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LittleLove Stories
2
Memento by Ann Baker
Downtown, in the city of Rochester,
New York, there’s a bridge with a
view of the Genesee River. It is
named after former Rochester
residents, Frederick Douglass and
Susan B. Anthony. We call it the
Freddy Sue Bridge. I miss it.
_____
Chance or fate?
by Judy Toohey
My husband could have married my
sister. Was it chance or fate that he
didn’t?
The second weekend of our freshman
year, 1953, two Harvard boys drove
over from Cambridge looking to
meet some coeds. The two boys
chose to talk with my identical twin
and me. As one chatted with my
sister, the other really didn’t have a
choice. He got me!
And that was the beginning. Was it
chance? I was meeting my future
husband. Yes, we were married three
years later and together for fifty-eight
years.
_____
“…Real nice clambake” by S.W. Burkman
August, at the beach
Dinner for some guests on the
Boardwalk,
not the dining room.
The student, enjoying a second summer
working at the shore,
Clad in white clam diggers, with
sunkissed bare feet,
approached the young man sitting alone.
After work, they departed together,
Briefly visited a crowded bar,
Twin Lights, high above the sea, quiet,
dark . . .
just the place to talk for hours.
They talked every day
til Labor Day, when she left, for her
senior year. They pledged to continue
that
conversation . . . It lasted for the next 56
years!
_____
Love me, love my St. Bernard by Gini Smith
Come meet my pooch.
His name is Mooch.
He likes a single square of steak
With a double spot of hootch.
Beware! He'll lick your shiny boot.
And lap your hand, a swarmy smooch.
He leans for love. So, slide on down.
Give him some room. Well, just a
skootch!
Sit!! Mooch!!!
_____
3
True love by Judy Rubin
Norm and I met in high school in
10th grade. Before long we were
“going steady.” Unfortunately,
before I met him, I had committed to
a job in Connecticut. We parted
when I left in June with a big kiss
and the words “See you in
September.” During that summer, I
received 48 letters from Norm that I
still have. All ended with “P. S. I
love you.”
On my finger, I’ve always worn a
ring with a double heart that Norm
gave me sixty-five years ago.
Every year we still celebrate the
anniversary of our first date on
11/23/55. I sign any card I give
Norm with the words “Love to ∞.”
_____
Love in a small package by Jackie McClellan
Back in graduate school, we babysat
for our vacationing neighbor’s
newborn kittens. When they
returned, we kept the runt of the
litter. I loved him. James did not.
And Runt wasn’t very fond of him
either. Sneaking in after James was
asleep, he would spend every night
curled up under my arm. Two years
later, we went Paris for a year, leaving
Runt with a friend. On our return, he
snubbed me for a while, but then running
up, he wrapped all four legs around one
of mine, and refused to let go for the rest
of the day.
_____
Love story haiku by Deidre Crumbley
Juniors at Temple
Fifty years apart—alas
Seniors at Pennswood
_____
Our shared love of music by George Kurz
On a Friday afternoon, I sat alone in our
living room watching the Philadelphia
Orchestra play an all-Beethoven program
at Version Hall.
As has been my reaction to music several
times in recent months, I was deeply
moved, constantly thinking about
Elisabeth and the numerous concerts we
attended there, sitting in the balcony
facing the orchestra, holding hands and
drinking in the music together. I was
overwhelmed with emotion, wishing so
much that we could again enjoy such
concerts together. I cried and spoke out
loud of my love for her and how
intensely I miss her.
_____
4
Dante love by Nancy Vickers
2021 marks the 700th anniversary of
Dante’s death. He and I have been
together for over 50 years. We met
by chance. A friend decided to audit
a Dante class; I tagged along. Our
professor entered an overflowing
classroom, sat down, opened the
Divine Comedy, and began to speak.
He took our collective breath away.
Literature changed. This soaring,
encyclopedic poem encompassed the
universe; it spoke the people’s
language; its recitation in medieval
streets was manna to the illiterate.
Many of us never recovered. As I
reread it yet again, I am still
captivated . . . after all these years.
_____
Love by Doug Meaker
Robin and I married in 1958 and
remained married until her death in
2019. I marveled at our 60 years.
A thread running through this is that
our lives would affect but not govern
one another. A 1981 major spinal
operation left her crippled and fit
only for volunteer work. She drove a
standard car daily to accomplish her
activities.
My part was to provide support as
needed. After many years it sank in
that I loved this woman. I think she
loved me too, but that’s beside the point.
We quarreled, but that’s because we
cared.
