Chapter 1

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ALPHA and OMEGA

by Jim Stamp on June 06, 2022.

It was a beautiful balmy August evening. Not a cloud in the sky.
A perfect Ohio day. I got to the church a little early, as I like to
do, and the ushers were already asking “Friends of the Bride or
Friends of the Groom?” Then they would seat people accordingly.
The organist played the traditional love songs while the guests
and well wishers filed in. I glanced over at my parents and my
grandparents. They were solemnly waiting and listening to the
organ and the soloist.

Finally, the ushers escorted the Mother of the Bride to a seat in
the front of the church. As soon as she was seated, the organist
seamlessly began the Processional of the Wedding March and
the Bridesmaids did a slip and slide down the aisle. Heads
rotated and followed them as they made their way forward.
When the last bridesmaid was standing at the altar, the organ
started the Bridal Chorus and everyone stood.

The bride emerged from the back of the church and never had
she looked more beautiful – and I had thought she was beautiful
since she was 11. My heart was beating much faster than it
should have I suppose. When she reached the front of the church
and was standing in front of the minister, he said, “you may all
be seated”. Meaning the guests of course. And it began! I
looked at the Minister, the organist, the white chrysanthemums,
the Bride-to-be and I looked again at my parents and grand-
parents. The ceremony started. When the Minister got to the
part, “if anyone can show just cause why this couple may not
be lawfully joined in Holy Matrimony, let them speak now or
forever hold their peace”, I felt like I had been hit in the chest
with a sledgehammer. I couldn’t breathe! I needed air. I left
the church, got outside and stood with my hands on my knees
and gulped air. When my heart slowed down a bit and I started
breathing somewhat normally, I got in my car and left…
*********************************
    She was only 11 when I developed a mountain sized crush on
her and I didn’t know how to deal with it. So, there it was, like
the elephant in the room. Then she turned 12 and I was one year
more. One day she looked at me and smiled like she was reading
my mind. I don’t know where the words come from, but I felt
compelled to tell that girl that I loved her and she said, “I love
you too”. For me, it was a FOREVER kind of thing. It wasn’t
some playground romance, a fleeting infatuation, or some puppy
love deal. (I actually never understood that term because there
probably isn’t any love greater than a dog for its people –
nothing will ever stop the love of a dog) We went to Sunday
School together. We went to MYF (Methodist Youth Fellowship)
together and we sang in the choir – at school and at Church.

    12 years old

    Almost 13

In April of 1956, The Choir director at church, Mrs Dusenberry,
selected four of us to sing in |a quartet for a church program.
Paula Waithman, Kathy Ward, Carolyn Votaw and me. One night
after practice, Polly asked me if I liked Kathy. I told her I liked
everybody. She said “NO. Not like that. “Do you like Kathy for
a girlfriend?” I responded, “NO. I love Carolyn.”

After that “public” announcement, my Mom would drive me to
Carolyn’s house to pick her up for MYF and we would sit in the
back seat holding hands. I called her every night, usually around
7 PM. At school we made book covers out of brown paper sacks to
protect the books. I wrote “Carolyn” on all my book covers in
every script I could imagine and create. I have always had an
interest in “letters” that continues today. (See Chapter on Calligraphy – 40)

    During class, I became a clock watcher and as the end of the
period got down to the final seconds, I would gather up my
papers and close my books. As soon as the bell started to ring…
on the first part of the “R”, I was out the door so I could get to
Carolyn’s class and walk with her to her next class and then
manage to slide into my own class as the bell was ringing.
Carolyn was arguably the most popular girl in her class. She
was smart (Valedictorian), talented, head majorette, etal. Me,
I was about as average as you could get. I played a mediocre
trumpet in the band, I was not an athlete, I never wrote a song,
penned a poem, or wrote a book. Didn’t have my own TV show
or nothing! But we were together all the time… At least till the
spring of my 17th year.

    Junior Prom – 1959

I had called Carolyn on Tuesday night and we told each other
over and over that we loved each other. As long as we both
should live. Till the end of time. As long as there’s a snow
flake left to fall. I think everyone believed we would get
married one day and it would be forever, just like our Grand-
parents. But, on Wednesday morning as I was charging out
the classroom door as always, I got about 15 feet into the hallway
and my progress was terminated by Carolyn’s BFF (I’ll call her
Triple M)… She said, “I have a message from Carolyn.” Immed-
iately, my mind jumped to a conclusion that she was sick or she
had an accident. Neither was the case! But, between Tuesday
night and Wednesday morning, something had drastically changed.

There were only a couple of times that I didn’t call Carolyn at
night. Christmas 1955, my Mom and Dad had decided that we
would go to Florida for Christmas and visit their dear friends,
Bill and Betty White in Fort Lauderdale. I didn’t call. Carolyn
and her family went to the East Coast on vacation and I didn’t
call. But, she sent me postcards and told me that she had
discovered potato soup and ordered it so much that her Dad
was calling her the Potato Soup Kid.

We went West to Cheyenne, Wyoming to see the rodeo
(Frontier Days) and then thru the Rockies and on to Denver
to visit cousins. I didn’t call. I was in a coma for about 9
days after my pony and I got hit by a car – I didn’t call. Then
in my Junior year, I was the District representative to the
National FFA convention in Kansas City, Mo – I didn’t call.
Those were about the only times that I didn’t call in 4 and a
half years!

