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Oh yes, I surely did. Not many of us ever meets "The One." We meet and marry those who fit our requirements the closest, but rarely does anyone meet the one that you know instantly was put on this earth for YOU and you alone.
Sit back and relax a bit because while I'm going to leave out less important parts of the story, it's all true. But it's going to be a bit long, anyway.
I met Joyce McKinley, a traveling saleslady for Mattel Toys, On July 18, 1979. I was still driving semis nationwide. This time I was headed to St. Paul, MN with a 42 ft. trailer full of 55 gallon drums of oil I'd picked up from Phillips Petroleum in Kansas City. It was the only load in a 9 year career that I was ever deliberately late delivering. It nearly got me fired, but it would've been worth it.
I looked in my mirror and saw this Chevy Malibu hanging back by my trailer tandems. NOT a good place to be if I have to swing out suddenly, and I got on the CB radio and told the driver so, and not too politely, either. I was PISSED.
Well, I instantly heard this voice from heaven come back with a ton of apologies while she sped up and drove past me. As she came by the driver's side of the rig, I looked down to the the most fantastic set of legs I'd seen in ages, and I was only 28 at the time. She then asked if she could make it up to me by stopping at the now long gone Standard Truck Stop in Des Moines, IA so she could buy me either coffee or lunch to mend fences. I was stunned, because if the rest of her looked as good as those legs that passed me in her car did, if I was going to die that very day, it would be with a smile you couldn't get off my face with a bench grinder!
To shorten this a bit, she wanted to see the inside of my cab, so I helped her climb up there. I apologized because I had to put both my hands under her magnificent bottom. She smiled and said, "No offense taken."
I thought, "Oooh, I like this girl already."
I didn't yet know she was nearly four years older than I was. Hell, she looked YOUNGER than I did, and I didn't yet have a line in my face. I always was guessed younger than I was until I was almost 40. THEN the lines appeared seemingly overnight. That's a story for another day though......
Anyway, she was headed for Hartley, IA and I to St. Paul, so we both headed north on I-35. If I'd have kept going I'd have made it to my drop point with more than enough time to spare, but it didn't work out that way.
Not at all.
There used to be a big truckstop called The Boondocks situated off I-35 way north of Des Moines. Across the street was, I THINK, a Motel 6 or something similar. Anyway, we ate a late supper at the truckstop and talked well into the evening. Oh, did I mention she was GORGEOUS?!
5'7" tall, 145 lbs. 38, 24, 38. The proverbial hourglass figure. She had stunning almost black eyes and almost back hair, yet the whitest skin I'd ever seen. Small highly arched feet. Her smile would've melted an iceberg. When we were leaving the truckstop, she said she was going to get a room at the motel across the street. She then took my hand and asked if I could spend the night with her. I knew if I did I'd be late with the delivery, which is NOT a good thing in trucking. But there was NO way I was going to pass up the chance to stay with such a gorgeous creature.
She was the sweetest, most kind girl I'd ever met. Not a mean bone in her Black Irish body. The dark hair, dark eyes, and very light skin are characteristics of "Black Irish." Anyway, we wore each other out all night long, and I was in terrific shape in those days. We exchanged phone #'s early the next morning. I swore the next time I was headed to KC that I'd call and let her know.
I never saw her again.
I never made it back down to KC for over 2 years, though when I finally did, I tried to call her. The number was disconnected. To say I was crushed and heartbroken would've been an understatement.
For the last 46 years, I've looked for her on and off. I'm now 73. She'd be either 76 or 77, and yes, I know neither of us would look remotely like we did in 1979. But I'd give my right arm to see her again because at one time, we BOTH were going home to end the lives we had and start a new one together. If that had happened, we still would've been together. Never in my life could I have loved a woman more, and I've loved more than a few in my time. But never like her.
Never.
I do know what losing a mate's like, though. The woman I met and married years later died of brain cancer in 1999. We'd been together 10 and half years and married for 8 and a half. Watching someone you love die a day at a time for 14 months is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. She and I were good together for the time we had. And it took years to get over her loss.
But she wasn't "The One." No one after her has ever been, either.
I've lived alone for quite some time, and I can't say it's all that bad. I'm too old to prowl around for poontang anymore, and I rarely get lonely, anyway. There's good and bad being with someone and also being by yourself, but at this stage of my life, I don't want to burden any good woman if something happens to me, though I wouldn't mind blistering the ass of a pretty female or two sometimes. Even that's hard to come by in these parts nowadays.
Anyway.....
From what I did find, the trail seems to end in Fairfield, Ohio. Joyce must have relocated there at some point. If it IS her, she died of cancer in 1987 and is buried there. She still would've been a young woman. If we HAD gotten together, I would've been utterly crushed knowing I was going to lose her. Cancer's almost never instantaneous. I well know, because I buried a wife who had it and several friends over time, too.
One thing I and everyone else someday finds out. "Forever" can be a much shorter time than you think.
Anyway, I've not spoken about Joyce in a very long time, so I hope whomever reads this enjoys it at least a little. It's true. It happened. And though I lost her, she made a permanent impression on my, at the time, young life. I've met no one before or since that could truly take her place. She was one of a kind, and I was lucky enough to have met and been with her, if only for one time.
Sit back and relax a bit because while I'm going to leave out less important parts of the story, it's all true. But it's going to be a bit long, anyway.
