The year was 1978. I was a new high school graduate and found myself a first-year student at the University of Missouri, Columbia — my father’s alma mater.
Overall I’m an introvert. Given a choice, I would just a soon read a good book as go out to meet new people.
But, at Mizzou, I stepped out of my comfort zone and became involved with other freshmen on my dorm floor in Cramer Hall.
Activities included sports and involvement with the football homecoming parade.
The other way I made friends was Sunday Mass at St. Thomas More Newman Center — the Catholic church just off-campus.
After I settled into campus life, I started attending a prayer group on Wednesday nights. One cold Wednesday evening, I wore my orange and black letterman’s jacket.
Sitting in the prayer circle was a girl my age. Her name was Paula.
Before I go any further, I need to explain. I do not have a good memory for names and faces. As a salesman, I know my customers because I see them regularly. Sometimes when I meet a business owner outside their office — at Walmart or another social event — I can have difficulty remembering their name.
For those I only call on a couple of times a year, my handy cell phone is with my contact list.
Paula looked at me differently that evening. She stared at my jacket with the large “O” on the left front and questioned me. “Dennis, where are you from?”
That was an easy answer — Owensville.
To my astonishment, she jumped up and gave me a big hug. Paula is a hugger.
Then she explained her actions. In 1966 Paula, and her parents, lived in Owensville. That year we were both seven years old and made our first communion at Immaculate Conception Catholic Church (ICC).
This new realization was difficult for me to take in. The next Wednesday, she brought proof to the prayer group — our first communion photo. The girls were in white dresses, and the guys dressed in shirts and ties: Brian Brown, Steve White, Brian Pollock, Crystal Jett, Lisa Feagan, Theresa Copeland, Rhonda Brauks, Mary Beth Gobel, Joyce Lairmore, Paula Ling and myself.
I found a new friend in Columbia, a new friend for life. I had no recollection of Paula before that photo, but my memory of names and faces is not that good.
From 1978 to the late 1990s we remained connected through a retreat called Teens Encounter Christ (TEC).
Paula married and settled in Taos.
Another girl that entered my life during my college tenure was my wife, Connie.
It was 1982, and I was now a senior in the J-School at Columbia. She was a freshman — more commonly referred to now as a first-year student.
Connie asked me out on a date — specifically, a dance her dorm sponsored at the Tiger Hotel in downtown Columbia.
It turns out she also knew me from the church in Owensville, even though Connie is from Cuba. Her uncle Don was in a nursing home south of Owensville. Connie’s mother would bring him to ICC in Owensville, and Connie joined us in the choir loft. Of course, I didn’t remember that.
After that date, we went our separate ways. To put it in salesman’s jargon — I wasn’t sold.
But God had other plans.
Two years later, Connie and I found ourselves as team members on the same retreat with God’s intervention.
To prepare for this retreat, we spent four Sundays together. I was the music leader, and she was a discussion leader.
This time I became sold on the product. The rest, as they say, is history.
Last Friday, Connie and I, along with my parents, traveled to Chamois for a seafood buffet at the Most Pure Heart of Mary Catholic Church. The hall was packed when we arrived a little before six.
We had just sat down to eat a delicious meal of fried catfish, shrimp, and frog legs — plus a sizable number of side dishes and homemade pie — when we noticed Paula sitting at the table, only six seats from us.
After calling her name, she came over and gave us all big bear hugs after-all, Paula is a hugger.
