As I was thinking about what to write on Veteran's Day, I remembered of the story of how my grandparents on my mother's side met.
My grandfather had just come back from his tour in Germany at the end of WWII and was looking to meet a nice girl. A mutual friend set my grandmother up with him, but she was very nervous about the blind date. She was the kind of girl that would spend all her salary as a telephone operator on a new frock and live on apples for the rest of the month, in the pictures I've seen of her, she's incredibly beautiful.
She was waiting in the car at the apartment building where my grandfather lived at the time and anxiously watched for the unknown man to emerge. She was horrified to see a rather large and ungainly young man come out the door and, in a moment of weakness, ducked down on the floor of the car, hoping he wouldn't see her and go on past.
Well, unbeknownst to her, on the heels of the first, unfortunate individual came my grandfather, tall and handsome in his uniform. He came over the car, opened the door and my grandmother fell out at his feet.
The rest, as they say, is history.
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