"Some Enchanted Evening" Submissions
Set 5

"Some Enchanted Evening" Home

It was 2 a.m. on Halloween, 1987. I was dressed as Groucho Marx, as usual. A friend and I were trying to get into a party at a home on Kenwood. As my friend negotiated to get us in, I began talking with a very cute woman, her only nod to Halloween being cardboard glasses with eyes painted on each lens.

"What do you do?" I asked. She said "Marketing." "Sales?" I inquired. "No," she said, "Marketing." Thinking she was too young to have done anything substantive, I asked, "Secretary?" "Vice President of Marketing," she replied. This was someone doing something with their life! I knew immediately I had to get to know her.

As we did the usual 'get to know you' conversation, we were let into the house. I was increasingly intrigued by this smart, vivacious and obviously funny woman, when suddenly, from across the room, a woman I did not know launched herself at me screaming, "Groucho!"

She began to kiss me passionately. I, fully into character, naturally responded. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my porch acquaintance -- her name was Julia -- edge backwards and disappear. I was left with a man's greatest quandary: wife for the night or wife for the future.

Extracting myself, I searched the house for Julia. I finally found her in the basement disco, dancing. I cut in. We left the dance floor and found a quiet place to talk, eventually saying good night as we each went to our cars. We continued our conversation the next day on the telephone. Each of us were making soup as we talked.

Over the next few weeks, our attractions grew. We learned that friends of ours had tried to arrange for us to meet, but it never happened. Right after Thanksgiving, we got engaged. January of 1988 we bought a house. In June of that year we got married.

Nearly 15 years, two kids, two houses and a dog later, we are together, still and forever. Thank you, Julia, for being in the right place at the right time and for giving me a life I thought I would never have.

Barry Knight, Orono, MN

In 1953, the year I graduated from high school, a friend of mine asked if I would write to her boyfriend's buddy as they were both in the Navy. I didn't care about writing letters but figured, "what have I got to lose?"

I never in my life dreamed he would someday show up at my door as he was from Kansas; but in September of '54, he did just that. When I saw his eyes and heard his voice I loved him. In July of '55, we were married, and in the next ten years had our five children. We always told our kids we met through the lonely hearts club.

After all these years, I would do it all over again. He died this past September after having Alzheimer's for over ten years. He lost his speech four years before that, but his kind blue smiling eyes never changed.

Jo Retter, St. Paul, MN

October 3, 1978 the New York Yankees and Boston Red Sox play the only post season game to determine a division winner. I was listening to the game in the office of a friend of my Dad's at Marquette University. A congenial young man in a suit stuck his head in the door and asked about the score. Dick, my Dad's friend invited him in to listen with us. Dick carried on a conversation with this young man like he knew him fairly well; but never introduced us.

Three days later as I was heading off to my recitation section (I was a teaching assistant in the history department) I ran into the same young man at the elevator. His exact words were, "What are you doing here?" and I told him I worked here. He then replied, "What were you doing over there?" and I told him my father worked there. Then I curtly excused myself by saying I had to go teach. The next day he is outside my office door, he knows my name, and he asks me out for lunch. All through lunch he called me by name and I cleared my throat to get his attention. It wasn't until after lunch, back at the history department office that he gave me his business card and I found out I had dined with Phil Wagner. We dined together at every possible occasion for the next 22 years until his death in July of 2000. We also took in many baseball games and one season played on a co-ed team together.

Mary Kay Wagner, St. Paul, MN

I met my true love while on a fundraising bike ride for Habitat for Humanity called the Habitat 500. On the morning of July 19, 2002, our group of bike riders were being escorted out of Aitkin by the police and fire departments. We needed to ride out of town two-by-two. Kathy and I found ourselves paired up for the parade. We ended up riding together during the rest of the week's journey, swapping stories, sharing our lives, and getting to know each other better.

At the end of the ride, I returned to my home in Montana, and Kathy remained in the Twin Cities. Over the next year, we visited with each other by phone: having dinner, watching movies, and just chatting for hours on end. I just knew I had to move closer to Kathy to continue this wonderful relationship!

We have ridden two more Habitat 500 rides together. We continue to grow in our love for each other.

Joe Jeruzal, Burnsville, MN

My wife and I met and soon fell in love in September of 1976 while rehearsing for the opera "The Elixir of Love". At the time I didn't recognize her or realize who she was. To understand this we have to go back six years.

We were both active in our East High School choirs in Duluth and both of us were soloists for the A'Cappella choir and members of the Choralaires, a small group of sixteen chamber singers, but at completely different time frames. She had graduated a full year before I arrived. Our choir director had taken portraits of each choir, blown them up and hung them on the wall. When I arrived there were two in place with one being added each year. After looking them over, I found myself captivated by a girl with long blonde hair standing in the center of the front row in the first picture. For most days of the next three years I daydreamed about her and wondered if she would, one day, be my wife.

A year after we met, now engaged, we decided to visit our former choir together. As we entered the room she said she would point herself out to me. My jaw dropped with disbelief as she pointed to the very one I had fallen in love with so many years earlier. From that day to this, when asked, I say that I married the woman of my dreams, my high school sweetheart.

Glenn Evan McGill, Duluth, MN
Glenn's story was chosen to be retold at the live show in Worthington, Minnesota, on Friday, February 14, 2003. Read the script.

