Written by Rocky Saxbe

In 1968, a year before I met Suzy Sloan in San Francisco, I saw true love on a dance floor in Columbus, Ohio. Carol Lowenthal, a Bexley girl, and I had been dating for about a year when she announced she was marrying a proper Jewish doctor, pleasing her parents immensely. I went off to Marine boot camp, but we remained good friends. Two months later I attended her wedding.

Just before dinner was served during the reception, I found my table and noticed the place card next to mine read “Suzy Sloan.”

We hadn’t met before, but I knew who she was and admit I was excited we would be sitting together. My Columbus Academy friends called her “hot, but unapproachable.” Perhaps Carol thought by seating us together, we would enjoy each other’s company or, better yet, make a good couple. Regardless, neither happened because Suzy never made it to the table. If she did, it was only for a second to catch her breath before returning to the party to be with her friends.

I couldn’t help but notice the glamorous couple dancing cheek to cheek during the evening, smoothly gliding about the room. They appeared to be in their early forties and looked like movie stars. They were flirtatious, clearly in love, and a sight to see. The man was impeccably dressed, and the woman looked like she had just stepped out of Vogue. When I realized I wasn’t the only one in the room watching them, I asked my friend, Betsy, who they were, and she replied, “That’s Billie and Paul Sloan, Suzy’s parents.”

Who would have ever guessed, certainly not my Academy friends, that I would be Billie and Paul’s son-in-law in four years? The romance between them was beautiful and fun to watch that summer night on the dance floor.