First Exposure to Athens

It must have been around 1966 when I first visited Athens. Belinda Stowers had invited me to a dance. The dance was held in a little building behind Athens High School. I guess there might have been between 20 or 30 people there. I was more accustomed to larger places, like the Memorial Building and Bluefield Armory. I had always gone to larger schools. Schools where you probably didn’t know everyone in your senior class. What really stuck out was that everyone knew everyone.

My next visit to the school was Belinda’s prom, 1969. Once again everyone knew everyone. Our last visit to the school was her ten-year reunion. We had a function in the gym and we wandered down to her old locker. We found JH+BS written inside the locker. When I went to the dance as a 16-year-old Belinda was 15. We were just friends. Thirteen years later we stood at her locker, being married 9 years. We went to different schools that were about six miles apart.

Here’s the background. Rick, a friend of mine, was dating Belinda. She and several of her girlfriends were having a party and Rick asked if I wanted to ride to the party with him. Sure, why not, I had nothing better to do.

After the party Belinda walked with me and Rick to the car. Rick had left his jacket inside and went back in to retrieve it. There we stood, just the two of us. The most beautiful girl in the world, a girl way out of my league. We were making small talk and suddenly, I kissed her. My boldness, the bad boy inside of me had surfaced, and I kissed her. She didn’t resist and her beautiful brown eyes stared into my eyes, and I had a feeling that I had never experienced before. Was she shocked, was she in disbelief? It was hard to read her facial expression. Was it possible the kiss had sparked something inside of both of us? I had never been serious about a girl. This time it was different, she was different, but she was way out of my league. And she was my friend’s girlfriend. Rick returned and we left for home.

Several weeks later Belinda and I crossed paths again. She was at a local drive-in with some of her friends and she told me that she and Rick had broken up. Rick said that he wanted to date other girls. I asked if I could call her, and she said sure. We talked on the phone for several weeks and would occasionally run into each other at one of the high school dances. We talked and a strong friendship developed. She wasn’t like other girls. She was honest, open and demanded nothing from me. We became buddies.

One day she called and said that Rick had been to her house, and he wanted to get back together. She asked me what she should do. I had never had a serious relationship and I surely hadn’t made a commitment to a girl. All my friends were going steady, and they marched to the beat of their girlfriend’s drum. I wasn’t ready for that. I was like the wind moving freely and not willing to be harnessed. I knew if she went back with Rick that our friendship would have to end. With every ounce of fiber in my body I wanted to tell her that I cared for her, that I liked her, that I wanted her to be my girlfriend, but I couldn’t work up the courage to say those words.

I told her that I couldn’t tell her what to do, that she should follow her heart and be true to herself. She called me a couple of hours later and said she had refused Rick’s request to get back together. Imagine that! She had chosen to remain friends with me. Someone cared about me and valued my friendship.

I recall we had a lot of adventures at nearby Brush Creek Falls. One such trip got us into trouble. It was the end of the school year and Belinda was taking her final exams. She only had to go that morning but as far as her parents knew she would be there for the day. I picked her up around noon and we headed to our favorite spot, Brush Creek falls at the bottom of Bluestone Gorge. A one lane, sometime gravel and sometime mud road, that led to the falls at the bottom.

We spent the afternoon basking in the warm rays of sunlight, frolicking in the creek, swimming and splashing each other, teasing and sharing our thoughts and dreams with each other. We needed to get her back to school in time to catch the bus, so we departed from our secret hideaway. We were just about to the top of the mountain, and I veered too close to the edge and the next thing we knew the car was rolling down the mountain side. The car rolled 2 or 3 times and came to rest on the passenger side. I told her to stay still, that I would crawl out the driver’s side window and then help her out. As I was crawling out, I could feel the car rocking side to side. Again, I told her to remain real still. After I had exited the car, I was shocked to see that all that was keeping the car from dropping 1,000 ft. into the creek, and certain death below were two small saplings.

I didn’t want to panic her so I told her I was going to crawl onto the car, and I would reach my hand down to her. She was to grasp my hand and I would pull her from the car. I told her if the car started to roll, I would jerk her from the car, just don’t let go. Looking into her face I could see a calmness, she trusted me, and I prayed, Please God, don’t take my angel away. If the car had started to roll, I was going with her. I didn’t want to live in a world without her. Gently and slowly, she worked her way up to me and when I was able to grasp both of her arms, I knew that even if the car rolled, I could get her out. Thank you, God, thank you for sparing me, for sparing her.

When she was safely out of the car we crawled up to the roadway. We stood staring down at the car and the two little saplings that had stopped the roll. We were both trembling, terrified at what we saw. If the saplings had not stopped the car we would have plunged 1,000 ft. into the river below. No one knew where we were, and no one would have had any idea where to start looking for us. We were not sure we would have ever been found.

Although I never lived in the town my most wonderful memories are in Athens. This August we will mark our 55th wedding anniversary. And it all began in Athens. I never visit my Princeton home without driving by that spot where it all began with a kiss. I even have a photo of that place.