February 2009
The first time I met Lynne, the home’s volunteer coordinator, she set me up on a Valentine’s Day date with Vern.
Vern’s lady friend lives in a nursing home in Ocean Shores, so he had been looking for someone a little closer to join him for the annual dress-up dinner.
Lynne arranged for us to meet the next week.
Vern stood to shake my hand and pulled out my chair. He looked a lot like Dennis Hopper, but without the Hollywood dental plan.
He told me about his lady friend, about his busy life and about his time in the war. Vern said he was a gunner in Vietnam. He sat in the open part of the helicopter, "shooting at anything that moved."
"It’s the kind of thing that can really mess up your mind," Vern said.
"I can imagine," I said. But I really can’t.
At dinner, Vern gave me a beautiful corsage, and we posed for official pictures. While we ate, Vern told me he wasn't like most men out there these days (which I had sensed the first time he pulled out my chair). Then, to prove his point, after dinner he asked whether he could walk me to my car. He hugged me goodbye, opened my car door and watched as I drove away. Vern was right. He's not just a regular man; he's a gentleman.
The first time I met Lynne, the home’s volunteer coordinator, she set me up on a Valentine’s Day date with Vern.
Vern’s lady friend lives in a nursing home in Ocean Shores, so he had been looking for someone a little closer to join him for the annual dress-up dinner.
Lynne arranged for us to meet the next week.
Vern stood to shake my hand and pulled out my chair. He looked a lot like Dennis Hopper, but without the Hollywood dental plan.
He told me about his lady friend, about his busy life and about his time in the war. Vern said he was a gunner in Vietnam. He sat in the open part of the helicopter, "shooting at anything that moved."
"It’s the kind of thing that can really mess up your mind," Vern said.
"I can imagine," I said. But I really can’t.
At dinner, Vern gave me a beautiful corsage, and we posed for official pictures. While we ate, Vern told me he wasn't like most men out there these days (which I had sensed the first time he pulled out my chair). Then, to prove his point, after dinner he asked whether he could walk me to my car. He hugged me goodbye, opened my car door and watched as I drove away. Vern was right. He's not just a regular man; he's a gentleman.
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