Newlywed Love (#102)

Posted on November 5, 2017 by Margaret

September 26, 1970

(Continued….)

As two young men in a small car continued to follow me home from school, my fear grew. I tried to make sense of their tailgating, puzzling over what their intentions were and why they picked me.

Gut instinct told me I might be in some real trouble. Had they just randomly seen me as I turned onto the expressway ramp? Or had they watched me get into my car in the school parking lot? Did they know where I worked?

One thing was sure: I couldn’t lead them to where I lived. But where would I go?

Questions tumbled into my mind, distracting me from driving. I was in the left lane going 80 mph in a car that sounded like it was about to explode when their car came alongside on the right, both men glaring at me. I tried not to look, not to show fear.

When I was half way home, they swerved to my other side, coming up on the left. This was really dangerous, since they were then driving on the shoulder.

I wished with all my might a squad car would come out of nowhere with lights flashing to pull them over for reckless driving. When I saw a giant light pole coming in their path, I thought they were going to crash right into it! But they swerved back on the highway just in time.

I had read that if something like this ever happened, a driver should cause a minor accident to force another car and a “normal” driver into the situation – and also bring the police.

But snatching glances at the cars around me, I knew if I caused a crash, it would be fatal. We were going too fast. My heart was in my throat, and I began to think about Nate. Oh how I wished he was with me! What sensible thing would he suggest?

Dark despair flooded me. “Oh God!” I shouted. “Please, please help me! I don’t know what to do!”

We continued on, and as we came within 10 miles of home, very suddenly these men pulled to the far right and zoomed off an exit ramp — and they were gone! I felt like wailing with relief but knew I had to hold myself together to get safely home.

As I got off the highway several miles later, I came to the first stop sign of my journey and went to downshift. That’s when I realized I’d driven 40 miles at high speed with the car in 2^nd gear the whole way. No wonder it had resisted my push on the gas pedal and sounded so loud! Oh, how I hoped I hadn’t ruined the engine.

I pulled in front of our building and raced up the steps two at a time, bursting through the door and throwing myself into Nate’s arms – and the anguished wailing came out.

He held me tightly, waiting for me to calm down enough to tell him – and after I did, I stayed wrapped in that place of safety for a long, long time.

“They attacked me at a moment when I was in distress, but the Lord supported me. He led me to a place of safety.” (Psalm 18:18-19)

Newlywed Love (#101)

Posted on November 3, 2017 by Margaret

September 21-26, 1970

Each week seemed to be busier than the one before, and Thursday of this week would include the 3 hour drive to Chicago and back for Mary’s surprise baby shower. She was due in two weeks, and there was no way I was missing this fun evening. Besides, my knitted sweater and hat were ready, and I couldn’t wait to give them to her.

Nate didn’t think it was wise to drive a 300 mile round trip for a couple of hours at a party, but I just had to go. My had principal refused to give me a day off, either that day or the next, so I planned to teach and then leave straight from school.

That part didn’t bother Nate, but thinking of me driving home late after a long, tiring day seemed to him like a recipe for falling asleep behind the wheel. “It’s risky,” he said.

But he knew how much I wanted to go, so the only solution was for him to go too – which he willingly offered. I tried to tell him I’d be fine, but with 4 driving accidents on my record, he didn’t like the odds.

Once I knew he’d be joining me, the plan became twice as fun. We agreed I would drive on the way while he studied; he would study during the event and then drive home.

The shower took place at a glamorous Chicago apartment in a glass-walled high-rise with a beautiful view of Lake Michigan. Mary was genuinely surprised when she walked in, and we loved showering her with gifts and good wishes.

The devotional, given by a friend named Judy, described mother- hood as a privilege and children as gifts. As I listened, I day-dreamed of becoming a mother… but knew it would have to wait for some distant day.

The dinner-shower went longer than we anticipated, and when Nate and I finally pulled into our Champaign neighborhood, it was nearly 3:00 AM. In my journal I wrote, Both of us were grogged.

Just a few hours after we’d fallen into bed, I was up and off to Danville for an all-day education workshop, hard to take on 3½ hours of sleep. I dozed through much of it and was bleary when I finally got back in the car to drive the 40 miles home.

As I drove up the ramp to get on I-74, a car behind me was tailgating so close I couldn’t believe it hadn’t bumped me. Noticing two young men who loomed large in my rear view mirror, I figured they must just be in a terrible hurry.

Once we blended into traffic, I expected them to go around me, but they didn’t. They stayed tight to my rear bumper no matter which lane I changed into or what speed I drove.

On top of that, my car began making a strange noise, seeming to resist my foot on the gas pedal, and I got scared. If I had to pull over, I knew those guys would pull over right behind me.

(Conclusion tomorrow)

“He will order his angels to protect you wherever you go.” (Psalm 91:11)

Newlywed Love (#97)

Posted on October 13, 2017 by Margaret

September 6-7, 1970

A blog note:

Our daughter Birgitta and granddaughter Emerald (right) will be arriving tonight for a happy weekend in Michigan.

Then on Monday, my college roommate Julie (below) will be coming with her friend Ming for the rest of the week.

Because of these festivities, the blog-saga of Meg and Nate’s newlywed year will be on hold for a week or so.

Eventually we’ll get them to their first wedding anniversary (November 29) before closing the book on them. First, though, let’s see how the 1970 Labor Day weekend finished out:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Lynn and Don’s wedding, Nate and I made a bee-line across two suburbs to Mom and Dad’s place in Wilmette – anticipating a reunion with our beloved doggie Baron. As soon as we saw him, Nate scooped him up and planted a kiss right on his nose. (Picture is of a second kiss the next day…)

We were astounded by how much he’d grown. Obviously, he was a happy, healthy poochie.

On Sunday, Mom hosted a mid-day dinner that doubled as a birthday party for Dad (#71) and brother Tom (#20), who was born on Dad’s 50^th.

Among the party guests was Tom’s good friend David (to the left of Tom), the guy who had become a regular babysitter for Baron. As the afternoon unfolded, Nate and I could see how close David and Baron had become, with “our” puppy responding better to him than to us.

On the drive back to Champaign early the next morning, we could see the writing on the wall. Since we had one more year in our apartment where dogs weren’t allowed, and since Mom and Dad seemed to continually be on the move, Baron would be spending more and more time with David — and end up in his family instead of ours.

Though we could rightfully claim him after our year in Champaign, by then that would be hard on both boy-and-dog. So, as we ticked off the miles toward home, we felt ourselves slowly accepting a difficult truth: we would need to begin separating from sweet Baron.

We drove along in silence trying to absorb this sad reality, and I remembered something David had said at the dinner. “I hope some day you’ll let me take care of Baron full time. That would be a dream come true for me. And my whole family already loves him.”

Though Nate was feeling low too, he came up with one positive thought. “I’m sure if Baron went with David, he’d let us visit him any time we came to town.” Since his family and ours were good friends through decades together at Moody Church, I knew that was true.

“Also,” Nate said, “letting your parents get out from under the responsibility we never should have put on them in the first place, is the right thing to do.” We both knew that, too.

By the time we pulled into our gravel parking spot behind the apartment, Nate and I reasoned that maybe the back story of why Baron had come to us at all was because God wanted us to deliver him to David. As hard as that was to think about, it would mean that everything was actually turning out the way it was supposed to be.