How I Met My College Sweetheart Husband by Belle Calhoune

Let’s go all the way back to the late nineteen-eighties.  Neon was popular along with spandex shorts, big hair and black rubber bracelets.  I was a college co-ed at Syracuse University, a very large college in upstate New York.  I was an English major with a minor in French. 

The first time I laid eyes on my husband was when I saw him on a local television commercial featuring Syracuse cheerleaders.  A cheerleader you may ask?  Yes, indeed.  My husband was a tall and athletic guy.  And an avid sports watcher.  His goal was to attend all the basketball and football games for free.  If he had to throw a few girls in the air and catch them to do it, it was fine.  He was in!

As I watched the commercial I turned to my friend, Alice, and we both agreed that he was very handsome.  But in a college as huge as Syracuse, what were the chances of my meeting him?  

The next time I saw my husband was during a night out with my friends at a college bar called Bugsy’s.  My friends and I used to love to dance to the latest hits and socialize.  At the end of the night I saw him—my crush from the commercial.  Cue the romantic music.   It suddenly came to a screeching halt.  Sadly, he wasn’t alone.  He was walking with a co-ed who my friend Jay informed me was my crush’s girlfriend.  She was even wearing his Syracuse letter jacket.  At this point I realized he was taken.  But that night I did find out his name was Randy.  He even had a great name.  As I watched him walk off into the evening with his girlfriend, I remember feeling a tad deflated.  Clearly, it wasn't meant to be.

Weeks passed by and I happened to see Randy again on the college bus that I took every day to bring me back to my campus housing.  By this time I knew he no longer had a girlfriend.  He was sitting with a group of guy friends and seemed totally engrossed in a sports conversation.  Nope, he didn’t even look away from his conversation with his guy friends.  Foiled again!

I attended a dance weeks later where at the end of the evening I sat down on a bench to put my boots on.  Did I mention that Syracuse is one of the snowiest places in the United States?  A few moments later a guy sat down next to me and began complaining about the loud music.  He was also putting on his brown Timberland boots.  One glance over and guess who it was? Randy.  We had a brief conversation which ended abruptly as the organizers began flashing the lights on and off indicting that the dance was over.  Was it my imagination or was I inching closer to officially meeting him?

This is probably sounding rather sad.  But I promise you, it wasn’t.  The truth is, I was living a good life.  But for some reason, every time I saw Randy I felt something spark inside of me.  It was almost as if a part of me knew that he was going to be someone very important to me. 

My life went on—I dated, had fun with my friends, attended concerts, went to church, spent time with my family.  Life was glorious.  I was happy.  My best friend Lisa and I had gone to high school together and then attended Syracuse together.  We were roommates and joined at the hip.  It was Lisa’s birthday and we went out to Bugsy’s with a group of friends to celebrate.  It was a fun evening with music, friends and joyful celebration.  Things came to a crescendo when I saw Randy walking in my direction.  I think I might have heard harps playing. 

We locked eyes (seriously!) and I said hello and kept walking.  A few beats later I felt a gentle tapping on my shoulder.  It was Randy!  He was asking me my name and then leading me to the dance floor where we danced to Prince.  We talked up a storm that night and he wrote my phone number down in his notebook.  I thought it was pretty funny that he had his backpack with him, but as a serious Engineering student he spent a lot of time in the library.  From that night on, we were a couple.  We would talk for hours on the phone, meet for lunch, go dancing and we even signed up for a history class together.

Five years later, we walked down the aisle.  Lisa was a bridesmaid.  We’ve been together for almost thirty years, married for twenty-four.  Randy went on to become an engineer for the FAA, then a patent attorney after three years in law school.  I was a Federal Investigator for thirteen years and I was the breadwinner during Randy’s law school years.  Things haven’t always been easy.  The law school years were tough as I was working full time and Randy was doing the law school thing.  We had our first child during that time.  Ultimately, we moved as a family to Connecticut when my youngest daughter was two days old.  It was finally time to reach out for my dream of becoming a published author.

No matter what challenges have been thrown our way, we’ve stayed together.  Still in love.  Still dedicated to one another.  We still understand that sacrifice is a part of marriage.  I like to think Randy and I were meant to be.  After all, I write romance novels for a living.