Event circa 19331.
Written September 1989.
There was a brilliant full moon when I set off for my alma mater, Berea College in Berea, Kentucky. I had acquired Robert’s agreement that I deserved a brief vacation. My obligations as a wife, mother, and homemaker caused much toil preceding this departure.
Bob, aged four and one half, and Dolly aged two and one half, were thrilled at being left with Gladys and Aunt Mellie on their farm in Wayne County, Ohio. Both their clothes and supplies and mine had to be packed for the trip.
We arrived at the farm a day early so I could establish their routines. We put them to bed and settled in for the night before Gladys drove me to the bus station in Wooster. Gladys assured me all would go well back at the farm. We said our fond goodbye as I boarded the bus for my night ride south.
We were about halfway to Cincinnati when the bus driver announced over his loudspeaker that the heating system for the other side of the bus had come on, making the passengers there uncomfortably warm. He asked those of us on our side to share our empty seats with them. Soon, the seat beside me was occupied by a handsome stranger.
He politely thanked me for letting him change from his hot seat and seemed to want to pass the tedious hours by talking. I was haunted by my grandmother’s admonition, “Never talk to strangers while traveling.” Besides, I had an exaggerated sense of propriety of my own. I would be civil enough to converse with him, but I wouldn’t let him know who I was.
He asked me, “Haven’t I seen you somewhere in Cleveland?” “The Library?” I had worked at a branch library. “The Art Museum?” He gave up and began talking about his family, producing pictures of his boy and girl, who seemed to be about the same age as mine, so I proudly showed him my pictures. He even told me the name of their obstetrician, which proved to be the same as mine.
He then told me he was a stroke on the crew at Yale. I said my husband and I often enjoyed the boat races when he was in Medical School at Yale. I foolishly let my pride get the better of me when I told him that Robert had two brothers in Yale Medical School at the same time. With that, he said with great animation, “I know who you are!” I know Donald, who was a classmate of mine in college. I know Ralph and his fiancée, and I know Robert is married. How do you do, Mrs. Robert Dial! I was as astonished as I was amused.
He was all gallantry after that, helping me change buses in the Cincinnati Station, and carrying my suitcase to the counter where I bought my ticket to Berea, Kentucky. To my chagrin, I found I didn’t have enough money in my purse. I left home with plenty of cash, but it was stashed away in an embarrassing place. With my hero looking on, I reached into my bra and extricated the necessary shekels. My blush almost set my hair on fire!
Oh well! We soon parted. He went his way, and I went mine. I never saw him again, and I have since forgotten his name.
Mary W. Dial
Transcribed May 1991.
Posted Sep 14, 1989 at 03:18.
Revised Sep 23, 2025 at 21:56. EDT.
Retrieved Jun 1, 2026 at 22:27.
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