122 The first Twenty Years

Anniversaries come and anniversaries go but the first one of any importance to roll by was our twentieth. It sailed into sight so fast that I was taken just about by surprise. It seemed that we had not been sleeping together that long and I was still quite enjoying the experience, I still looked forward to jumping into bed every night and snuggling up to my honey. If you believe some of the stuff out there the experience for many has long since faded into an act of boredom by then, but strange as it may seem, for me, quite the contrary.

So it was with a sense of appreciation that we entered into the evening that our daughter Teri had chosen to commemorate what to us was the beginning of our history as a family. I guess I never told Teri, who was nineteen at the time, how pleased I was that she put the whole evening together in honor of us. She invited all of our close friends over to celebrate, and we all sat around in a big circle eating anniversary cake and drinking punch from a big punch bowl while we all visited together. I do not remember what the cards said or what gifts were given to commemorate the occasion, but I always felt warm and fuzzy about the event.

To add to the evening as a historical event we dug out some old super eight movies that Sandy had from her childhood and were boring our friends with them. Much to the relief of our friends the phone rang and the voice on the other end stated that the pastor who was one of the visitors and building a new home at the time, should leave immediately as his partly built house was on fire.

That immediately broke up the party and everyone took off to check out the fire and to see if they could be of any assistance. The Pastor, Mel Atwood in the meantime jumped into what he thought was the most convenient vehicle, which turned out to be in fact an old Corn binder pickup owned by a good friend Dan Johnson. His dad happened to be driving the old beater with one of the doors wired shut, and to make matters worse Dan’s dad drove all the way to the fire slower then most people walk. Our poor Pastor was biting his nails all the way the house, which he thought would be burnt to the ground by the time he got there, but to his relief he found still standing. It turned out that someone had set fire to a pile of scrap lumber that was stacked close by the house.

Well no more party but the memories of that evening still linger in my heart and the fact that Teri thought enough to remember our twentieth always leaves me with sweet memories. What part the fire plays in these sweet memories I am not sure but for our friends it did cut short for them what was turning out to be a most boring evening of home movies.