A Nameless Girl

I don’t remember her name.  But, I do remember a lot about her.  She was a nineteen year-old sophomore at State University College at Oswego, now known as the State University of New York (SUNY) at Oswego.  She was slim and shorter than I was.  She had light brown hair, styled in the fashion of the day.  She wore glasses.  She was far from a knockout beauty, but she was more than plain.  She was a Jewish girl from Brooklyn, New York, an only child being raised by her widowed mother. 

I was also a sophomore, albeit at the University of Pennsylvania on my semester break in the winter of 1964-1965 visiting my parents in Oswego.  It must have been a Hannukah celebration at Congregation Adath Israel on East Third Street that brought us together that first time.  Normally, my mother only went there on holidays and this time the three of us went, including my father.  I think my mother mentioned there might be some female students there from the college.  There were no local Jewish girls my age. 

Before or after the religious services, some refreshments were served and I noticed her.  I acted courageously and introduced myself.  Being an Ivy Leaguer gave me some clout, or so I thought.  She seemed pleased to meet and talk to me.  I asked for her phone number and she readily gave it.  I called for a date the next night and she accepted.  Driving the family car, we went to see a movie at the Oswego Theater.  I remember it was a Disney film, Those Calloways, which starred Brian Keith, Vera Miles (The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance), and Brandon de Wilde (Shane).  When I put my right arm around her shoulders she reciprocated by stroking my right hand with her left.  Things were going well.

Afterwards, I suggested we get something to eat.  Unfortunately, the weather had taken a turn for the worst.  The roads were slick with snow and ice.  I tried to climb a road which was on an incline and the tires of the car lost traction.  Not being an experienced driver, I became frustrated when I could not get where I wanted to go.  She remained calm and supportive, which helped me get through this mini-crisis.  After a bite to eat, I returned her to her sorority house.  We agreed to write each other as she would soon return to her home in Brooklyn. 

Over the remainder of the winter months, her in Oswego and me in Philadelphia, we exchanged several letters expressing how much we looked forward to seeing each other again.  When the time came for me to return to Oswego on spring break, when she would be there, I told her in a letter that I wanted to take her out that first evening, which she agreed to.  I arrived in Oswego by lunch time.  Afterwards, I gave her a call to let her know I had arrived safely and to confirm when I would pick her up that evening.  It was about 2 PM and I thought I would see her about five hours later.

Her mood swiftly changed.  She wanted to see me right away.  She insisted that I come to see her now.  She saw no reason to postpone our getting together immediately.  As a matter of fact, I had no pressing plans.  I had just wanted to relax a little at home and rest up for our date after my flight from Philadelphia.  I also did not like her demanding that I do anything.  Perhaps she reminded me too much of my mother, another Jewish female, from whom I had escaped when I went off to college.

Not wanting to ruin our plans for the evening, I agreed to see her as she wished.  We met on campus, she showed me around a bit, and then I drove her back to her house, where she introduced me to a number of her sorority sisters and their boyfriends.  I remember sitting down on a couch and then she immediately sat down next to me, leaning into me with her head in my chest.  She introduced me to the others as her boyfriend.  I didn’t know.

I’m pretty sure we had a good time that night.  All I remember was the last fifteen minutes of our date.  We arrived at her house in my family’s car shortly before her curfew.  There were numerous other cars parked or double-parked in front.  Couples were making out.  As soon as I turned off the engine, she threw herself at me and we started heavy-duty, non-stop necking.  This was my first time.  I’m sure we were both enjoying ourselves.  When the time arrived, I walked her to the door and kissed her good night.  I never talked to her or saw her again.

When I got home that night I started thinking about the events of the day.  Sadly, in retrospect, I focused on her insisting on my coming to see her when she wanted me to as opposed to when I wanted to.  She had not said please nor implored me with longing in her voice.  In my mind, it was as if she were scolding me like I was a bad boy. 

On the other hand, I should have focused on the ecstacy I had experienced at the end of our date which could have led to more and better times in the near future.  It wasn’t like I had any other girlfriends in my life.  But what can you expect from an immature, inexperienced and dumb nineteen year-old boy? 

I decided I would never call her again.  I didn’t want anyone to treat me like she had.  But, I was a coward.  I should have talked to her face to face and calmly discussed my grievance and ask that she moderate the way she dealt with me in the future.  I should have told her that our relationship was speeding along too rapidly in my mind.  We needed to discuss what we both wanted from each other.  Instead, I just crossed her out of my life without giving her any explanation.  To that nameless girl, I would say, “I’m very sorry.”

On the other hand, my seventy year-old self would say to my nineteen year-old self, “You are so stupid.” 

The key to life is to learn from your mistakes and not repeat them.  Good luck!