Summer vacation was coming to an end, and I was about to start my freshman year at Bexley High School. The year was 1963, seven years before meeting Rocky. One Friday night my friends and I were huddled together at an outdoor party when one of the girls overheard that an upperclassman wanted to meet me. I guess it was a big deal because he was a junior, very popular, and captain of everything. I wasn’t the least bit impressed or even nervous until I saw him walking towards me with his friends. All eyes were on us, and I felt like Olivia-Newton John must have when John Travolta walked over and introduced himself in the 1978 movie, Grease - but who’s ever seen that? All of a sudden, here was this guy standing in front of me with the most penetrating eyes, and I (silently) melted.

When school began, we started passing notes in the hallway and sometimes talked on the phone late into the night. Before the afternoon bell rang, we would meet in the school lounge, line up in a row with other couples, and dance the cha-cha to the Four Seasons. We were together most weekends, and I waited for him to walk off the football field after every home game. Our romance even made it into Bob Greene’s book, “Be True To Your School,” a memoir capturing Bob’s high school days at Bexley in 1964. According to Green, our puppy-love romance was “big news in the school.”

One day after school, the two of us were cruising around Bexley and noticed his mother following us. He was always concerned something like this might happen, because she was vehemently opposed to him dating Jewish girls. He quickly made a couple of turns to lose her, dropped me off at home, and told me not to worry. A short time later, my phone rang, and sure enough, it was his mother at the other end. She was livid, screaming that if she ever saw us together again, she would come after me. Shocked, speechless, and frightened, I hung up and burst into tears just as my Mom walked into the room. She was outraged and prohibited me from going out with him again for my own safety; my Dad agreed.

Big mistake! What both sets of parents didn’t comprehend was their demands turned us into a Romeo and Juliet. The drama made us want to be together even more, and sneaking out became the norm. We either met at a friend’s place, or I walked over to a church parking lot near my house, where he would be waiting for me.

Our routine worked for a long time until the day my parents found a letter about our weekend plans. They were enraged we were still seeing each other, but I was more enraged they were reading my letters. A battle ensued, and the only solution I saw at the time was to run away from home. I flew out the door wearing only blue jeans, a t-shirt, no shoes, and nowhere to go. Tears were streaming. I headed south for a mile and a half and eventually reached a friend’s house in South Bexley. This became my home for two miserable weeks.

I went to school every day wearing my friend’s clothes and shoes. Her family made me feel at home, and yet nothing felt right. I had so many conflicting emotions but was too stubborn to return home. What I didn’t know at the time was her father and mine were in constant communication. When I was at school and bumped into my twin brother, Steve, known for his sarcasm, I would ask how things were going at home. His reply was usually, “It’s never been better” or “Your name is never mentioned.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

The day finally came when my parents thought our separation had gone on long enough. Dad picked me up, we drove around for an hour talking about everything under the sun, and I agreed to go home. When I walked through the back door, Mom was waiting in the kitchen, and we wrapped our arms around each other for the longest time. I could see on her face, and in her eyes, a look of bewilderment and worry. In hindsight, I’m sure she worried about me more than I could have ever imagined. Isn’t that what parents of teenagers do? I know I did.

Despite all the obstacles and rules laid upon us, my first love and I still found ways to be together. Just like Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, we were two teenagers in love whose parents tried everything to keep us apart, but couldn’t. And then, one day, my football jock left for college, and our passion for each other slowly faded away, as first loves usually do.

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