Memories??? One of my fondest memories was the 1959
Columbiana County Fair. I was on the Junior Fair Board. My
duties were to make sure there was always someone in the
pony barns, serve on the committee for the Square Dance that
we had at Guilford Grange, and to get a convertible for the 4-H
parades on Monday to carry the 4-H queen. One parade at noon
and one in the evening. Normally, we went to local car dealers
and they provided the convertible (and driver) in exchange for
putting their sign on the door to advertise. Doesn’t hurt to advertise!

The last Sunday in June was our Humphrey Reunion (my
Grandma Andre was a Humphrey). Leroy and Sis Baker (Leroy
was my Mom’s first cousin) drove in, in a brand new 1959 Red
Chevy Impala Convertible. They had just picked it up that week.
It was AWESOME. I had never seen anything like it. I got the
bright idea that instead of getting a convertible from a dealer,
Leroy could drive his new car in the parade. The convertible
would haul the reigning 4-H queen, Pat Denny, right behind the
band. The love of my life was the head majorette, leading the
band! I asked Leroy if he would drive his car in the parade for
the queen. He said, “NO….. But, you can”. I couldn’t believe it.
I asked, “Really! Are you sure?” He was sure so I told him he
would need to get it to the Fair Grounds by 11AM so we could
start lining up the parade. He said, “No. You come over to the
farm and get it and then bring it back when you’re done.” He
was trusting a 16 year old with his brand new car! I was a
nervous wreck all day. I guarded that car like my life depended
on it. I didn’t want even a finger print on that car!

But, not only did Leroy trust me with his car, Mrs. Votaw trusted
me with something even more precious than the car – her
daughter. It was not just a perfect August night, but with the love
of my life sitting next to me, top down, music on – it was an
exceptionally perfect night. I didn’t betray the trust of either
Leroy or Mrs. Votaw. I returned the car and the girl without a scratch!
    *************************************

By the time Triple M had started her message, there was an
audience of at least a dozen kids behind me, also curious about
what might have happened. But the message had nothing to
do with illness or an accident. There were more words… she
followed by telling me that I was “incredibly boring”, and then
she said, CAROLYN NEVER WANTS TO SEE YOU OR TALK
TO YOU AGAIN. She didn’t even come to say “Goodbye”.
Like we had been living a big lie.

Right then, in a nano second, without warning, she ripped my
heart out of my chest. She crushed my ego. Shattered my self
esteem. I just stood there, speechless. The new Poster boy for
Total Rejection. The only reason I had for being in school was
that 1) I liked school, and 2) because I couldn’t stand to be away
from Carolyn. I had 18 and a half credits at the end of my Junior
year (we needed 16 to graduate) Now, it was time for me to go!
    **************************************
I was born at a very early age. Our first house was in the village
of Winona, Ohio, on the hill, west of the intersection. Winona
was a small town that had three churches ( Wilbur Friends –
Quaker, Gurney Friends, and Methodist) and everyone knew
everyone. It was like a HUGE family. I was surrounded by
loving people at home and in the church. I had fantastic parents.
I had terrific Grandparents and Great-Grandparents. Our house
was a large white clapboard two story house. Third house west
of the General Store on Winona Rd from the intersection at
Whinnery Rd. When I was two my brother Lee was born. Mom
had to carry Lee up and down the steps so I had to learn to come
down the steps backwards on my stomach. It was so much fun
that I would crawl back up the steps so I could come back down
again. Like a Slinky. Loved it then, but probably wouldn’t be so
much fun now!

My Great Grandma Andre and Aunt Ethel lived in the next house
to the west. When I was almost three my Mom would let me walk
thru the backyard, by myself, under the big apple tree, to Great
Grandma’s house. Grandma kept a jar of water in the ice box and
I loved to drink that cold water. I was always “Jimmy” unless
Grandma thought I needed correction, then I was JAMES ALLEN!

My Grandpa and Grandma Andre lived on a farm south of
Winona. My Grandpa and Grandma and Great Grandpa Stamp
lived on a farm north of Winona on Route 9.

We all went to the Methodist Church in Winona. It wasn’t
unusual for family and friends to go home after church and get
dinner out of the oven and then gather back at the church or at
someone’s house to have a covered dish dinner. A community
of friendship and love. The church and the Grange were like
second homes…after relatives!

My Aunt Ellen, Second Lieutenant, was a RN and an Army medic
in WWII. On my first Christmas, I was less than 2 months old,
Aunt Ellen gave me a teddy bear. Do I keep things? I confess. I
am a natural hoarder! (In my defense, it is hereditary) 69 years
later, I gave that Teddy Bear to my daughter, Heather, when her
son Alex was two months old.

Uncle Bill (Grandpa and Grandma’s only son) joined the Army
and was almost immediately shipped to France. He was killed
January 18, 1945 at Reipertswiller, France. He was reported as
missing to Grandpa and Grandma. October 30, 1946, Mom, Lee
and I got in the car with Grandpa and Grandma to head to Aunt
Mary’s house in Leetonia.

We got to the top of the Woodsdale Hill and Grandpa stopped the
car, got out, walked around the front of the car and clutched his
chest. I was almost 4 but I have never forgotten that day.
Grandpa got back in the car and we proceeded to Leetonia. That
afternoon, two guys from the Army knocked on the door to
confirm that Uncle Bill’s body had been identified and he in fact
had been killed in France. Grandpa had a massive heart attack and was gone.

