they could have yet another fiery explosion that would result in my father putting a hole in a wall, ripping a necklace from her neck or crawling into her window at night to tell her that no one would ever love her the way he did. Now we can see why I’m so crazy.