_____
Chemistry class by Jim McClellan
I saw her at a distance a few days after I
first arrived, forlorn, as a junior at
Central Bucks. At the grand old age of
sixteen, I knew immediately and
instinctively that I loved her and wanted
her as my life partner. Perhaps it was her
profile or the curve of her hip. Something
compelled me toward her, my perfect
goddess. We first spoke at an after-
school study session for students
interested in chemistry. I sidled up to her
at a lab bench. It was chemistry and
much more from then on.
_____
The bright red jacket By Martha (Dusty) Mulder
(Quoting the late Harry (Bud) Mulder
from a Trenton Times article.)
“Martha played the glockenspiel in the
Trenton State Teachers College band. I
played first trumpet, a position far from
her. So I played badly to make the band
leader put me at third trumpet — in front
of Martha. She used to wear a bright red
jacket. It attracted me right from the
beginning. As soon as I was solid with
Martha, I really cut loose and was back at
first trumpet position in no time.”
5
P.S. by Dusty: Once married, we
taught many years and had three sons
— Richard, David, and Michael.
AND I STILL HAVE THE BRIGHT
RED JACKET.
_____
Winter’s Spoon by John Wood
Especially now, with handled
warming pans,
Down quilts and flannel sheets
passé One calls on body heat to blunt the
north wind’s bite,
For comfort to relax and sleep to
come.
In this a younger you excelled
And still are a delight.
Spooner without equal, and in
spooning,
Closing out the bitter winter’s night.
I am content, at peace,
As, side by side, warm bodies share
Cold noses, in rhythmic cadence,
Breathing winter’s air.
We lie and sleep there, cheek to jowl,
Your muzzle on the pillow next to
mine,
My close and selfless friend, my Lab,
Who likes to spoon and spoons so
well,
Now that it’s winter time.
_____
Special delivery by Nancy Miller
My long driveway seemed to grow
longer as I made my daily trek to get my
New York Times. Imagine my surprise
one morning when I found the paper
right next to my garage. It was a mystery
repeated daily, and I was very grateful.
When a Christmas card was enclosed
with the newspaper, I sent a card asking
why I was receiving this gift. This is the
answer I received: “I saw you getting
your mail and I noticed that you use a
cane so I thought that you could use a
hand.”
_____
Tiny seeds to giant
sunflowers by Lynne Waymon
A pot of corn chowder, some crusty
French bread, a roaring February fire.
I’m thinking, “This guy knows how to
create a beautiful evening.” We’re
thirty-somethings, dating only a few
months. “My Burpee Seed Catalogue
came today. Wanna look at it?” Todd
asks. Crimson Sweet Watermelon, Red
Beefsteak Tomatoes, Tiger Eye
Sunflowers. Then he says, very
nonchalantly, “Let’s decide what we
want to plant next summer.” Then he
looks over at me. He winks and we
snuggle closer with anticipation. We
know our love is growing.
6
Forty-three gardens later, Todd just
emailed in our Burpee seed order.
_____
Unconditional love by Kathy Hoff
Summer weekday afternoons, I’d put
Ben in the stroller, and we’d walk up
to the head of the street to meet six-
year-old Ted where his day-camp bus
dropped him off. One day, Ted got
off the bus grouchier than usual and
all along the way, as we walked
home, kicked at my ankle.
“Why are you doing that?” I asked
after he had succeeded in making
contact.
“Because I hate camp, and I know
you’ll love me anyway.”
_____
The big brown chair by Alice Warshaw
Springtime, he and a friend visited
me after our 60th high school
reunion. As we chatted before dinner,
he relaxed into my big brown comfy
chair—looking handsome and
confident. He flew home to Florida
the next day.
Our Vermont friend invited us both
to visit that fall. I planned to drive up
alone. She suggested he should fly
to Trenton instead of Burlington and
help me with the driving.
To this day, she denies setting us up. I
wonder.
We emailed all summer—kinda flirty. By
the time we met again those three months
later, fearful but happy, we knew.
_____
Long and sweet by Lydia Lewis
Our love story is long and sweet
As George School students we did meet
Paul noticed me in Bancroft study hall
He thought I was cute—Tall Paul, he was
“my all”
Paul drove his parents’ Mercury on our
first date
My parents said, “Do not be home late”
To Princeton movie theater we did go
Returning home driving very slow
Before finishing college married we were
The next several years were mostly a blur
We raised two boys then travelled a lot
The Florida Keys is our favorite spot
Now 61 years later and still holding
hands
On the same property we did land.