I met Joyce McKinley, a traveling saleslady for Mattel Toys, On July 18, 1979. I was still driving semis nationwide. This time I was headed to St. Paul, MN with a 42 ft. trailer full of 55 gallon drums of oil I'd picked up from Phillips Petroleum in Kansas City. It was the only load in a 9 year career that I was ever deliberately late delivering. It nearly got me fired, but it would've been worth it.
I looked in my mirror and saw this Chevy Malibu hanging back by my trailer tandems. NOT a good place to be if I have to swing out suddenly, and I got on the CB radio and told the driver so, and not too politely, either. I was PISSED.
Well, I instantly heard this voice from heaven come back with a ton of apologies while she sped up and drove past me. As she came by the driver's side of the rig, I looked down to the the most fantastic set of legs I'd seen in ages, and I was only 28 at the time. She then asked if she could make it up to me by stopping at the now long gone Standard Truck Stop in Des Moines, IA so she could buy me either coffee or lunch to mend fences. I was stunned, because if the rest of her looked as good as those legs that passed me in her car did, if I was going to die that very day, it would be with a smile you couldn't get off my face with a bench grinder!
To shorten this a bit, she wanted to see the inside of my cab, so I helped her climb up there. I apologized because I had to put both my hands under her magnificent bottom. She smiled and said, "No offense taken."
I thought, "Oooh, I like this girl already."
I didn't yet know she was nearly four years older than I was. Hell, she looked YOUNGER than I did, and I didn't yet have a line in my face. I always was guessed younger than I was until I was almost 40. THEN the lines appeared seemingly overnight. That's a story for another day though......
Anyway, she was headed for Hartley, IA and I to St. Paul, so we both headed north on I-35. If I'd have kept going I'd have made it to my drop point with more than enough time to spare, but it didn't work out that way.
Not at all.
There used to be a big truckstop called The Boondocks situated off I-35 way north of Des Moines. Across the street was, I THINK, a Motel 6 or something similar. Anyway, we ate a late supper at the truckstop and talked well into the evening. Oh, did I mention she was GORGEOUS?!
5'7" tall, 145 lbs. 38, 24, 38. The proverbial hourglass figure. She had stunning almost black eyes and almost back hair, yet the whitest skin I'd ever seen. Small highly arched feet. Her smile would've melted an iceberg. When we were leaving the truckstop, she said she was going to get a room at the motel across the street. She then took my hand and asked if I could spend the night with her. I knew if I did I'd be late with the delivery, which is NOT a good thing in trucking. But there was NO way I was going to pass up the chance to stay with such a gorgeous creature.
She was the sweetest, most kind girl I'd ever met. Not a mean bone in her Black Irish body. The dark hair, dark eyes, and very light skin are characteristics of "Black Irish." Anyway, we wore each other out all night long, and I was in terrific shape in those days. We exchanged phone #'s early the next morning. I swore the next time I was headed to KC that I'd call and let her know.
I never saw her again.
I never made it back down to KC for over 2 years, though when I finally did, I tried to call her. The number was disconnected. To say I was crushed and heartbroken would've been an understatement.
For the last 46 years, I've looked for her on and off. I'm now 73. She'd be either 76 or 77, and yes, I know neither of us would look remotely like we did in 1979. But I'd give my right arm to see her again because at one time, we BOTH were going home to end the lives we had and start a new one together. If that had happened, we still would've been together. Never in my life could I have loved a woman more, and I've loved more than a few in my time. But never like her.
Never.
I do know what losing a mate's like, though. The woman I met and married years later died of brain cancer in 1999. We'd been together 10 and half years and married for 8 and a half. Watching someone you love die a day at a time for 14 months is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. She and I were good together for the time we had. And it took years to get over her loss.
But she wasn't "The One." No one after her has ever been, either.
I've lived alone for quite some time, and I can't say it's all that bad. I'm too old to prowl around for poontang anymore, and I rarely get lonely, anyway. There's good and bad being with someone and also being by yourself, but at this stage of my life, I don't want to burden any good woman if something happens to me, though I wouldn't mind blistering the ass of a pretty female or two sometimes. Even that's hard to come by in these parts nowadays.
Anyway.....
From what I did find, the trail seems to end in Fairfield, Ohio. Joyce must have relocated there at some point. If it IS her, she died of cancer in 1987 and is buried there. She still would've been a young woman. If we HAD gotten together, I would've been utterly crushed knowing I was going to lose her. Cancer's almost never instantaneous. I well know, because I buried a wife who had it and several friends over time, too.
One thing I and everyone else someday finds out. "Forever" can be a much shorter time than you think.
Anyway, I've not spoken about Joyce in a very long time, so I hope whomever reads this enjoys it at least a little. It's true. It happened. And though I lost her, she made a permanent impression on my, at the time, young life. I've met no one before or since that could truly take her place. She was one of a kind, and I was lucky enough to have met and been with her, if only for one time.
BuzzedLightyear · 61-69
@Strapmaster DANG!!!
Strapmaster · 70-79, M
@Lostpoet - Oh yes. That, she truly was. Sometimes I can't remember what I did five minutes ago, but her face has remained as sharp in my mind as the day I met her. I can't help but sometimes ponder what my life would've been like had we remained together. As I said, not many of us ever meet "The One." I was one of the rare fortunate ones to do so.
