The “Fall-Back” Date

Margo Olson was the daughter of one of my mother’s friends and, coincidentally, my Principles of Democracy teacher.  If it hadn’t have been for her influence, I would have gone to The Ohio State University like my brother and sister had.  In retrospect, this decision was one of the most momentous of my life.  As I have mentioned previously, I was inordinately shy.  I didn’t want to be, but that had come to be the expectation among my peers.  It was the role I played.  I knew that if I truly wanted to change, I would need to go someplace where no one knew me.

A graduate of Miami University, Margo insisted that I consider her alma mater.  I also applied to the University of Wisconsin, but couldn’t afford the out-of-state tuition.  So in the fall of 1966, three of us from Brookhaven enrolled at Miami – the editor of the school newspaper, the homecoming queen, and the president of the audio-visual club (me).  Although the other two were far better students, I was the only one who stuck it out the entire four years.  They missed their friends; I was making new ones.

Taking up residence in Stanton Hall, I found I was in a dormitory filled with guys who were even more socially backward than I was.  At this point in my life, I had dated exactly two girls: Amber and Barb.  However, as soon as I arrived on campus, I began asking girls I met in my classes if they would like to go out and, to my amazement, most of them did.  Nearly every Friday and Saturday night, I had a date with one girl or another and, as I would leave Stanton Hall, my roommate and other residents of our corridor would line up to watch me go.  I felt as though their hopes were riding on me.

One of the girls I began dating was Cheryl from J.A. Presents.  For some reason, I didn’t know she was going to Miami.  Soon, we were each other’s “fall-back” date in case we needed someone to go to a party or concert and couldn’t find anyone else.  Cheryl was a willowy blonde a la Veronica Lake and I had more than one guy tell me how jealous they were of my girlfriend, but, in truth, we were just friends.  We were both going through fraternity/sorority “rush” and it was convenient to take each other to events which required a date.

I had started out in Air Force R.O.T.C., but quit after awhile because I was being pressured to take a leadership role I didn’t want.  Basically, I knew how to march because I had been a Boy Scout and there didn’t seem to be too many recruits who possessed this “essential” skill.  Afterwards, the only thing I missed was not being able to keep my powder blue, wool overcoat.  Cheryl, meanwhile, was a member of Angel Flight, the female wing of A.F.R.O.T.C.  At the time, all the beautiful girls on campus seemed to be in Angel Flight.

Around our junior year, Cheryl and I saw less and less of each other.  I knew something had happened in her home life, but I wasn’t quite sure what.  It wasn’t until 35 years later that I learned it had something to do with her father.  As a result, she lost her parents’ financial support and, consequently, had to make a commitment to the Air Force so that she could complete college.  Following graduation, she carved out a career in the Air Force, married, and had a couple of sons.

When Cheryl’s mother died a couple of years ago, I saw the obituary in the newspaper and went to the funeral home during visiting hours to see her.  She looked much the same; time has been kind to her.  However, I was saddened to learn that she has no happy memories of Columbus.  I didn’t push her for details, but whatever had happened way back then hadn’t been pleasant.  She said that after things settled down a bit, she might give me a call so I could help her remember the good times.  But she never did.  Maybe it’s easier that way.

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