Mom and Dad worked out a deal with Grandma that included her
taking our house in Winona and with a contract of additional
consideration we moved to the farm. We milked cows, we had
pigs, we had chickens and a dog. When we first moved to the
farm, we didn’t have a tractor so Dad borrowed Mr. Hawthorne’s
Belgian horses to plow. I got to sit on the horses and hold on! A
few years later, Dad bought us a pony. Eventually we had more
than 20 ponies. What more could a kid want? NOTHING. I got
to bale hay with my Dad and my Grandpa. I got to help Grandpa
combine. We bailed straw. Picked corn. Combined oats and
wheat. A perfect life! I probably had as perfect a childhood as
anyone could dream.

Kids from Winona would walk out to the farm (or, ride their
bikes) and we played in the haymow or we would go to the
woods. We could spend the entire day in the woods playing
cowboys and Indians. We climbed on fallen trees and made forts
out of branches. We ran, hid, and had a great time. No one ever
broke a bone or even sprained an ankle climbing over the trees,
jumping across the creek, or chasing one another. Just FUN! We
all had cap guns but we knew you didn’t point a gun at a person
so we manufactured make believe targets in our minds. When we
grew up, after playing with guns no one ever killed anyone or
even shot at another person!

When I was 5 I started the first grade at the Quaker School in
Winona. I loved school. We had first, second and third grade at
the Quaker School. There was a huge coal/woodburning furnace
in one corner. In the fall, we were each to bring a vegetable to
school and the teacher would make vegetable soup and cook it
on the furnace. We had recess after bathroom break. Bathroom
break was up the hill in the old outhouse on the west side of the
fence around the Quaker cemetery. I remember how steep that
incline seemed when we were 5 and 6. Especially when it rained
or snowed. Today, it doesn’t look nearly as steep as I thought it
was many years ago! When I was 8 I started fourth grade at the
new United Local School.

My Dad started his long service on the School Board when I was
about 6 and he would go on to serve on the United Local and the
Columbiana County School Boards for the next 56 years. When I
was 12 years old, I noticed the love of my life, (she was 11) – she
just didn’t know it yet. I waited until I was a more mature (?) 13
and she was 12 to say anything. Then one day she looked at me
like she could read my mind and I actually told her then that I
loved her and she said, “I love you too!” My first crush. My first
kiss. My first love.

Dad’s company was bought out by a company from Pittsburgh.
Rather than abandon our extended family and make us change
schools, he commuted by train every day to Pittsburgh from
Salem. One evening, after I milked the cows I decided to ride my
pony before dinner. Beauty (my first pony) only had one colt
(Cricket) but she tried to adopt every other pony’s colt. That
night, we had a new colt and Beauty was not anxious to leave
the pasture. I took her over to the field of clover across the road.
On the way back, she decided she was going straight to the barn.
I noticed a car heading north on Whinnery Road and coming fast.
Beauty did not respond to the bit and kept on going. The car
collided with us on the road and I went about 20 feet thru the air.
The vet didn’t find any broken bones on Beauty but he had to use
wire to make stitches. I ended up in the hospital in a coma for
about 7 days. Fractured Skull. Multiple concussions. Torsion of
the brain stem. I was transferred from Salem to Youngstown
North Side. My Neurologist was Dr. Leonard Bernstein. During
my time at North Side, my family became friends with the
Bernsteins and we visited them at their home in Mill Creek Park
and they visited us on the farm.

One Saturday afternoon, we were bailing hay (Grandpa, Dad,
Lee, Jay, and me) and we were taking a lunch break. My Mom
set up a picnic in the yard because we were all hot and covered
in hay dust. We looked up and a Cadillac El Dorado convertible
pulled in the drive. Mrs. Bernstein was driving. Dr. Bernstein
was in the back seat holding a goat. Lulabelle!

Dr Bernstein’s kids had given him Lulabelle for Father’s Day.
They didn’t consider that a goat in Mill Creek Park was not going
to be a hit with the neighbors and the bigger problem was what
would they do with Lulabelle when winter came!

The solution seemed easy. Give Lulabelle to the Stamps. She was
so cute! They didn’t call ahead because we might have said “No
Thanks!” but hey, if they just happened to show up, how could
we say no?? Lulabelle rode in the back seat of the convertible
with Dr. Bernstein for about 27 miles and was a very good girl.
Lulabelle became a fixture on our farm for many years.
    **********************************
In the spring of my 17th year, my life took a huge unexpected
turn. The love of my life sent a message, delivered by her best
girl friend “…NEVER WANTS TO SEE YOU OR TALK TO YOU
AGAIN”. That evening at home I pulled out a newspaper that I
had seen several days before. There was an ad for a vocational
school in Kansas City, Mo. that caught my eye because I had
been to Kansas City for the FFA Convention. I showed it to my
Dad and said I wanted to go there. So, arrangements were made
and off I went. It seemed to me that by moving 812 miles away,
Carolyn wouldn’t have to worry about seeing me or talking to
me. I was going to the Railroad Communications School.

In Kansas City, I met Mike Grimm who would become my best
friend (and future Best Man at my wedding). We were both 17.
In high school we were both smitten by girls named Carolyn.
And then…we were both told to hit the road by a Carolyn. 17 was
not a good age to look for a job in Missouri – to get real jobs you
had to be 18. But, eventually we both found employment at the
Kansas City Public Library. It was awesome! I almost decided
on a career in Library Science. Mike and I had an apartment
together to share costs. We both went to night school to learn
how to run a railroad depot, learn how to send and receive
telegraph, and use the teletype. There were more stories
attached to my Kansas City experience…but, they’re not relevant for this.

