Happy 45th Anniversary!

Forty-five years. February 19, 1966 -- Millvale Pa. Christ Lutheran Church. Joan and I exchanged wedding vows.

We had met four years earlier at Ohio University where I was a Junior and Joan was an incoming Freshman. Actually, the meeting was more of an observation on my part.

It was the first day of class, and I was in my seat on the aisle in the bass section of the large auditorium. Coming in a little late and having to walk all the way down to the remaining seat in the alto section was was a thin young woman with green hair. Green. No one had green hair in 1962! I had to meet her.

I happened to know the alto she was sitting next to and asked her to let the green-haired beauty know I was interested in meeting her. The next rehearsal, I introduced myself; it did not go well.

Little did I know that the green hair freaked Joan. She had not wanted it and was mortified to have it, but had been nice and friendly with her new roommate, another freshman, who really had not wanted to come to college but rather wanted to be a beautician, caring for and coloring other people's hair. Joan had humored her and allowed her to put just a little black rinse on Joan's lightish brown hair. Voila -- Green hair.

Also playing into our first meeting was a habit I had picked up at the Little Theatre of Portsmouth, Ohio -- touching people (I have since modified this behaviour.) "Hey, David (elbow in the arm), nice prat-fall." Or ... "Betty, I loved the way you 'glided' across the stage to Chuck" (pat on Betty's shoulder).

So, when I walked up to Joan in her green hair, who was leaning on a table after rehearsal, and said "Hi, Joan, I'm Ron Giles," as my hand covered her hand that was on the table. She pulled it away. Who knew that Lutherans don't touch each other. It didn't go well.

One of the 5 fellows that lived in our house on E. State Street in Athens, worked in the Cafeteria of the dorm where Joan lived. Dewey kept me informed of Joan's comings and goings. It turned out that she was very popular, particularly with the fraternities, going out practically every weekend; I was not a fraternity kind of guy.

Weeks passed, till finally, I screwed up my courage and called her at her dorm, inviting her to go with me to a movie on Wednesday night; she was busy.

I called her the next week and asked her to go to the Lantern for dinner and some 3.2 beer; she was busy.

I called her the next week and asked her out for Saturday night, and ... she was busy.

Little did I know that she started turning down dates to keep one open for me. You can imagine my excitement when she finally said "yes." It was the beginning of many dates.

I tried to marry Joan after I graduated in 1964, and she still had another two years left. In those days, propriety called on the man to ask the Father for permission, which I did. Her Father, a salesman, talked me out of it, preferring that we wait until she had graduated. We honored that, but Joan hastened the date of her graduation by attending summer school, which is how we ended up getting married in the month of February and scheduling our Honeymoon in the traditional place of the day -- the frozen Niagara Falls.

Our wedding day produced a lot of nervous energy for everyone; Joan made a lovely bride, no one fainted, a few tears were shed; it was a joyous affair. After the reception, and after a private party at my now in-law's house, Joan and I left in my new blue Volkswagen Beetle, driving to the Mercer Pennsylvania Holiday Inn, halfway to Niagara Falls. We arrived at 9:30pm.

For the occasion, I had with me in the trunk of the VW (which as many of our Dear Readers know, was under the hood since the motor was in the rear), a bottle of Great Western Champagne from upstate New York, center of America's wine industry at the time. In our room, Joan and I shared a glass, wishing for a long and loving life together.

I managed to jam the cork back into the bottle to save some for the next evening, and without thinking about it, I put the bottle on top of the in-room heater. I know that's where I put it because at 3:22 in the morning, we both were awakened by an explosion as the overheated champagne popped the cork, frightening us both.

Tonight, we have another date, this time at Allegrios BYOB Italian Restaurant to celebrate our 45th wedding anniversary. We'll reminisce and talk about our children and grand children. We will drive there in another blue car and sip some Great Western Champagne from upstate New York, and remember how blessed our loving life together has been.

Joe's American Restaurant -- New Boston, Ohio

Last Sunday, Joes American Restaurant in New Boston, Ohio, closed. It was a landmark in this proud little village -- romances flourished and were dissolved there, dance steps were tried and mashed potatoes with gravy, available 24 hours a day.

My 2008 memoir, "On Harrisonville Avenue" contained a short tribute to the American Restaurant. Here is the excerpt on the occasion of this icon's closing; the year is 1955.

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In the mail was my class schedule for the 8th Grade. It showed the classes I would be taking and the teacher for each class. A printed note showed Holidays, Christmas and Easter breaks and non-school days. There were no School Buses because we all walked to school. High School kids with Driver’s Licenses could drive to school or you could bring your bike. There was one bike rack and there was no school parking lot, so you had to park your overflow bike or your car on the street. This produced a battle between the residents of Glenwood Avenue and Glenwood High School for parking.

Nearby, Joe’s American Restaurant had a small parking lot, but everyone knew not to park there because you would get towed.

**

I don’t remember ever meeting "Joe" or hearing anything about him, but his establishment was “the” place for Glenwood Jr. Sr. High students. Since the School had no cafeteria, Joe’s benefited from all those hungry mouths – donuts or toast at breakfast or a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup for lunch or French fires with cheese or gravy and a soda fountain coke after school – all waiting for the energetic, always hungry teenage crowd.

And, there was the Juke Box which could be played from each of the booths or from the main box. It was a Rock-Ola Comet Juke Box with rounded glass columns that you stood between to make your selection. The columns had illuminated glass of various colors and caught your attention with their flashiness. Although there were three record formats – the older 78 rpm, the 45 rpm and the long playing (LP) 33-1/3 which contained multiple cuts and was called an “Album”, like a photo album -- the Rock-Ola only played 45’s; it held 80 of them. You could watch the mechanics of the machine through the large clear cover.

Each week, the Juke Box Company would come by and refresh the machine, taking out older records getting less play and adding new “Hits” by new stars – Pat Boone, The Coasters, Fats Domino, and Perez Prado. Sometimes, new dances would sweep through like the Cha-Cha Cha to “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White.” Most kids, though, danced what was called the “Bop,” which had replaced the Jitter-bug of the 1940’s.

One girl, Tina, always attracted a lot of attention. She was a 7th Grader, a year behind me. Only a few boys would ever dance with her – she was too good. Maybe Dick or Gary, but everyone else shied away from Tina. She didn’t need a partner. She “interpreted” the music with her nimble and elastic body.

Small and slim, Tina often waved her body, like a snake, or would swirl like a skater. Sometimes her hips moved in ways that caused gasping from some and whistles from others. Tina was a free spirit in her dancing and dress and attitude.

But when somebody punched B-6 – “When You Dance” by the Turbans -- and Tina took the floor, the crowd at Joe’s circled around to see what she would do.

It was always a show at Joe’s American Restaurant, across the street from the high school.

**

Cheers !!!

Ron Giles

rdgiles@chesco.com