_____
Slippers by Elaine Ferrara
Every evening, shortly after getting into
bed, I felt an invisible cat exploring my
calves. When the space was wide
7
enough, shortly after I fell asleep, he
took up residence between my legs,
staying until I began to stir. “I’m
glad you enjoyed the warmth,
Slippers!” I yelled, accusing him of
theft.
He did this for fifteen years, until he
transitioned out of this world. At
that point, I learned that what he was
really doing was stealing my arthritis
pain so that I could sleep better.
And, what a thief he was! Slippers is
the love of my life!
_____
Lost love by David Cuff
A bright yellow scarf
Left hanging at my camp site
Her name was Anna
When I read this, I feel pain, a
yearning for love lost. But there was
no yellow scarf. No Anna. As in
many haiku, this image is imaginary.
I’ve had only one serious love. In
1961, on our honeymoon, we camped
near Farnborough, England. And I
did leave behind, on a tree, a nearly-
new pair of jeans.
Maybe that yellow scarf is my lost
blue jeans, bought in Calgary. And
maybe Anna is the lost love I married
there. Her name was Helen.
A few of my favorite things by Anne Baber
The curtain going up. Butter-dripping
lobster. Poems that make me cry. Cher
in Moonstruck. A new Sunday New York
Times crossword. Little-known bits of
history. Nora Jones singing “American
Anthem.” Memories of theater-going in
Nova Scotia. Ai chi in the Pennswood
pool. Getting lost in Bucks County. All
my Dear Ones. The Kansas City Chiefs.
Crimping the crust of a peach pie. The next book in a series—greeting the main
character as an old friend. Charleston
gardens. The peppermint-stick forest at
the Shady Brook light show. _____
How I got a cat by Todd Waymon
Our cats had died, so we went to Chester,
Nova Scotia, “sans felines.” We planned
to stay all summer and had “Get Cats” on
our to-do list. A neighbor suggested we
might try the vet uptown. We called, we
went, we saw kittens—lots of them,
frolicking in a tiny room. All so cute!
How to choose? I thought: I’ll go in and
sit down. Right away, a gray and white
kitten got in my lap, in my face, in my
heart! Our Chester. We got one of his
sisters, too. Petunia!
_____
8
The cat’s meow by Chester Waymon
Ten of us in a room no bigger than a
closet. Can’t even take a decent nap
or play. Nice of the vet to take us in,
but no life for an amazing kitten like
me. Hey! Someone’s coming in.
Who’s this, sitting down on the
floor? He’s looking us over. I take
things into my own paws. I climb
right up into his lap and get two
inches from his face. “Hey, you look
like a very kind human. Let’s get
outta here and go have some fun.
Okay? You got tuna? How about I go
home with you forever?”
_____
For Bill: 1942-2012 by Lisa Taylor
“What do you think,” Bill asked,
“about getting back together?”
My head was under the table;
I was reaching for my napkin.
It was 21 years since Bill drove
away, leaving me and our three-year-
old daughter. Bill was an active
alcoholic then.
“Yes,” I said, sitting up. “Yes.”
And so began the great adventure of
our lives.Together we drove away,
heading always West. We stopped to
rest in Taos, New Mexico, and never
left. There, awed by the beauty
around us, and unfolding within us, we
understood that we were touched by
grace.
_____
My only love by Yoma Ullman
No heating in the dormitory, ice outside
the windows, ice inside the windows, ice
on the slop pail, icy sheets. What is there
to love? My hot water bottle (wartle for
short). On my stomach, between my feet,
clutched in my arms, my only joy. I’ve
knitted jackets for it, forgiven it for
leaking, cherished it with all my heart.
My one and only love, my wartle.
_____
9
The big squeeze by Glenna Follmer
Kerry knew her story by heart,
having heard her dad, Kurt, tell it
many times.
How she was first named Jin Sul
Hee—“speaking hope”.
How the agency paid two
businessmen from Seoul to fly 6,000
miles with Kerry in a carrier on the
floor beside their polished shoes.
How a uniformed lady fed her soy
formula and changed her diapers.
How her carry-on had a fluffy dress
and Important Papers.
How when the plane landed at
Philadelphia International Airport on
April 24, 1998, Kerry was placed in
her parent’s arms.
Then—Kurt tells his favorite part—
she grabbed his thumb and would
NOT let go. Love at first squeeze.
_____
Cat love of my life by Ann Maley
Newly alone, went to animal shelter.