About 4 ½ months after receiving the “MESSAGE” the phone
rang. It was Carolyn. She said, “I want you to come home. I need
you to be here with me.” She was crying and kept saying it over
and over. She said her Daddy was sick. I had never wanted to do
anything more than go to her…but, I had a lease, I had a job, and
I was going to school. So, I did the next best thing; I called her 3
times a week. Long Distance! I had to make an adjustment in
my budget to afford the long distance fees.

I couldn’t change the lease payments so the only place I could
look to was my food budget. Everyday, I took bologna, cheese,
and lettuce with yellow mustard sandwiches to work. I found
that by eliminating the bologna, the cheese and the lettuce I
could afford to make the phone calls. I really liked the bread,
butter and mustard sandwiches!. (Later, I would introduce my
kids to Mustard bread {different than just the bread, butter and
mustard} and we had that almost every Sunday night.) I never
asked Carolyn how she got my phone number because it didn’t
seem important. The only thing that was important was that I
was telling her again that I loved her and missed her – over
and over. And she said, I love you, too!!!

Mike got a letter from his Carolyn and she was begging him to
come home and get married. (We were 17!) So, Mike and I went
to the school superintendent to see if there was any way to finish
early. He said if we could pass the final test, we could finish. We
did and finished 3 months early. The superintendent called me
in and asked if I knew where Brewster, Ohio was. I said yes. He
said the Nickel Plate Railroad had a job opening for a
telegrapher. I called Carolyn on Wednesday night to tell her we
were leaving Thursday morning and heading for Ohio. Mike and
I got in his car and headed Northeast. We got to Winona about
3AM. We fell asleep on the floor in Mom and Dad’s living room.
In the morning, Mike headed for Martinsburg, WVa and I
borrowed Mom’s car and headed to Brewster, Ohio. The Nickel
Plate interview was great, except they had filled the job on Monday.
So, I didn’t get that job, but, the Dispatcher told me he had two
openings in Muncie, Ind. I didn’t care about Muncie, Ind. What
I cared about was that I would get home from the interview at
the same time that Carolyn got off the bus.

I called Carolyn and when she answered, I announced, “I’m
home!” She said, “I don’t want to see you or talk to you” and
hung up! I think the train just hit me, and again, I didn’t even
see it coming!

Saturday morning, Mike called with two questions in mind. One,
how was the job interview? I told him it was a great interview
but the job in Brewster was filled. However they had two
openings in Muncie. Two, how did my meeting with Carolyn
go? I told him! He said that he got the same reception when
he got home. Should we go to Muncie? I said “yes” so he said
he would pick me up on Monday.

I spent the weekend seeing Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles, and
spending time with my Mom, Dad, brothers and sister. Mike
arrived about 1PM and we headed west to Muncie. By the time
we got to Muncie it was dark but we were able to find the Nickle
Plate Depot. We met P.J. Bredwell! What a character he was! He
looked like Wallace Berry (from Treasure Island), could carry on
a conversation, play his ukulele, sing and take telegraph at the
same time. We were really, really impressed with P.J.

Tuesday morning we filled out the application forms and went to
take our physicals. That was when I learned the underwear
theory. The application asked if you had ever been in the
hospital. I answered: when I was 5 I had my tonsils out and
when I was 14 I had a fractured skull, multiple concussions,
torsion of the brain stem, and was in a coma for a week after
getting hit by a car. I didn’t even need to take the physical.
The doctor said they could NOT hire someone who had had a
closed head injury to work with trains.

Mike was given the physical. In high school, Mike had been an
athlete and was in good shape. (He never could keep up with
push-ups though – I could do 400 to 500) The doctor told Mike
that he didn’t pass. Mike became very negative, almost
depressed – a result of Carolyn’s rejection and now the railroad
rejection so Mike said, “I’m just going to join the Army” The
doctor said, “Sorry Son. They won’t take you either” No explanation.

Mike and I got in the car and headed for Chicago. From there we
were directed to the CB&Q Dispatcher in Aurora. We had great
interviews there and filled out the applications. Now, if I had
holes in my underwear, that might be the truth, but it wasn’t
something that I was going to tell anyone about. Just because
something is true, you don’t have to vomit all over people
covering them with all your stinking truth! This time I answered
the question about being in the hospital by saying, Yes! when I
was 5 I had my tonsils out. End of story. We both got hired.
Mike would last about 7 months in Illinois before he was
contacted once again by Carolyn who begged him to come home
and get married. He went. They got married.

I worked on the CB&Q “extra board” for almost 20 months. The
“extra board” meant I got to work on the Galesburg line and on
the Savanna line – often 7 days a week. In my 20 months with
the CB&Q I worked in 32 towns. It was perfect. I didn’t have to
get to know a lot of people who would want to know my back
story. I slept in the back seat of my car, in depots, in railroad
cars, in the round house bunk house, and once in a while I stayed
in a boarding room. I worked in Aurora, East Eola, Cicero,
Berwyn, Lee, Shabbona, Mendota, Barstow, Rock Island,
Galina Junction, Moline, Peoria, Princeton, Zearing, Kewanee,
Savannah, etal. My first assignment was in Lee, Illinois. Joe
Rambo was the station master and was going on vacation (that
meant home) Joe was 76 and still working. He showed me
around the depot and asked me where I was staying. I really
hadn’t even thought about that. He said, “Why don’t you stay
with me and my wife?” I said “OKAY”. Joe and Eva Rambo
were like surrogate grandparents. I mowed the grass and did
any odd jobs that needed done. Most weekends when I wasn’t
working in another town, I would return to Lee, Illinois and
stay with the Rambos. When there was nowhere to go job wise
and I was near the top of the union scale, I decided I need to go back to school.

