Black February

I’m going to try something new this time around. 37 years and I’ve never written down my feelings. Oh, I FEEL them. Over and over every year. But, I’ve never tried to put those feelings into words outside of my own head. Which, in retrospect, is rather strange. Or telling.

I’m a writer, I’ve kept journals, off and on, for my entire life. Never thought of writing it all down before. This feels like something that must be done. Maybe this will be therapeutic. Or enlightening. Or just plain cleansing. Maybe it won’t do any good at all. Maybe I won’t find the end. But, as they say, nothing ventured nothing gained. And Harm deserves to be remembered. So, here's the story..............

Once upon a time, toward the end of July, 1967, to be more exact, there was this young girl. She was me at eighteen years old. Just out of High School and just about to finish up Beauty School. Ready to take on the world.

Back in those days, kids were allowed places to “hang out.” Our favorite was Carter’s Hamburgers. Exactly a two minute run from my back door. I know this as most nights that’s how I got home. At a run. Curfew was 10:00 p.m. and my mama didn’t play! I had it down to a science as for every minute I was late, I lost that many minutes the next night. So, back to Carter’s.

I was walking across the parking lot, ready to go nurse a coke for an hour or until somebody came by, whichever came first. My best girlfriend and another gal were sitting in a car I didn’t know, with some guys from Detroit. I’d never met them. Well, when he saw me, one of these guys says to Donna, “See that girl over there? I’m going to marry her.” He had no idea that she knew me. Donna turned to him and said, “oh yeah? Would you like to meet her first? She’s my best friend!”

She called me over to the car and introduced me to her new big bad boy friends from Detroit. Cool was different back then, but trust me, these guys were cool. His name was Harm. (Harm?) Never heard that one before. But, he was cute. Beautiful wavy brown hair and twinkling brown eyes with long eyelashes. And a terrific sense of humor. Somebody told me what he'd said about marrying me and we all had a good laugh.

We were talking and he said he had a motorcycle. Yippee, I loved motorcycles. He went home to get it and came right back to take me for a ride. Pre helmet days. I hopped on this great big, gorgeous 1967 Triumph, Purple before purple ruled………we went for a ride……..it was wonderful. I was happy, hanging’ on to him with the wind blowing through my hair. I wish I could say that I still feel the wind in my hair, but that would be wishful thinking or a big fat lie. I can’t. But, I still remember that it was magic.

He asked me for a date to the movies the next night. I easily said “yes”, before running home to make my curfew! And once again, I made it in on time.

Next day, Saturday, I had Beauty School and anxiously awaited 3:30 p.m. to get the hell out of there. Onward to home, where before even THINKING of going on a date that night, I had to scrub the kitchen and dining room floors, with a scrub brush and Fels Naptha soap. Let ‘em dry, a light coat of wax. And I was on my way to a shower and dolling up for a first date. He was due to pick me up at 7:00 p.m.

That’s when I first learned of his penchant for being late. And yes, he was always late.

7:00 came and went, then 7:30.……..maybe car trouble? Had I even given him my phone number? I didn’t remember. OK, now it’s nearly 8:00 and I’m listening to my mother…….”Well, he mustn’t be much of a guy to stand you up…….Why should you even want to date this guy?…..You deserve better than this………..and on and on.” This was new. I’d never been stood up before. And I was getting pretty pissed off. So, at 8:oo I announced, “I’m going to Carter’s. If he shows up, tell him I said, “Don’t bother with me. I don’t want to see you.”

I swear, I had one foot out the back door when my mother hollered, “He’s here. He’s cute.” What can I say? I met him and his hundred apologies at the door. And I bought it. He took a nap and overslept. His mother (who grew to be one of my favorite people in the whole world, another story) woke him up singing “Lolli Pop, Lolli Pop, Oh Lolli Lolli Lolli Pop.” He was already late by then. But, at least he showed up with a story I was willing to believe.

We went to the Dearborn Drive In. I honestly can’t remember if we saw, The Dirty Dozen or Goldfinger. Whatever, we saw one of them one week and the other the next. In the whole scheme of things, I’ve found that the order just doesn’t really matter.

The next day, Sunday, he took me to meet his parents. He’d told me that his mother’s birthday was the day before, July 27th. I remember being in awe that his mother was so young. She’d just turned forty years old. Heck, my mother was 36 when I was born, Daddy was 45. So, his parents seemed sooo young to me. It was just a quick ‘hello”, but perhaps it was telling, that after only one date, he took me home to Mama.

OH WAIT. I forgot about what happened AFTER Harm dropped me off. I had a midnight curfew. Afterwards, he went to his old stomping grounds, Pacer’s, his hangout like my own personal Carter’s. Just to hook up with friends and probably brag about his date with the cute blonde. Went for a ride with a friend who’d been drinking. Next thing he knew, BANG, the guy ran off the road and into someone’s front porch. He hit and split. Leaving Harm alone with the car & empty beer cans. A couple of minutes later the cops arrived. Dennis, that was that bastard’s name! Anyway, Harm landed in jail, not in trouble really, but his mother had to pick him up at the police station about 3:00 in the morning. Not a happy mother to say the least.

to be continued.............