When I moved to the Twin Cities from Virginia in August of 2001. I didn't know a soul, and certainly didn't know my way around. I'm an avid road cyclist, and after a week of getting lost, I wandered into the nearest bike shop (Penn Cycle on Cliff Road) and asked if anyone there could tell me where the good road routes were. After a manager gave me some long, detailed directions and sold me a fairly useless map, a cute guy popped up from behind the counter and said "I road ride a lot, I'll be glad to show you around." Shy, I just thanked him and left.

After another few days of getting lost on the bicycle, however, I changed my mind and called the store back. He wasn't there, but another manager left my number — and some teasing compliments about his ability to attract women — on his time card. (He's still got that note.) The next Sunday we went on a 40 mile bike ride and talked the whole time; then to dinner afterwards to keep talking. After eight more months of long rides, we were engaged. The wedding is in August, and we're planning years of long road rides. I certainly don't regret my move to Minnesota!

Anna Katharine Mansfield, Chaska, MN

My fiancé' calls me the "stalker" to anyone who asks how we met. We work at the same organization, but different divisions. I noticed him because I liked the way he interacted with clients and co-workers. Wally is a very outgoing and caring guy. But being the shy person I was, it took me quite a while just to initiate a "hello".

After that hurdle was met, I then proceeded to make small talk whenever we crossed paths. I had mentioned to a mutual friend that I thought he would make a good friend, not thinking it would develop beyond that. She mentioned me to him and she then came back to me with, "I think he might want to ask you out." So, I decided to make sure he had that opportunity. I knew what time he got off of work. One day, I waited until I saw him leaving for the day. I knew he took the bus home and I decided to offer him a ride home. My plan was two-fold. I would find out where he lived and he could ask me out as I drove him to his home. That would provide him with the perfect opportunity, right? Or so I thought. I drove him to his place, but not even a hint of the possibility of a date.

I went home and decided to call our mutual friend and tell her what happened. She said he was pretty gun shy about asking a gal out. So, I asked if she thought he would mind if I called and asked him. She knew him a lot better than I and told me to go for it. Well, it took me about 10 minutes to work up the courage and another few minutes to dial the complete phone number and let the call go through. I felt like a teenager dialing and hanging up, dialing and hanging up several times. Suffice it to say, he said yes to our first date. And we have been together ever since. That was April 2002. He proposed on my birthday and we are getting married this May. Sometimes you have to take that first step or as he so likes to put it: become a "stalker".

Sue Richter, St. Paul, MN

I was drowning!

It was Memorial Day weekend and my friend Tony and I had gone out to the state lakes just west of Fremont, NE. While I was swimming across a small cove there was this dark haired girl rowing across in a small inflatable raft. I swam over toward her and asked, "If I were drowning, would you rescue me?" She replied, "Well, you'd have to be drowning first." So, I did the old cliché thing of going under three times. It was when I came up from the third time that I noticed she was paddling away from me toward shore. So goes the rescue.

Later, I went up on the beach and sat down to rest. There was an empty beach towel spread out near where I sat and it just happened to belong to the same girl who went back on her word to rescue me. She had gone to get some snacks and was a bit surprised to see me near her towel. We chatted for a while and I managed to get her name.

It took me a while to work up the nerve to give her a call after that weekend, but finally did. We were married just short of a year after that fateful weekend when I almost "lost my life." And yes, I did lose my life, but gained a greater one when I joined her in marriage. It will be 25 years this May 13th.

A.E. Casey Hermanson, Sioux Falls, SD

My husband and I met as the result of matchmaking by the cooks at the summer church camp where we were both working. While working in the kitchen, conversation had led to evaluating all the men in camp, and John had survived the cuts of too young, attached, too weird, or too homely. Unbeknownst to me, the matchmaking process began.

On our way back from evening worship at the lake, my boss (as John was at that time) casually said, "So, I hear you're interested in a summer fling." Imagine my surprise hearing this from a seminarian! We did indeed date for the summer and sadly parted ways in August as John went back to seminary in Dubuque and I got my first teaching job in Minnesota. However, one week before school started, who should show up on my doorstep with a half dozen red roses but my young seminarian! The summer fling grew into three years of long distance dating — 420 miles apart. We were married in 1986, we have 4 children, and live here in Minnesota. And we still find ways to have "summer flings"!

Tammy Ragen, Graceville, MN

There I was, sitting at my favorite counter spot in the Highland Grill. I was eating breakfast and reading one of my favorite novels as I usually did, and there he was: sitting at the other end of the counter, alone, with his book. First, I checked out his book, and it was a thick, boring computer manual (my opinion!). But, able to get past my reading elitism, I looked at him and smiled. He smiled back.

The next weekend there he was again, with another huge boring computer book, and I with an "enlightening" novel. I sat closer to him at the counter, we exchanged a smile, and proceeded to read our books in silence.

This went on for a number of weeks, and then I did it: I asked him what in the world he was reading, and how could he read such boring books. We laughed, and I sat next to him at the counter.

It has been two years, now. He still reads those big computer books, and I read great novels of quality. We love our companionship and relationship, and we still like to read together at the Highland Grill.

Jan Heuman, St. Paul, MN

"Some Enchanted Evening" Home

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