In the fall of 1962, I returned to Winona and enrolled at Mount
Union College. Then I got a job that would let me work around
my school schedule. At the time, my Dad was the Chief Engineer
where I got hired – I’m sure that helped. I racked steel, cut
pieces for fabrication, and drove the truck. Then I got a
paycheck. I went into Salem to deposit my check and as I was
walking back to my car, someone yelled my name. It was
Carolyn’s BFF from high school, Triple M. I stopped and she
ran across the street. It had been just short of two and a half
years since I was told “Carolyn never wants to see you or talk
to you again” Right away she asked me “Does Carolyn know
you’re home?” I looked at her in total amazement. Disbelief!
I said, “I haven’t seen her for 2 ½ years so why would she
know if I’m home??? I don’t even know where she is. I don’t
know who she is with. I don’t know what she is doing? And
why would she care?” Then I went back to work. I probably
could have been nicer.

After supper that evening, the phone rang. Mom said, “It’s
for you!” I picked up the phone and on the other end of the line
was Carolyn! My heart started racing all over again. The same
effect she always had on me, like an addictive drug in my veins.
Like a popular song of the time – “Like a Rubber Ball…” She was
her bouncy, happy, positive self. She asked what I was doing
and all the normal stuff. Then she said, “I was wondering if
you could help my Mom?” I had spent a lot of time at their
house and always loved her Mom and now she was a single
Mom with 3 kids, a farm to work, cows to milk and a house
to maintain. So, I said “SURE. When?” “Can you come now?”
“SURE” And, so I went. I didn’t know if I was to go to the
barn or what I was doing so I stopped at the house and walked
in like I knew what I was doing. Carolyn’s Mom was still at
the barn but standing there in front of me was Carolyn – after
almost 2 ½ years – she was still the most beautiful sight I had
ever seen. She had cut her hair in a pixie that would later be
called a Dorothy Hamill and it looked terrific. My heart
started turning somersaults in my chest. I stated the obvious –
“I’m here!”

Standing there in the kitchen I asked if I should go to the barn.
She answered, “No” I said I thought I was here to help your
Mom. She said, “Well, on Sunday, I need a ride back to school.
Can you take me?” Almost falling over my tongue, I said, “OH.
Yeah!” I was so nervous I didn’t even ask where school was.
Could have been Columbus. Could have been Pittsburgh. Or
Toledo. I didn’t even ask. We talked. We were together on
Saturday and Sunday. Sunday night I took her back to school
at Trumbull Memorial Nursing School in Warren, OH. Then
she asked if I could pick her up on Friday and bring her home.
Absolutely! The next eight months were unbelievable. We
visited parents, grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, cousins and
friends. By Christmas we were stopping at Daniel Smith’s
Jewelry in Salem to look at rings.

I had never been happier in my life. I counted the seconds until
Fridays. And then came Springtime. By this time, late April,
1963, I was working as a draftsman (under my Dad’s direction)
and was in the office instead of the fabricating shop. I was
sitting at my drafting table detailing the parts for the boat
trailer catalog. On my left was a big window facing west
towards Damascus and Alliance. I happened to look out the
window and saw a huge black cloud that appeared to be growing
from the ground towards the sky, consuming the daylight.
(Obviously an optical illusion) But the daylight appeared to be
devoured by this rolling black cloud. Day was turning to night
with the speed of dark! The clouds were rolling in and driving
the wind with a vengeance. Trees were bending. Telephone
lines were dancing and whipping. Anything not secured was
blowing across the landscape like tumble weeds across Texas.
We queued up at the time clock and could hear the wind
rattling the metal roof in the shop. By the time I got to my
car, it was totally black and the rain started pelting and pounding.

The rain was blinding but I was sure that I could make my way to
Warren with my eyes closed. The sky was totally black except for
a frequent slice of lightning through the darkness. The
headlights reflected the raindrops like a million tiny mirrors.
The rain was hitting the windshield like hurricane driven waves
against a break wall. There was zero visibility. But I made it as
I was sure I would. A storm was not going to keep me from going
to Warren!

I found a parking space in front of the Nurses dorm. The winds
had stopped and the rain was falling straight down. By that time
the rain was what the old farmers would call a “soaker”. I ran up
the sidewalk and knocked on the door. A young lady answered
the door and asked if she could help me. I said, I’m here to pick
up Carolyn. She said, “Wait here” A few minutes later she came
back to the door and said, “Carolyn isn’t going home this
weekend.” When I asked her if Carolyn was okay, she said,
“Carolyn said to tell you she NEVER wants to see you or talk
to you again!” SAY WHAT?? It couldn’t be happening again.
How could we LOVE each other on Sunday and come to this
on Friday?? And, she couldn’t come to say “Goodbye”?? It
had been another big lie? I had never cheated on her! I had
never lied to her! She was the only girl in my life since I was
12! This time the devastation was almost complete! I turned
towards the street and started down the sidewalk. I went
into shock. My legs turned to jello and I felt lightheaded and
nauseous. I collapsed on the sidewalk and got totally soaked.
I don’t remember getting up. I don’t remember getting to my
car or driving home. I imagined that she and her friends were
watching at the window and getting a good laugh. I could
not function. I had to quit my job. I dropped out of school.
I didn’t leave the house for almost 2 months.

