Darlene

This story is true.
As true as I remember it to be. What is left out are the ugly things.

All people have those moments. What good does it do to remember them?

To me this is an ironic but beautiful story.
It had been a long 3-months. Hot as hell too.

I was finally on my way back to Santa Ana from Marysville where the Newspaper

owner had sent me to shore up their marketing during a subscription price increase.

What we managed to do in the small newspaper worked and we didn’t lose any

of our subscribers. That’s what you are always afraid of when you increase

the cost to of the paper to a subscriber. Regardless of what you may have heard,

the number of subscribers a newspaper has on its roster drives the advertising,

which produces most of the revenue. We only increased it by fifty cents,

but that would be like $2.00 today. Another 30 minutes and I’d be leaving

the freeway turning off on Highway 17 and it would only be a few more miles

to my apartment that I had let Mike and Rick use while I was gone.

Boy would it be good to just sit down in my own place again.

It was not a heck of a lot, small studio apartment in Garden Grove

but it was just right for me now. I was only about 15-minutes from my

office and the area was quiet and for adults only. Perfect for me at the time.

I was 29 years old and had just gone through a divorce with my wife Joan

of 10 years and for the first time in a while did not hear the sound of my kid’s.

Bobby, 10 and Lori 9, were with their mother in Tustin which is a few miles

from Garden Grove and right up against Santa Ana where my office was.

I paid my child support religiously and felt it was the duty of any father to do so.

Character was involved here and for anyone that did not pay I had no time for.

There it was. The apartment complex and my home for now are just ahead

and I was glad it was finally in view. The 400-mile trip from Marysville

was no fun at all with most of the country you travelled through full of agriculture

of one kind or another. California’s San Juaquin Valley was long flat

and very productive. Nothing like the Mojave Desert where I grew up.

It only produced JackRabbits, blowing sagebrush and a Coyote here and there.

Turning into the entrance I could see my parking place was full with

either Mike or Rick’s car so I found the visitors place nearby.

I just wanted to go in, sit down and have something cold to drink before

starting to unload the car. Mike came to the door and we shook hands

and I said ”good to be home Mike” Rick was on the couch and sprung up

like he always seemed to do with that boundless energy he had.

A crushing hug came and I asked for something cold.

The place looked like hell but I managed to keep my cool for now.

I should have known I thought. Two young guys, what was I to expect?

I heard the bathroom door open and out comes this really cute redhead.

Mike introduced me to Darlene, one of his old girl friends and we all sat down.

I gave them a run down of what happened in Marysville then asked about

my own operation. (They both worked for me)

What they told me seemed all right and not too disastrous considering

my absence for 3-months. I was a young Newspaper Circulation Zone Manager

and honestly at the time thought my shit didn’t stink. I was having a hard time

keeping my hungry eyes off of Darlene and I noticed that each time they strayed,

she seemed to be looking also. Hmmm We talked for an hour or so and

decided to go out for some dinner, I was starving and by then it was nearly 7P.M.

We picked an Indian place nearby. One of those places you sit on the floor to eat.

It took awhile to get seated, as such, but once we did they started serving quickly.

All through Dinner, Darlene and I flirted, sometimes touching legs and

by the end of the meal I had decided to slip her my extra apartment key.

Maybe she’d come over? Maybe not, but it sure was not going to happen if I didn’t try.

Dinner finished and our last drinks had, it was time to go home.

Hell I still had to unload the car and have a little discussion with Mike and Rick

about when they would be leaving this place to me.

They were both nice guys but I liked this place and I liked it for me, besides

there was not enough room for 2 more in this place.

There was not that much to unload and the three of us had it done in two trips,

after which I said, “Let’s talk a little” I knew Mike would be the easy of the two

so I focused on Rick and asked “Have you decided where you will be going?”

Surprise! Rick said “Bobby, we already have a place set up and tomorrow morning

we plan on moving our stuff out and by tomorrow night, this is all yours again.”

It was almost midnight by then and I was shot. I said “Pick where you’ll sleep tonight,

I’m ready for bed.” By 10AM the next morning both were on their way and

I started cleaning up the place and putting my cloths away except for the wash.

Strange how you remember some things, it was a Saturday morning in August in 1968.

A long time ago to remember such little things. Fate is a shadowy thing.

Little did I know that this little studio apartment in Garden Grove California

would start two decades of wonderful life ahead and that the same town

of Marysville would surface again and again?

Back to work in the big plant on Monday morning and it was sure nice to sit

down at my desk again and chat with my people.

“How is your wife?” “Kid’s doing OK?” “Looks like you have done a good job while

I was gone, thanks” Just little things but the kind of conversation I had missed so much,

while I was away. These were what I considered “My” people,

I cared about them and their families and they worked hard for me everyday.

This would never change over the next 35 years. The people that worked hard for me,

made me, I never forgot it and I would always owe them a debt I could never repay.

Tired but still excited after my first day back, I got home about 6PM that Monday night.

Decided I’d run down to a Taco Bell nearby and bring home dinner then just lounge

on the couch that converted into my bed for the evening.

Monday night football was on and Dallas and Washington were playing.

Should be a good one I thought and who would want to miss a night of Howard Cosell.

Gifford and Meredith were just the decorations;

Cosell was the real meat on those Monday nights.

So down to Taco Bell I went getting back just before the kickoff.

I had just finished eating when there was a knock on the door. I opened it

and there stood Darlene. I can’t explain my feelings well after all these years

but I know this, Monday night football was not on the night’s agenda anymore.

I could read the outcome in tomorrows Register. That night was the beginning.

We lived together in that tiny place for a few months before finding a larger

apartment on Washington Street in Santa Ana. One night I came home to tell her that

a Publisher out in Wisconsin wanted to talk to me about his now vacant

Circulation Director’s position. First I had to go to Los Angeles to talk to his

Corporate Director, Bruce Blackwell. I asked her “Well, what do you think?”

