Dick Jacobsen

Once in a lifetime you meet a Gal you can spend the rest of your life with. The trick is how to spot the right one.

It was late Friday afternoon, I had gotten off work and was driving from Eureka, CA to Concord, CA to spend the weekend with my Gal. I had just had my Austin Healey Sprite tuned and gassed and ready to go, and headed south on US 101 through Fortuna, Rio Dell, Humboldt State Redwoods Park, and Miranda, when just outside Garberville, Bang! Something goes wrong with the engine. I was able to limp in to town and found an open gas station. “Can you fix this?” I ask the attendant. “The mechanic will be back Monday morning, we can look at it then,” was his answer. Super, what to do now?  “Hi sweetie, it’s me,” I say into the phone. “Where are you, when will you get here?” she excitedly asked. “Actually I am broken down in Garberville, do you think you can come and get me?” The phone went momentarily silent. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Four and a half hours later, my Gal comes driving up the hill to pick me up. This was my first indication.

I decided to try my hand at International Construction Projects and signed on for a project in Saudi Arabia. For a single male this was not a wise thing to do. The existance was lonely, drab and lifeless. Work absorbed 95% of my waking hours. After three months I rated a vacation, so I wrote my Gal and asked her to join me on Tenerife for ten days. I reasearched the flights and found two that would end up at the same time and date at London’s Heathrow. My flight arrived an hour before hers so I found a seat that was situated with a view of the stairs that all passengers had to negotiate to get to passport control. Passenger after passenger wended their way down the stairs to the gigantic room. Finally a trim, gorgeous blond rounded the corner and down the stairs. MY GAL. I was excited. This was my second indication.

Like an idiot, I signed up for my next project in Iran. Even though my Gal had not said yes yet, I demanded a ‘married status‘ contract and I got it. Two months into it, I wrote my Gal and asked her to marry me, and she said yes. I sent her a ticket and a month later she was on a plane to Laguardia and on to Tehran. At Laguardia there was a bomb scare on her flight. Mayor Ed Koch (1978 to 1989) and his entourage were on the same flight who noticed the fear in my Gal’s face and actions. The Mayor and friends calmed her down and asked her to join his group in First Class. The Mayor and his group deplaned in London and my gal flew out on Iran Air, an hour later. She arrived at Mehrabad Airport, Tehran looking fresh and beautiful and as always wore that welcoming smile. This was my third indication.

Preparing for marriage in Tehran was challenging. The country was on military curfew, the atmosphere was tense and government officials were more difficult to deal with than usual. We had to go through physical exams, aids testing, and the like. My Gal was the only woman being xrayed (by male technicians) required to strip. There were two bright sides to our wedding day. The minister was a jovial fellow who put everyone at ease and remarked “The Shah has seen fit to lift the curfew from 9PM to 11PM just for you.” The brightest side of the day was watching my Gal, in a slate blue, form fitting gown from Selfridges in London, walk down the aisle beaming her beautiful smile. This was my fourth indication.

This morning I woke, got up, prepared the coffee pot, went down for the paper and was sitting in my usual spot reading the news. “Good morning dear,” I said as she walked out of the bedroom. “Hi honey bunny,” she said cheerfully. This was my 13,505th indication. It has been 37 years.