In August of the following year, on a balmy summer night…
I went to her wedding to get closure. It never happened!

NEW BEGINNINGS…
Carolyn was married! Two months after the wedding, I met
Margaret at Mount Union. Margaret was arguably the most
recognizable girl on campus and almost every guy that wasn’t
committed or pinned was asking her out. But I had the some-
thing that they didn’t – a red Corvair Monza Convertible.
She was walking up the street towards campus and I asked
her if she wanted a ride. She hopped in and we stopped at
the Campus Student Union and had a vanilla coke. During
the conversation she said she hated the cafeteria food and
she and her friend Norma walked to the Burger Queen every
night to eat. I asked her if she would like to come home with
me for a home cooked meal. Her answer was “YES”. Sunday,
my family would be celebrating October birthdays and in
addition to my family, my Grandparents (both October
birthdays) would be there, Uncle Bob and Aunt Mary Jane would be there.

    I told her that we would be going to church first and she had
    no objection.

Sunday morning Margaret and I headed for Winona by cutting
across Damascus from Rte 62, crossover Georgetown Rd, and
then taking Tower Road to Route 9, then to Whinnery Rd.
Tower Road is not only curvy and hilly, but, Whinnery Road
going into Winona is a steep decline and then south of the
intersection there are a couple of abrupt dips and hills.
Margaret had no idea who I was and was getting concerned
about where I was taking her. I think kidnapping crossed her
mind. At the top of the hill before Dad’s farm, she said you
had better stop this car or I’m going to throw up. I told her I
would stop at the next drive which was the final destination
anyhow. Mom and Dad’s farm!

We got out of the car and walked down to the pasture. The ponies
were out grazing and several of them trotted up to the fence for
some love. By that time, Mom and Dad were ready to go to
church so we followed them. When we walked into the church,
all heads turned to see who the blonde was. After church, it was
like bees coming to the honey.

When we got home, Margaret was treated to my Dad, my
Grandpa, and Uncle Bob. Maybe the greatest men I ever knew.
After dinner, the men went into the living room while the
women cleaned up. Margaret was helping with the dishes
and my Mom asked her how long we had been dating.
Margaret said that if this could be considered a date, it would
be the first one. “OH! “

Margaret came from a somewhat dysfunctional family. Both of
her parents were immigrants. Her maternal Grandpa (Scotland)
and Grandma (England) were immigrants who tolerated each
other. Grandma actually hated Grandpa for bringing her to
America. She really hated it here being separated from her
family in England. Margaret’s Mom was born in England.

Margaret had 3 uncles who barely spoke to one another. There
were no family get togethers. The only person who tried to get
along with everyone was Margaret. Her paternal Grandparents
came from Hungary where her Dad was born–Budapest. Her
Dad’s parents both died from heart problems at 48 and 56. So,
in addition to my car, she was very attracted to my family. I was
a distant third! I had two brothers and a sister. Margaret was an
only child.

    June 19, 1966

Two years later, Margaret and I got married. She had an
incredible talent for remembering names. Except for mine.
At school she would introduce me to her friends as “Bob” and
then she would apologize because she couldn’t remember my
last name. But, she worked at a bank as a teller and everyone
would line up at her window because she called them by name.
??? One day the President of the bank stopped at her branch to
meet her because they got so many great reports about Margaret
and how she treated the customers.

We had three beautiful kids: Shawn, Heather, and Eric. Margaret
and I taught Junior Hi Sunday School together, she was very
involved with the MYF and Junior Choir. She was the Director
of Church Musicals with the kids. I coached T-Ball, Little League
and Girls Softball. I had never been much of a ball player so I had
to go to the Library to find out the rules of the game(s).

Margaret would become the training supervisor for Viking
Sewing Machines. She had to work most Fridays until close.
Anytime during the week if they had big cash sales, (Viking
Sewing machines could cost $11,000)…she would call me and
I would take our White German Shepherd, Kobi, and a pistol,
and meet her at the door to accompany Margaret to the bank
to make the deposit.

    Shawn was Valedictorian of his Class at Norton. During his
High School years he took courses at the University of Akron.
Then he spent one summer at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio
(established 1809). Margaret and I were happy when Shawn
chose Mount Union because of legacy. Shawn had enough credits
entering Mount Union that he could have graduated in 3 years
with a degree in Computer Science. To the dismay of Music
majors, Shawn was the accompanist for the Mount Union
Symphony Choir. Also, he had been elected President of the
Student Senate for his Senior year. He had to take at least one
course to stay enrolled so he did that and then worked for B&W
in Alliance. Shawn was Valedicrotian for his class. After
graduation from Mount Union Shawn went to North Carolina for
his first Masters Degree.

Heather also chose Mount Union. Heather had also taken
advanced college courses and was Valedictorian of her class at
Norton. Heather’s major at Mount Union was Spanish and
education. She was accepted in her Junior year at Mount Union
to go to the University of Madrid. Not only was Heather Home
coming Queen at Norton, but she was chosen Homecoming
Queen at Mount Union.

Eric was a surprise! He hated following his brother and sister
with the same teachers through grade school, middle school
and high school. The teachers were always comparing. Eric
had a photographic memory and had read the entire Bible when
he was 7. Since he hated following his brother and sister in
classes at Norton, he surprised us when he also decided to go
to Mount Union. Eric went thru Mount Union without
attending most classes – the professors asked him to NOT
attend because he was too disruptive. Eric read constantly
and eventually had 700 books in his library. Professors had
a tendency to put their own interpretation on history and
political events. Eric constantly challenged them, armed
with facts. Consequently, they told him to just come to the
office to pick up assignments and take his tests.