Darlene said, I know that’s what you have wanted so give it your best try.

The next day I was on my way to LA to see Blackwell. At this time, Darlene was working

for the Telephone Company and if I landed the job that would be over.

Neither of us cared because the salary for the job would be so much higher than my

pay at the Register. Bruce Blackwell is one of those people you never forget.

He was direct, probing, sometimes brutal but all in all a good newspaperman and

surely the right man for his job. At the end of my interview I expected him to say,

“Thanks, I’ll get back to you” He asked me to get a flight to Chicago the next day if I could.

I said all charges would be his and the Hagedone Corporation’s, owner of the newspaper

in Wisconsin. I was exhausted when I reached home that night and Darlene and I sat up

for a long time talking about the day’s events.

Finally we went to bed and no loving tonight, I had to leave at 5:30 the next morning

for the LA Airport. How could I know, that when I boarded that Airplane the next

morning would change my life forever?

From a California Boy I was about to become a Gypsy.

I had never been to Chicago let alone O’Hare airport and when I stepped off

the plane 3-hours later I entered a vast complex. A complex that offered me no guidance

to where I should go.

But thank goodness a representative from the Newspaper would pick me up.

I waited. I studied everyone waiting for someone. I waited some more.

After an hour I decided that somehow plans were misinterpreted but I continued to wait.

I heard my name over the Public Address, “Bob Smith” “Please come to the red phone

in your area” Looking around the terminal I saw a red phone and hurried over.

It was the Newspaper Publisher, he said “Bob, I’m sorry we could not come to

pick you up” “We have a rented Car for you at the Budget desk”

I got directions from an Airport employee, went downstairs and the Budget people

did have a car for me and a way to get to it. Thank God.

I asked the car attendant how I should drive to get out of Chicago and go toward

Wisconsin; he gave me directions, which turned out to be a lot simpler than my

already frightened mind was thinking.

The meeting with the Publisher was successful; I was offered the position

but wanted to talk to Darlene before giving an answer.

Back in California and home by midnight, Darlene and I had our second discussion

about the day’s events. We agreed, I should take the job,

I called Blackwell in LA and by the next day we were making plans to move across

the country. The Smith’s had lowered their tents, loaded the supplies and were soon

going to be on the way to another beginning.

We thought we could both “hang up our hats” at this “new beginning” but it was

only the start of the journey that would give us many beginnings.

We only spent a year in Wisconsin but it was just long enough for Darlene to give

birth to my boy Kenny.

I had received an offer from a larger newspaper in Colorado Springs and gone

for it and left right after Darlene and Kenny came home.

They were in Colorado Springs in less than 2-weeks and our first apartment

was in Manitou Springs, which is almost part of the bigger city. Darlene and I bought

our first home in Colorado Springs and worked hard on it. It was brand new and it

needed just about everything. No lawn, no fence, not much but a house.

Wish we would have know then that a year later we would be back in California, but

in my industry you never know, especially if you are trying to advance.

We spent over 10 years in Northern California while I worked in San Francisco and

Marin County. My daughter Robin was born there and we bought a home in a town

called Petaluma. This little town is in Sonoma County, near the famed California

“Wine Country” and we used to take my old restored 1935 Ford on drives there.

The kids loved to sit in the rumble seat. Everything was going so good, 2 great kids,

nice home and a good job. My best friend, Ron Mead nearby, Darlene’s best friend,

Nancy Mead (Ron’s wife), a good Boat and plenty of good water to Fish in.

Why ever change this? I had already moved my family so many times.

Within a year I was back in Colorado Springs, Kenny with me and at first we

lived in a very old Church on the Newspaper’s property.

Poor Darlene was trying to sell our home in California and I was getting Kenny

in a good school. It took over 6-months for Darlene and Robin to come to the

Springs and the house still was not sold.

The day they arrived is the very day I know I broke Darlene’s heart. She and Robin

had come from our lovely home, leaving their friends in California, to live in an old

Church, in a town where neither of them had a friend.

I knew from the beginning she wanted to go back home and one day at lunchtime

I told her “OK, pack up what you need for the 2 of you” “I’ll try and get back

to California." I knew when I said it that it would never happen and my marriage

of over 15-years was over. I had moved Darlene once too often.

God she was a trooper but everybody has that point of no return and I crossed

that with Darlene. A good example of a Man with an overloaded ego and

little common sense. I stayed in Colorado Springs for 10-years and during that time

Kenny went back to California and Robin came to live with me.

Robin and I formed a bond that can never be broken and the last year in Colorado,

Robin gave birth to her son Austin (My Pal) in Lubbock Texas.

Darlene stayed in California for several years and then moved out to a little town

in Texas to take care of her aging grandparents.

She recently went through chemotherapy and radiation for her cancer and just

when that was over had a Heart attack. She is recovering now and the future

looks as good as it can considering what she’s been through.

I took a little break before finishing this story and looked at the pictures on my

wall above my bed. All of my family pictures are mounted on this wall.

There is a collage in one frame with 8 pictures. Most are of Robin, Kenny

and I but there is one with Sandy Roberts and Darlene standing together.

I peered at that one picture a long time.

I understand now that only a fool can expect a woman to follow his ambition forever.

Makes no difference how much she loves him. That statue of love finally gets enough chips

in it to just topple over.

Sitting down to finish I thought “ Darlene is still as beautiful today as she was 35 years ago”

and what my daughter said is right, “ Mom is the most gentle, loving person in the world”

Thanks honey for not just dropping me in the morning trash, a long, long, time ago.

We may not have had a marriage that lasted forever but we remained awful good friends

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