By Deborah Schroeder
June 25, 2025
If I were to poll an audience of young women, and by a show of hands ask whether they have dreamed of their wedding day since childhood, I predict most hands would be in the air. Somehow, that one-day-my-prince-will-come dream really took hold!
Today, those dreams of the “perfect” day have materialized into week-long “events” where bridal parties and families gather at scenic destinations to play, party, dine, and embark on local adventures as if there was no tomorrow. But what happens after “I do”? How do you know whether you are truly I love with your soulmate or infatuated with the idea of the transition from “me” to “we”?
As of this writing I have enjoyed 52 years of marriage to my soulmate. I want to share with you how I discovered we shared true love, not a flimsy infatuation, and how you can, too. My story follows, but names have been changed to protect the privacy of those involved.
Warnings and Choices on the Journey to Infatuation
It was autumn about 6 weeks into my freshman year. I was accepted into a mid-western university of approximately 20,000 students, about 90 miles from my home. I lived on the third floor of a new dormitory on campus with Sheila, my roommate (and bestie from high school). She had begun dating a really sweet guy named Chad. He was nearing completion of his pledge period with one of the fraternities on campus. A celebration to recognize their achievements and welcome the new pledge class into the fraternity was planned at a hotel venue about 90 miles from campus. Chad and Sheila were excited about attending this event. Chad’s cousin, Sam, was pledging the same fraternity, and he needed a date for the pledge banquet. Sheila and Chad thought it would be great if I went with Sam as a blind date. I was reluctant, but since my roommate would be with me, I decided to go. (In subsequent articles, if I should make a derogatory remark regarding blind dates, you’ll soon discover why.)
I was probably more excited that I could wear my new cocktail dress my mom and I picked out when she took me shopping for a college wardrobe. “You should have one really nice dress,” mom told me, “so you are ready for special occasions.” The black dress was knee length, with a crepe top in a boatneck, sleeveless style. A wide black sash defined the waist, and the lined skirt was covered with playful black feathers. I loved how I felt in that dress! And then some warnings emerged that I chose to ignore.
The first warning should have registered with me when Sam made no effort to contact me prior to the event, you know, just to get acquainted. Perhaps he could have asked about the color of my dress to purchase a coordinated wrist corsage. Like The Holiday, when Eli Wallach offered a white Orchid for Kate Winslet’s wrist (she had a black dress, too). They were headed to an event honoring his achievements in writing movie scripts. But Sam was silent. I totally overlooked his silence. I was too caught up in the idea of attending my first fraternity party. But I could not miss the second warning.
The second warning. On the day of the event, Sam and Chad arrived at our dorm on time and dressed in traveling clothes. They would drive us to the chartered bus departure location. Our dorm had a large lobby with expansive windows on two sides that brought in an abundance of natural light. The guys used the phone at the front desk to call our room (no cell phones in those days). A few minutes later Sheila and I exited the elevator and entered the lobby. Sheila’s boyfriend lit up with a huge smile when he saw her. He walked briskly to her, gave her a hug and said, “Hi, Beautiful!” Now who wouldn’t want to get to know that guy! So, I am anticipating a warm welcome from my blind date. Instead, I should have heeded the second warning when I heard him say this:
“Oh, no!” Those were his first words spoken as he walked toward Sheila and me! Not “hello, I’m Sam. Nice to meet you.” Or even, “Hey! What’s happenin’?” Nope. I heard the sound one utters when water overflows from your second-story bathtub, soaks your floor, and soggy plaster mixed with bath water and creates a tsunami on your dining room table below. Whatever Sam had imagined I would look like, I did not make the cut. The lyrics of a song comes to mind: I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger (titled Ooh-La-La, originally by the English Rock band Faces in 1973, and later covered by Rod Stewart). I should have smiled, introduced myself, and said to Sam, “I got your message… Good night!” I should have turned back toward the elevator and headed back to my third-floor dorm room. Instead, I pretended not to hear his remark, and I forged ahead. I did not want to miss that party.
We met up with the Chartered buses in a public parking lot where drivers were already beginning to load rented tuxedos, cocktail dresses, and luggage into the baggage compartment below. The buses transported our group from campus to the venue. Hotel reservations were already made (4 guys to a room, or 4 women to a room).
The third warning. As people boarded the bus, couples sat together. But when Sam worked his way down the aisle, he took a seat for himself by stretching his legs across the bench to make clear I was not welcome. So, I found another seat for myself. As the buses departed from the station, Sam wasted no time rummaging through his duffle for his bottle of alcohol. He had taken several drinks before we came to the first traffic light. Do you have any idea how long an hour and a half is when you are riding alone in a cluster of couples with no one to talk to (no cell phones to keep me occupied)? By the time we arrived at the hotel, Sam was clearly inebriated.
The group checked in and everyone had their room keys. Sheila and I proceeded to the hotel room we were sharing with two other women to get ready for the banquet. While we were busy touching up make-up, styling our hair, and getting into cocktail dresses, Sam put on his tux and wobbled to the indoor pool. He had too much to drink, stumbled onto the diving board, took a few steps and fell into the deep end of the pool—dressed in his rented tuxedo. A couple of employees saw it happen and rushed to his aid. They pulled him out of the pool and helped him into a nearby lounge chair. I was aware of none of this until someone knocked on our hotel room door. And then the bottom fell out. I did not see this coming, but I could have.
One of our roommates answered the door. Two good-looking guys in tuxedos smiled, introduced themselves as the president and some other officer of the fraternity. The president asked if they could have a word with me. Me? I had only been in the hotel for about an hour. What could I have done that required someone to speak to me? My curiosity peaked. When I came to the door, the president smiled and invited me to step out into the hall for privacy.
“I am really sorry to tell you this,” he began, “but your date, Sam, had a little incident at the indoor pool. In a drunken state he fell off the diving board into the pool. Someone pulled him out and he’s now passed out in his hotel room. It looks like he’ll be down for the night.” I had no idea how to respond. I was 90 miles away from campus, with no money to pay a taxi to drive me back to my dorm. There was not much to do but say, “thanks for letting me know” and “enjoy the party” (which I won’t be attending because I chose to ignore rather obvious signs that this evening was going downhill fast!).
Sometimes a dark cloud has a silver lining. The president did not just walk away after giving me the worst news I could have heard in that moment. He continued…
“I am truly sorry for Sam’s behavior,” he said. “This incident does not reflect the integrity of our brotherhood. We would like to do what we can to make the evening special for you.” While I was not quite sure where this was going, he continued. “Please come to the banquet and sit at the head table with the fraternity officers and our dates.” I said, “You might want to check with your dates to see how THEY feel about that.” It was certainly a kind idea, but they did not have to feel obligated to include me. Stuff happens. Turns out they did discuss the situation with their dates and it was unanimous that the fraternity leaders needed to be role models of integrity.
To be continued in Part 2