In January 1985, we all headed to Washington DC for the
inaguration of President Ronald W. Reagan. We sat behind Tom
Selleck and other Hollywood luminaries. We stayed in the same
hotel as Donna Summer, Lou Rawls, Merv Griffin and Zsa Zsa
Gabor, Elizabeth Taylor. Denver Pyle (Jesse in Dukes of Hazzard)
saw our kids in tuxedo’s and Heather in a long dress and came
over to talk to them and offered to stand with them for a picture.
It was a great, great time.

Almost every Friday night, I met our son, Eric, at the local Italian
Restaurant, Cristos. Eric loved to talk politics and would look for
a debate. We were always on the same page so there was more
discussion than debate between us. ON Wednesday night,
Margaret and I met Eric at Max & Irmas for dinner. He had
had a very stressful day – he had to fire 34 people. One of the
people that he fired was a black kid that Eric had promoted to
Supervisor. Eric had told the kid that he wasn’t qualified but
he had potential and Eric would train him. However, the kid
decided that armed with a title, he could just show up when he
wanted…so, he got fired. Then he threatened Eric!

When we finished dinner at Max & Erma’s, Eric asked, “are
we on for Friday at Cristos?” I said absolutely, I’ll get a table.
Eric was a person who was never late and had a low tolerance
for people who were late. Time is one thing you can’t ever get
back! Friday night, Eric was very, very late. I tried to call him
and got no answer. I called Margaret to see if she had heard
from him. I got a very uneasy feeling, primarily because of the
threat that he had received. Margaret and I didn’t sleep well
that night. Saturday morning I went to my office. The phone
rang and it was one of Eric’s supervisors, Mike. Mike asked
how he could get in touch with Eric because they had a problem
that Eric would need to handle. I said I was not getting an
answer and Mike told me Eric did not show up for work on Friday.

I got in my car and drove to Eric’s apartment. His Jeep was there
and I could hear music playing through the door. But there was
no answer when I knocked on the door. I went to the condo
management office and asked for a key to Eric’s apartment. They
told me they couldn’t do that without the police present. I said,
Call the police! About 15 minutes later the Copley Police showed
up and told me to wait outside. They were gone a few minutes.
When they came out, they told me that Eric was gone! As in
deceased! Gone??? I was not allowed to go in. I walked in circles
outside disoriented, and then I called Shawn and Heather to tell
them about their brother but implored them to not call their
mother. I did not want Margaret to hear of this tragedy in our
lives on the phone. Telling Margaret when I got home was the
hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Within the hour, Shawn and
Heather were there and we all went to the funeral home. We
had never expected this kind of family get together. Eric had
died of a heart attack resulting from the flu.

The funeral home set up two times for visitation. The evening
visitation was from 5 till 8PM. The people were lined up so long
that we didn’t get through until 10:30PM. A black girl who had
worked for Eric told me that she dearly loved Eric because he was
the first person that told her she didn’t have to settle for
minimum wage and with his training she was making more
than $40,000. Mark, who had worked for Eric in Huntington,
WVa, was there. Mark had a wife and 2 kids and I knew there
was no room in his budget for traveling. I told Mark that he
didn’t have to make the trip to Norton and he said, with tears
flowing down his cheeks, that he would have been here if he
had to crawl on his hands and knees. That was all it took to
break any semblance of composure for me. Another young
man told me that when he interviewed with Eric it was the
first time that anyone had ever asked him if he had read Lewis
Carroll’s Alice In Wonderland. Eric was looking for a training
supervisor and said that if he didn’t understand Alice in
Wonderland, he probably wouldn’t succeed. The part that Eric
was referring to something I had taught him a few years earlier.
When Alice got to the fork in the road and looked up one road
and then the other, she finally said out loud, “Which road
should I take?” The Cheshire Cat asked her where she wanted
to go. Alice said she really didn’t know and the Cat replied,
then it really doesn’t matter which road you take. It was the
perfect statement about setting goals and having a plan.

Mrs. Wilson had Shawn, Heather and Eric in kindergarten.
After Eric went to first grade, Mrs. Wilson asked who was next.
WE said Eric was the last! She brought out 3 manilla folders
at the calling hours – one for each of our kids. She had followed
all three of them through high school and college. I don’t know
if she did that for every kid she ever had in school, but,
Margaret and I were overwhelmed by the gesture.

The next morning we headed to the Winona Methodist Church
where our cousin, Rev Jim Humphrey did the funeral service
for Eric and then we went to Woodsdale Cemetery for our final
goodbye! Shawn played “Footprints in the Sand” and Jim
Humphrey sang “Footprints in the Sand” – and, they hadn’t
had time to rehearse. It was ABSOLUTELY beautiful.

Two weeks later, my office burned from an electrical problem.
Eric was an accomplished artist and I had moved a lot of his
pictures and art supplies to my office…everything was lost!

Margaret never recovered from that experience and it impacted
her health. Five years later, she spent 21 days in ICU – 11 days at
Akron General and then they life flighted her to Cleveland, 10
days in the ICU at Cleveland Clinic. I was with her until 10:30PM
on Saturday night and she said, you need to go take care of Gabi
– her White German Shepherd. She was showing improvement
and on Sunday she was to be transferred out of ICU for therapy.
At 1:30AM, the phone rang and it was a doctor from the Clinic. So Sorry!

