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The year was 1960, and I was barely 14 and about to graduate into the 8th grade. Beverly Jones was my neighbor, the most beautiful girl in school and I desparately wanted to take her to the prom.
I was a member of a group of 5 geeks who just wanted to raise caine, and girls were not a priority - until Beverly came into my life.
I previously agreed to assist in a prank of running a pair of mens underwear up the school flagpole - but when Beverly asked ME to the dance all of the childish pranks in me vanished.
The knuckleheads I was to cavort with threatened to run the skivvies up the pole in spike of my being with Beverly. To make matters worse, I stole a pair of my dad's underwear for the occasion.
All decked out and with Beverly at the prom the guys began to run the underwear up the pole when the local town cop caught them in the act. They never did implicate me, and I was in love with Beverly.
Her mother's perfume: Chanel Nr. 5 is burned into my memory to this day. We were unable to kiss that night, but worked out a signal that has proven to hold true to this day. As I walked her to her door I grabbed her hand and squeezed it three times signifying I-L-Y (I Love You).
I was drafted and went to Vietnam, she went onto college but I had occasion to see her 28 years later. I hurt my back in a home project and arrived at the medical facility only to meet her again, this time she was Beverly Jones, MD.
As we departed the office she reached out her hand and remembered the sign of 28 years earlier - I L Y. (I Love You).