2018-08-27 Cincinnati
Happy Anniversary Part 8
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Our Romance Part II: Courtship, beginning 19 August 1977
…continued from 2018-08-26
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Cleveland, Ohio
August 20, 1977
“We have several options for the day,” I told Lawson. “We can take a driving tour of University Circle – the area around Case Western, and downtown, the Flats, the lake, East Cleveland. I’ll introduce you to the Best Location in the Nation.[1] Or we can walk around University Circle, enjoy the lagoon, visit the Art Museum, the Museum of Natural History. Or I can show you the med. school. If you’re feeling adventurous, we can go out to the Holden Arboretum – it’s about 45 minutes away – and take a long walk. We could go to Taylor Road and meet my parents…”
“Let’s do that!” Lawson interrupted me.
“Holden Arboretum?”
“No, meet your parents.”
“OK, sure,” I agreed. I knew they’d love to meet Lawson.
***
By the time we got to Taylor Road, Steve and Liz Edwards had already arrived. Steve was a classmate of my father at Princeton, and a fellow ambulance driver for the American Field Service during World War II. The six of us sat around the dining room[2] table, the hub of my family’s household, sharing stories about the war, the Middle East – where both Steve and my father had been stationed, Cameroon & Kenya, book-learning vs. life-education, professions vs. jobs (both Liz and my mother had devoted their working lives to raising children, while their husbands pursue careers), shifts in expectations of women in just one generation.
Lawson was thoughtful and articulate. He exemplified my idea of “gentleman:” making everyone feel comfortable and significant, while not calling attention to himself. He was enthusiastic learning about the lives of my parents and their friends; he was curious and smart; he was well-educated and well-traveled; he cared about others; he abhorred injustice; he was aware of the privilege of his own upbringing and craved giving back.
The more I listened, the more I loved him.
***
That night my parents were going to Blossom[3] and Lawson (and I) eagerly accepted their invitation to join them. Only lawn tickets were still available, so we wouldn’t sit with them in the theater’s real seats, but as long as the rain held off, grass suited us fine. Plus, the trip itself would involve at least an hour in the car each way – more time to get to know each other.
Indeed, Lawson and my parents continued their lovefest, while I glowed seeing that the man with whom I was falling in love had such an appealed so fully to my parents. I wasn’t surprised – I knew already how much my brother Jefferson loved him – but I was nevertheless reassured.
The Blossom event was no ordinary concert. It was Beverly Sills! Lawson wore a shirt that pictured Seurat’s painting “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte,” and I wore a flowing dress from the Arab Market in Jerusalem. He held my arm as we floated through the hills surrounding the Blossom pavilion, listening to Sills’s spectacular soprano.
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Cleveland, Ohio
Sunday, August 21, 1977
Lawson was scheduled at the lab Sunday evening, so he needed to leave early to allow for bad luck hitching. Right after breakfast I drove him to the Eddy Road on-ramp to I-90 heading west. Our parting kiss – neither our first nor our last – was remarkable because of how lost I felt in his embrace. I was no longer aware of my physical environment or my physical being.
At the same time, I felt connected. At home. United. I felt found.
***
Mackinaw City, Michigan
Friday, September 2, 1977
Case Western Reserve Medical School has a great curriculum and schedule. First and second year students learn in blocks that integrate the basic science, anatomy, physiology, pathology, and clinical components for each organ system. Students attend classes 8 am to noon six days a week, and have afternoons available for lab (especially dissection), clinical assignments, electives, jobs (☹), and of course: studying.
My parents lent me their car for the weekend, and I left Cleveland at approximately 12:01 to drive to Canada, with 3 chilly cans of Tab to keep me awake on the 7-or-so hour trip. Lawson had decided that it would be more fun for me to meet his parents at their summer place in Canada rather than Cincinnati. His mother, lady par excellence, sent me a handwritten invitation, so the visit would be Completely Above Board.
I drove straight across Ohio to Michigan, then straight north to the Mackinaw City, where Lawson awaited me. He was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the designated bookstore, reading a child’s book on astronomy. He had hitched from Campedor, passing Sault Sainte Marie, Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, St. Ignace, and the breathtaking Mackinac Straits that link Lake Michigan and Lake Huron.
The setting sunlight illuminated Lawson and created a glow around him, just as his inner warmth had shown a shimmering when I met him at Cleveland’s Public Square, a mere two weeks earlier. And the weekend together would further burnish his radiance.
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To be continued…
[1] I’m sure I didn’t use Mark O’Donnell’s alternative, “the Best Erection in the Section.”
[2] My grandfather, Howard M Wells, took seriously his duties as the officiating minister for Lawson’s and my wedding. The only lesson I remember from his obligatory premarital counseling is, “Marriages are not made in the bedroom. They’re made over the dining room table.”
[3] Blossom Music Center is Cleveland’s outdoor performance venue, where acres of picnic grounds augment the seating capacity of the roofed pavilion.
VicWulsin 