What Now?? I waited until morning to call Shawn and Heather
because there was nothing we could do at 1:30AM. When I called
them we decided to meet at Bob Evan’s in Wadsworth to decide
the next step. Once again, I had to call on cousin Rev Jim
Humphrey and on July 25, 2013 once again we headed to the
Winona Methodist Church for a funeral and Woodsdale where
Margaret would rest next to Eric. At the funeral service, our
daughter Heather said she was sure that Eric was waiting in
Heaven with open arms to greet his Mother. On both of these
occasions, I was useless. Shawn played the piano. My Dad and
my brother Lee were angels in our lives and made the
arrangements at the church and the cemetery. Heather tearfully
gave a testimony to her Mother. Friends and co-workers (one
drove from New York) wanted to remember her…

After the losses in my life, I chose solitude. I found my therapy
in a social media called Facebook. I set up and posted to groups
that included the Family of Levi Marshall and Ruth Hawkins
Stamp; Descendants of Robert and Ann Preble Hawkins; Winona,
Ohio Est 1869; Guilford; Hanoverton; Kensington; Summit
County Ohio Republican Party; FLOTUS Melania; POTUS and
First Family; and United Local High School. These are open
groups so anyone can join.

However, I can’t add someone to the groups unless they are a
friend. (that is so I can’t add someone who isn’t interested)
United Local High School, for example, I have hundreds of
“friends” that I don’t know but I accept them if their profile
on Facebook says they went to UHS so I can invite them to the
group. When people ask to “friend” me, I always check their
profile. If it says they went to United Highs School, I accept
them and invite them to join the group.

OLD LOVE NEVER DIES…
On September 12, 2019, I received the most unusual Facebook
“friend” request that I had received yet. There was no cover
picture. There was no profile picture. And, there was absolutely
no information. Dumbest friend request I ever received. So I
went to the Private Messenger and asked “where are you from”.
“Berlin Center”. I said, I know where Berlin Center is, I go thru
there when I go see my brother in Canfield. He asked, “Where
are you from?” Thinking of UHS, I thought he would not have
any idea where Norton is, so, I said Winona-Guilford Lake.
(Our farm was between Winona and Guilford Lake) He said
“My Grandma lived at Guilford Lake.” I said, Really. He said,
“she lived on the road where there is a restaurant on the corner.”
I said, Guilford Grille. He said he didn’t remember because he
moved to Alabama in 1988. I said that when I lived in that area
the only person I knew that lived on that road was Betty Votaw.
He said, “That was my Grandma. How old are you?” I said 76!
He asked, “Did you know Carol?” I said, NO. I didn’t know Carol,
but, I knew Carolyn. He said “that’s my Mom. I can’t wait to tell
her that I met someone that she went to HS with.” I said, I don’t
think that would be a good idea.. “WHY?” Because I don’t want
to create a problem. He asked, “what kind of problem?” I said,
“Your dad hates me because I dated your Mom for a total of
about 6 ½ years before he married her.” He said “No Problem”
and told me that his Dad had died on May 2nd (that would have
been my Eric’s birthday) Later that night, I was on the phone
talking to Carolyn. I usually crack a few jokes, not all of them
are very good ones. But, I figured Carolyn would be grieving
and I had been through that so I was going to just listen. You
have to know me to know how hard it is for me to NOT tell a joke!

At the end of our first conversation, Carolyn asked if I would call
the next night and I said YES. After that second night, she said,
“Talk to you tomorrow.” I said, OKAY. On the fifth night, Carolyn
said, I have a question to ask you. OKAY. She asked, “Are you
scared?” NO. She asked, “Would you be willing to meet me half
way to see if we can be friends again?” Well sure.

We arranged to meet in Cave City, Kentucky, October 4, 5, 6
and 7. We called it our Class Reunion,for 2 I drove my red
Crossfire. (I need all the help I can get and a red convertible
doesn’t hurt.) Carolyn got to the motel before I did and was
standing there when I pulled in. Within seconds, we both
knew that being friends again was not going to be an issue.
OLD LOVE NEVER DIES. It was like the last 55 years just
evaporated. THE HEART NEVER FORGETS. We drove
around Kentucky (380 miles) with the top down, talking
and listening to music that we both like. When we found
that we like the same music, we stopped at Best Buy and
purchased 6 more CDs.

On the morning of October 7th before we left, we went to
breakfast at the motel. A couple sitting at the next table asked
how long we had been married. Carolyn told her that she had
been married 55 years and I had been married 47…but, not to
each other. The look we got was somewhere between shock
and curiosity. So, we ended up sharing our story with them
and their response was, “What an awesome love story.”

It is OUR love story. Back to the time that Carolyn was 11
and I was 12. In between time, we have had the same brand cars
(Dodge Chargers, Dodge 400s) and now we both have Jeep Grand
Cherokees, the same color. We read the same authors. We liked
the same TV shows. We like the same music. We are on the same
road forward. Carolyn says, Love is a two way road with NO exits!
On November 15th, I flew to Birmingham to spend the week end
with Carolyn at her home and it was an awesome weekend!

We have been “forced” to share this story that started 65 years
ago and then being reunited, with friends and even with
strangers. Some people have cried because they think it’s a
beautiful story. Some get goose bumps. Some smile. We
are ecstatic and people are thrilled! OLD LOVE NEVER DIES!

    On June 20, 2020 Carolyn and I got married in Park City, Kentucky

December 18, 2020

Jim Stamp, June 06, 2022

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