My roommate and I decided to move to Charleston from Columbia. We were both dating sailors stationed in Charleston and thought...what the heck...lets move. My roommate was very serious with her guy and I think they were even engaged. I was just starting to date my new guy. It just seemed like a good time to move back home. We moved in with a girl we had met on a previous trip to Charleston who was looking for 2 roommates. She live in a very nice apartment complex with lots of singles and a huge pool. It was really ideal for us.
On our very first night in the apartment, we went out to the Air Force Officer's Club. It was a Friday night and they always had a great band and lots of dancing. Well, I was sitting at the bar and across the room, I see this guy looking at me...I think he's cute, so I smile back....in a little while, he comes over and introduces himself. His name was Patrick and he was really cute. We danced every dance and closed the place down. He went home with me that same night. He left early in the morning and called me later that day to see if we could get together that night. To make a long story short....we stayed together for the next 7 nights. On that 7th day, I got roses sent to my office...I'll never forget the card....it said "to Lawrence of Arabia...7 days and 7 nights". He was a Naval Officer and he made it clear to me right from the start that he wanted to have fun and had no intention of marrying ANYONE...EVER. I liked him a lot, but really didn't have marriage on my mind either. However, looking back on the entire situation, I know now that I was on a mission to change him...show him that marriage could be a good thing. We dated for a year and a half exclusively. He had a bad temper sometimes for no reason at all. I hated that and if I had any sense at all, I would have called it off right then and there. But something inside of me just couldn't let go. When he would lose his temper, he would always apologize and say it wouldn't happen again...etc. He never hit me or anything like that. But he would throw food on the floor if he didn't like what I cooked or scream at me if I didn't do something just like he wanted. I was a fool. I thought if I kept my tail between my legs, he would see that I was a good person. I really think it had become a CHALLENGE for me.
Well, one day he came home from work and said that he had received orders to be stationed at Fort Knox, Ky and he said that he loved me and wanted to be with me the rest of our lives. He went on to say he didn't want to get married, but would I wait for him and we could be together during his time there with visits, etc. I told him that if he left without me, I could not make any promises about being here for him (bad mistake on my part)...so, one way or the other...he asked me to marry him and go with him.
Our best friends at the time was a married couple and we spent most of our spare time and dates at their house and doing things with them. They kept encouraging us to get married (I guess misery loves company) Patrick would later tell me that he felt PRESSURED by this couple to go through with the marriage!! I had plenty of doubts about whether or not I was doing the right thing. It just didn't feel right to me. I didn't really believe that he loved me and I had doubts about my love too. I was 27 years old and somehow, felt like it was now or never.
We did have a beautiful ceremony at the Gazebo on the Battery. He hired a horse and carriage. We had the full dress military with the swords...and 3 girls playing harps...It was really beautiful. My sister, Mary Lou was Maid of Honor and Al Kreutner was Pat's best man. After the ceremony, we had the reception on one of the harbour tour boats. It was all so perfect.
Except for the fact that Pat and I both had WAY too much to drink. Somehow, we got back to the Mills House where we were gonna spend our wedding night. There were 2 beds in the room and he passed out on one and I passed out on the other one.
Our honeymoon was a sailboat trip from Charleston to Hilton Head. As soon as we returned from that we headed to Fort Knox and his new duty station. We were married on June 3rd, 1972 and soon after we moved into our small apartment, the 4th of July was approaching and we decided to take a weekend trip up to Ohio where his parents were camping. It was the trip home from this trip that the horrible accident happened and my legs were injured. I spent the next 13 months in the hospital and Pat and I never really lived together as husband and wife after that. I stayed with him to help him finish his Master's Thesis but he had his bedroom and I had mine. We knew it was over!! In fact, we both knew it should never have taken place. We were divorced on May 22, 1976.
I was angry at him for years, for not staying beside me like a faithful husband. He didnt visit in the hospital very often and resented the fact that my mother was living with him. She would spend all day, ever day with me at the hospital. I needed her there especially because he just didn't love me anymore and we were staying together only for my medical care.
When I moved home with my mother, I swore I'd never marry again...this was my 2nd marriage and I didn't want to try again. I bought a nice little house, mom moved in with me and we were happy (most of the time)....It was May 1974 when I moved home with mom. I still needed more surgery and I just didn't know what the future held for me. Pat had a new girlfriend and they were living together.
That was actually more than I wanted to know!
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