A Story

You've heard the saying, 'every picture tells a story', right?

Here's the picture, April 23, 1982.

And here's the story.

January of 1981 was beginning of my penultimate semester at Brigham Young University. I was beginning the count down to graduation in August and at the same time wondering what the heck I was going to do once I had diploma in hand. I had no clue and, contrary to my I-must-have-a-plan-in-place nature I wasn't all that concerned about it, I figured something would come along.

This semester found me in a Spanish short story class, Spanish 329 to be exact. Professor Moon was excellent, the class was almost a blow off class for me, I say almost because what university level class is truly ever a blow off? I welcomed the easiness of it amidst the more arduous classes I was having to take. Our class was small, maybe twenty students. Our room was also small, cramped almost. Because of the size of the class, students and room, we all became well acquainted with each other rather quickly. Human nature being what it is, each class member would gravitate to the same seat every time we met. In front of me sat Gary, to the back and right of me sat two guys from Texas. Two guys with Texas attitude. Big Texas attitude. I'd often find myself thinking 'ugh, I could never marry someone from Texas, let alone date them'. 

You know how it is in university classes, if you want to do well you form study groups. Gary and I decided to from a group; guess who became part of our group, yup the two guys from Texas. After a few study sessions my thoughts about the two guys from Texas began to change. No longer did I find their attitude boorish, I found it funny. Texas Guy number one was married and Texas Guy number two was available but I wasn't really interested in anything other than being study companions. So I was rather surprised when Texas Guy Number Two asked me out to lunch after one of our study sessions. I figured I had nothing to lose, I needed to eat lunch and he was offering to buy, trifecta!

My assumption was that we would eat at one of the many eating places on campus, he had other plans. His idea was to go off campus, some place with eating fare other than what most college aged kids eat. Walking to his car I made small talk and asked Texas Guy Number Two what kind of car he drove. A Pontiac Grand Prix, is what he told me. I began to scan the parking lot for a Pontiac Grand Prix, looking for something with lots of wear, some dings, and even a bit of rust, that's what I was used to seeing the college set drive. Imagine my surprise when Texas Guy Number Two stopped at the trunk of one of these.

As a matter of fact, it was just like this, except it had T-tops, a type of convertible, and different wheels. It had all the bells and whistles you can imagine. This was unlike anything I'd ever been in. I was accustomed to cars with more, um character and no bells and the only whistle was the air coming in through the broken window seal. You know how in some Tom Cruise movie he says 'you had me at hello'? Well, Texas Guy Number Two had me at brand new Grand Prix.

As you've probably surmised, Hank was Texas Guy Number Two.

Now, for the after picture to this story,

Hank no longer needs to blow dry his long locks and I'm several pounds heavier. Time has flown by and it has been a wonderful ride these past thirty years, even if the Grand Prix has been long gone.


  1. I never knew this was how yall met! So sweet! And I love the wedding picture :)

  2. Neat stuff... My one and only 'new' car I ever bought was a 1980 Gran Prix. It was A&M maroon and HARD to keep clean, but nice. I learned two lessons from that car. Never buy one new when you can get a nice used car for much less. NEVER own another car that is dark in color.

    1. Actually, mine was also a 1980 Gran Prix. Nice car. Beautiful when clean but so hard to keep that way.

  3. Congratulations on 30 tears with Texan #2! You two made and make a very cute couple.