In 1960, I was in my last semester at Point Arena High, and dating my late first wife Marilynn. A mighty storm peaked in February on the night of our Valentines Day Sweethearts Ball . I dressed up in my best -- white dinner jacket, black slacks - the white dinner jacket was Mom's idea. I think I was the only one in the area that had one. Everyone else just wore a dark suit. I drove our 1950 Chevy down coast to pick Marilynn up for the dance.
I was a Senior, Marilynn a Sophomore. Her family lived about half a mile up a steep dirt road off Highway 1, which years later was named Gypsy Flat Road by the new owners. I turned off Highway 1 and started up, but soon realized the old Chevy was not going to make it very far up the slippery, muddy road. I stopped at a neighbors house close to the bottom of the road, parked, put on a rain slicker and rubber boots, and walked up to Marilynn's house. She put on her rain slicker over her prom dress (blue, with spaghetti straps, just gorgeous) , donned her rubber boots, and we sloshed down to the car. We left the rain gear with the neighbor.
We drove to the Ball, had a wonderful time, drove back to the neighbors, and reversed the process. After I walked her home, got a cup of hot cider and a good night kiss, I slogged back down the hill, recovered my car, drove home, dreamed all night of spaghetti straps on bare shoulders, and the mysteries hidden by fluffy prom dresses. *sigh*
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