Chapter Two - Boy Friend, Girl Friend

The Friendship Years 1969 – 71

Those of you who knew George long enough have likely heard his account of "Our Story." He told it with great detail and wonderful embellishment! He and I both loved sharing the details, and hopefully this retelling captures the best of both our versions...

HARRY: (on having a girl as a friend) Yeah. It's very freeing. I can say anything to her. JESS: Are you saying you can say things to her you can't say to me? HARRY: Nah it's just different. It's a whole new perspective. I get the woman's point of view on things. She tells me about the men she goes out with and I can talk to her about the women that I see. JESS: You tell her about other women? WhenHarry Met Sally

I lived at home while attending college, and continued working at my parent’s dry cleaners. George and I saw each other infrequently in the two years after high school. But the friendship was always intact. We exchanged letters while I was visiting family in South Dakota. Gave each other birthday cards and token Christmas presents. When I was sick with a nasty, autumn flu bug, College Boyfriend came to the door with a HUGE pumpkin. George showed up the next day with red roses – his bouquet of choice.  As CB and I were dealing with a crisis in our relationship, I confided in George. I felt his kindness and comfort, and knew I deserved better than CB. Our relationship ended. I had my lifelong best friend, Lolly, and her boyfriend Ernie to keep me company. I was going to be okay.

Single Paula Marie, 1970

I opted out of dating while I healed my wounded heart and ego. George continued his miserable relationship with the girlfriend he came to refer to as “The Wacko”. And we were both busy college freshmen...

George, before Paula 1970. 

George and I chose our career paths in junior high – our generation’s term for middle school. George took an aptitude test that steered him in the direction of a law degree. He remained laser focused on that goal, and even severed ties with some friends whose drug use (it was the sixties, after all!) might render him guilty by association.

By his junior year of high school, George had reunited with his most responsible, “safe and sane” friend, Barry. They busted tires together at Firestone, saving enough money to buy their beloved GTO’s. Those impressive, gas-guzzling machines - and $.25/gallon “leaded” fuel - took them on fishing trips, and to Las Vegas to see Elvis and play slots. Not yet 21, their ID’s were their confidence - and receding hairlines. When Barry opted to change his major from Engineering to Law, he and George grew even closer as college study mates. Barry saw George through his tumultuous eighteen month relationship with The Wacko, and eventually posed the question that would steer his lifelong friend toward his Lovely Paula Marie.

George, 1970

Barry, 1970

Meanwhile, I didn’t need an aptitude test to know I wanted to be a teacher. My middle class roots, and the “mid-century modern” playbook seemingly predetermined a girl’s four career path options – nurse, secretary, teacher or mother. I followed the required course of study for a teaching credential – chose my major (English), and took my general education courses. I had gained self-confidence and a stronger sense of self in my year at community college, and in September of 1970, I transferred to California State University Northridge. George would transfer there in February of 1971. One day in the early spring of  our sophomore year, 1971, our paths crossed for the first time in over a year…

CSUN’s campus was sprawling, and my upper division courses were in two south campus buildings, while George and Barry frequented the northernmost campus. Between classes I took a break at the rooftop cafeteria of “my” building, Sierra Hall, and was headed to the elevator and my next class when I looked up and saw George and Barry. I didn’t know George had transferred to CSUN. We hugged and exchanged a few friendly words. I remember the happiness I felt seeing him. He had always been a wonderful friend, and I left the unexpected encounter looking forward to running into him again. 

That would happen a few weeks later. George would tell the story of how that chance cafeteria encounter changed everything, thanks to Barry. As I walked away, he asked George, “Who do you want to spend the rest of your life with? The Wacko or Paula?” George made his choice. His breakup soon thereafter was as dramatic as their relationship, but he was finally free of her and our friendship was about to rekindle…

April, 1971. A Sunday evening. My parents were out of town. I remember what I was wearing. A floral print A-line dress I had made – we called them shifts. It wasn’t late, maybe 8-ish, when there was a knock at the door. I opened it, and there stood George.  

It was a complete surprise - a happy one - and I invited him in. I don’t remember anything more than general conversation about school, work and family – until he dropped the breaking news story. He had broken up with The Wacko. The details were still fresh in his mind, and I sensed his relief to be extricated from what was such a dysfunctional relationship. He described the fights. Her jealousy. His fear she might do something violent – as she had threatened - if he left her. I listened, just as he had when I shared my “situation” with CB the previous year. 

My bond with my friend, George, became stronger that evening. We had now both shared our most personal boyfriend/girlfriend stories, and felt safe and understood. We exchanged a friendly hug and he left, but not before assessing my relationship status (I didn’t have one!), and getting my okay to call me (I said yes).

Unbeknownst to me, the pursuit of Paula Marie was about to begin...