APRIL 2 2011 0946 - JACKSONVILLE FL: Today marks a special anniversary for me. One that is nearly 3 decades old, and one that has changed the course of my life immensely.
It was April 2, 1982. I was in high school, and a member of the school's Marching and Jazz bands. I was a cocky trumpet player who just knew the world could not tell me crap. Yep, I was certainly Milton's son.
On this day, my school's Jazz Band had a perforance at the Washington Monument. It was part of the Cherry Blossom festival, and it was actually a Friday. The following day the Cherry Blossom parade was scheduled.
Now this jazz band performance was long, and it was extremely warm that day. So, to put it in layman's terms, I was extremely tired afterwards.
We arrived back at school, and I grabbed my trumpet and my flugel horn, and started to walk home. As I said, I was tired, so everything arround me was a blur, all the way until I approached the corner near Banaker Jr High School. That was when I heard it. A little voice that cut through the mass of other garble in the air.
The voice said one word, and that word was my name. So I looked across the street and there she was, this tiny little girl, with two pig tails in her hair. She was wearing blue jeans and a white sweater with stripes. She was also looking at me as if she'd known me for years.
I walked across the street and introduced myself by saying "Ok, you know who I am. Now, who the hell are you?" She giggled slightly and began to tell me how she came to know who I am.
She played clarinet for Shaw Jr High School's marching band, and she saw me when I came into one of their morning practices. I knew her friend, a girl named Phyllis, who I met in October 1981 after the Howard University Homecoming. She said her name is Julie, and she has a twin sister named Julia. If only I have known about Bipolar disorder at that time.
We talked about a variety of things that day. We talked about how to clean her band shoes, and what each band was playing during the parade. The conversation lasted for a more than an hour. We agreed to meet at the McDonalds on Georgia Avenue and Bryant Street after the parade. We exchanged phone numbers. She did not have a pen, so she used eyeliner to write my number down. I thought that was rather cute. From there, we went our separate ways and both headed to our respective homes.
The following day, April 3, we did meet at the McDonalds. It was me and my friend Terry, and she and her friend Phyllis. Julie called herself playing match maker between me and Phyllis. We ate, and talked, and played and teased, you know, typical teenager stuff. During the meeting, her actual sister did come in, only the sister's name was Rebecca. She, Rebecca, was wearing a lavender colored Parka with the hood over her head and zipped, so I could not see her face. Rebecca whispered something to Julie and then left the McDonalds. When I asked Julie if that was Julia, she said no, that is their baby sister. I figured what the heck, and we got back to our conversation. Julie and I kept getting to know one another, while Terry tried to sway Phyllis with his charm. Terry was such a player, cool, but a real player.
After what seemed like a few hours, the four of us left. Terry was going to hang out at my house that night, so we decided to walk the girls home. We walked Phyllis home first. Funny thing was as the four of us walked, Julie was holding my left hand, and Phyllis was holding my right hand. Terry, being the comical individual he was, asked Phyllis if she would like to be my girlfriend. Phyllis answered honestly by saying she was not sure, and at that moment Julie struck while the iron was hot and said to Phyllis "Well, drop his hand then". Phyllis did as she was told, and fate was set at that point.
We arrived at Phyllis's house, and Terry decided to stay there and talk to Phyllis. I walked Julie home, all the way back past the McDonalds, to a street corner that was 2 blocks away from her house. She said she did not want one of the boys on her block to see me because he is a jealous bully. It did not make a bit of difference to me because I knew how to handle muscle headed bullies, but I respected her wishes. We talked for a little while, before we sealed the deal with a key. I gave her a peck on the lips, and she asked me if I have ever french kissed (we called it tongue kissing) a girl. So we kissed again. It never dawned on me to ask how a 13 year old (I was 17 at the time) knew about french kissing in the Early Reagan Era before Cable TV and its flooding of sexual images, so I just went with it.
Walking home, I passed the McDonalds. The president of the High School Band, a cool swagger filled Saxophone master named Eric was eating with his girlfriend. Eric came to the door and asked where I was coming from. I told him that I walked a young lady home. Eric started chiding at me, you know that typical teenager fun picking stuff. Eric asked me if she was my girlfriend, and I responded as of tonight, yes.
Over the course of the 10 years to follow, Julie - who is actually Julia - and I would become one of the most known couples in Washington DC. We would get married, have two children, live in California, and North Carolina before fate would tear us apart. We had a lot of trials, fights, misunderstanding, and - since 1992 - years of silence. We saw each other again in 2005 when I, our daughter and our unborn 2nd Grandchild went to attend the funeral of her father. The years have added pounds to both of us, and life experience has tempered our individual resolves. I married and divorced once more between 1992 and 2005, she'd never married again. A female friend traveled with me to the funeral of my father in law, so I could not tell Julia exactly how my life has not been the same since she and I fell apart.
Despite all that we have been through, Julie (as I still call her to this day) has been a profound influence on my life. Without a doubt, she was the best thing to ever happen to me.
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