Chapter 5 - The Proposal

The Proposal

Looking back, I realize now how young we were when we found our “person”. From the day we met, George and I were perfectly suited for each other. We loved our families and looked forward to starting our own. We had our career goals in full view, and we were in love. All of this, and we had just turned 20!

Young love - young lovers

School, work and studying filled our calendars, but we always found time to be together. Sunday family dinners were spent at either his home or mine  – or sometimes both. An afternoon with my family followed by a trip to the Hultman house, where George’s family gathered for a summer barbecue and a swim in the pool. 

Life was wonderful. We were in love – and in like. No quarrels or fights. We both continued living at home, and would never even consider spending an overnight together - imagining our parents' disapproval - and making our covert intimate moments more special. We loved whatever we were doing, as long as we were with each other.   

Oh the captions this image could generate!

At some point over the next year and a half, we both felt the excitement of imagining our life together. When I casually mentioned to my mother, “Mom, would you be happy if I married George?” her approval was instantaneous. I had chosen the boy of my parent’s dreams!

George was working fewer hours as pre-law coursework got more challenging, and he promised me a ring – someday – when he could afford one worthy of his Lovely Paula Marie. We strolled the storefronts of Northridge Mall, and stopped to admire rings in the jewelry store windows. I wasn’t in a hurry, and would have been happy with whatever he picked. But, as always, he had a plan…

Northridge Fashion Center, circa 1971. 

December, 1972 As Christmas approached, we found ourselves at the mall quite often. Engagement ring window-shopping had been replaced with Christmas present buying, and George confessed he wanted to give me a coat as my present. My coat obsession traces back to my winter, 1969 trip to South Dakota. Until then my Southern California born and bred senses had never seen snow fall, observed icicles, or felt chilled to the bone! Coats were essential there, and styles of the day had me hooked. While I wouldn’t need it often, I longed for a variation of the popular maxi length coat with wool shearling collar and cuffs.  

The coat style of my dreams. Perfectly unsuited for Southern California.

George was well aware of my very specific taste, and wanted me to pick out the coat. He would buy it, gift wrap it, and present it to me on Christmas. He mentioned on several occasions how bad he felt, having me pick my own present, but I assured him it was perfectly fine. I was eager to open the gift box and wear my gorgeous new coat, no matter how warm that SoCal Christmas weather would be.

Christmas Eve was the Hultman’s traditional night to gather for dinner as a family. George became Uncle Santa, happily donning the red suit and beard as he “Ho, ho, ho’d” his heart out, to the delight of my nieces and his nephews. My family always chose Christmas night for the family get-together, which eliminated the need to “choose” with whom we would spend the holidays. Another perfect fit!

Uncle Santa passing our presents 

On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, 1972, George arrived at my door with the huge, recognizable Bullock's Department Store box holding my beautiful new coat. I looked forward to wrapping myself in all its mod splendor, and he looked happy presenting it to me. “Let’s go into the den so you can open it now,” he said. I was a bit puzzled he chose a room so un-Christmas-y, but off we went to our little TV room/den. He handed me the box, heavy under the weight of that mid length beauty, and we sat together as I untied the bow and lifted the top off the box. Tissue flew as I attempted to reach my coat. Instead, I uncovered…bricks! And hidden in the center of that oversized gift box I saw it – a two by two inch jewelry box. My heart skipped a beat! My boyfriend was about to propose.

I don’t remember his exact words. But I do remember the thrill of the moment. The beautiful, almost one carat, marquis cut diamond solitaire, set in a brushed yellow gold band. He had been saving for months, and drove to the LA Jewelry Mart to find the perfect diamond and setting – with all of the details from all the rings I admired in those jewelry store windows. He got down on his knee, asked me to spend the rest of my life with him and slipped the ring on my finger - and I said “Yes!” We were engaged, and I rushed to the next room and my parents – who had been in on the surprise all along. George was old school and had asked my parents’ blessing weeks earlier. Hugs and handshakes ensued. 

“I have to show Lolly!” My best friend lived a few houses away, and as we walked to her house, I held my left hand at arm’s length, admiring my newly adorned ring finger. We drove to his house, my arm still extended as I admired my beautiful ring, and his parents and family made me feel as if I was already a part of the Hultman clan. It was a Christmas Eve to remember. Paula Preston was going to become Paula Hultman.

And The Coat? It was in a box under our Christmas tree the next morning. A Christmas gift from my parents!

The Coat. Not a single photo of The Ring could be found!