First one bit me. Picked up beautiful
Norwegian Forest cat. Hooked paws
over my shoulder and purred. Vet
later said, “He chose you.”
If I said, “Going to the studio,” he
followed. Loved to supervise when I
hung laundry out. Tolerated eight-hour
drives. Left artistically arranged bits of
mouse or rabbit on my bathmat, but
when he came in holding a wriggling
snake by its middle, I put them both back
outside.
He understood illness. Leaned on me
until I felt better. Eighteen years
together, gone nine years. Miss him
every day.
_____
The deep by Betty Aptaker
I love the ocean.
I was born at the seashore and spent my
childhood by the sea. My happiest
memories are of playing on the beach
and splashing through the surf. The
sound of crashing waves is music to my
ears. Sunlight sparkling on the water —
what a joy!
I thrilled to the anticipation of watching a
giant wave rush to hit me and body surf
me to the shore as much as I loved lying
back on the gentle “rollies” that waft me
over the surface.
Lakes, pools, and ponds do not call to
me. No salt water there.
_____
10
Cookie making by Marguerite Chandler
It’s our first Christmas as a blended
family: my new husband Richmond,
his daughter Laura, and my two sons,
Mark and Adam. I suggest we make
gingerbread men together. We mix
the dough, smelling the molasses,
ginger, cinnamon, cloves, and
nutmeg. We’re ready to cut the
cookies, but I can’t find my cookie
cutter. Disappointment all around.
Richmond finds his tin snips, takes a
large tin can from the trash bin, and
while we watch with great
anticipation, makes us a darling
cookie cutter for our spicy, delicious
gingerbread cookies. Amazing!
What a guy—he’s a keeper!
_____
Not a love story,
but a story I love by Steve Schnur
My wife Deidre had mentioned to a dear
relative by marriage, a White woman
named Rainey Ragan, that she would be
passing through Phoenix Airport on her
way to Los Angeles. Rainey lived in
Phoenix. Sadly, there would be no
opportunity for them to meet at all. That
didn’t stop Rainey. Rainey would be
there, on the other side of the glass, to
blow kisses to Deidre as she passed
through the Baggage Claim area. And
she was!
Maybe this is a love story after all.
_____
Lifesaving love by Carolyn Peters Michener
When I was working at Planned
Parenthood as a nurse practitioner, one
time I discovered a mass in a woman’s
breast. I wrote the appropriate referrals
and encouraged her to attend to it
immediately. The next time I saw her,
she pressed a small pink ribbon into my
hand, saying, “Thank you for saving my
life.” I cherish that ribbon.
_____
11
Three chapters by Tish Plum
Chapter 1: June 15, 1998
1 p.m. A beautiful day at an
outdoor wedding.
2 p.m. Seated by a dapper
gentleman, 2 years widowed, as was
I. Super conversation.
3 p.m. Decided I’d like to
marry him someday. (Much later, he
admitted to feeling the same.)
Chapter 2: September 1998
Walking along a beautiful
stream in Vermont in an area known
for its green marble. Leaves aflame.
Sun shining. Birds and butterflies.
“Wait here,” he said, and picked
something out of the brook— a
small, green marble, heart-shaped
stone. He pressed it into my palm
and tucked my fingers around it,
“Here is my heart. Please take good
care of it.”
Chapter 3: May 9, 2008. Married
him.
End of story.
_____
Unrequited By Richmond Shreve
“I’d like to live here,” I’ve often
mused when first visiting a new
place. Generosity, kindness, and the
welcome of strangers charm me.
Besides America, where can one
move so freely, following the whim of
the moment, and remain safe and secure?
No passport, no checkpoints, abundant
fuel and food, and, services, as needed.
From sea to shining sea, the blessings of
community and liberty are everywhere,
be it rural, urban, red state, or blue. But
not for all of us— Liberty’s bliss is still
the privilege of being born male, fair-
skinned, and well-off. Civic love remains
unrequited for many.
_____
Publication of
Pennswood Village Residents
Association
Founder and Editor Emerita: Paulina Brownie Wilker
Managing Editor: Anne Baber
Contributing Editors: Glenna Follmer, Kathy Hoff,
Jane Perkinson,
Typist: Sarah Pollock,
Proofreading: Sally Burkman
Distribution: Lisa Williams
Layout: Dick Piccolini
Contributors:
All Pennswood Residents
Email your contributions to
or place typed hard copy in our open
mail box. Past copies of the
Village Voices are in the Pennswood
Library on shelf 21. You are welcome
to read them (and leave them) there.