Monday went as a usual workday for me and when I returned to my hotel room that's when my life took a different direction. The message light on my telephone was blinking when I went into the room. I called the front desk and there was a message to call Dad. I knew something was wrong as he never called unless he had a real reason and even then I couldn't remember the last time he'd done that. Dad was calling to ask me if I had gotten in touch with Uncle George. I told him I'd not been able to find his name, address or telephone number anywhere. He said he had it because my Grandmother Cattell had called him to let him know that one of Uncle George's sons had killed - my cousin Michael who was my age. (Michael had stepped between a domestic argument and shot). Dad gave me the telephone number and address of Uncle George which had been supplied by Grandmother when Dad told her I "just happened" to have been in the area that day for the week.
I left almost immediately to go the house and see the family. When I arrived, I was greeted by relatives I'd not seen in a dozen years. After pleasantries had been exchanged, one of the cousins made mention that since I was single they had the perfect person for me to meet...their neighbor whose name was Junior Preston and he lived next door. That really excited me - being in Louisiana and meeting a guy named "Junior"! Sometime later, there was the roar of a motorcycle and my cousins started shouting "he's home...he's home". Oh, goodie. Someone went running out to bring this guy over so he could meet their single cousin from Georgia. I went into another room and tried to blend into the wood paneling hoping I wouldn't have to meet this guy. I heard the front door open, people began saying "Hey, Junior" and the voice of this mystery man came closer to the room I was hiding in. Then, there he was dressed in jeans,a flannel shirt, boots and with a moustache and beautiful hair. Holy Moly, I was in love. It was definitely love at first sight for me. I was smitten; I was bowled over; I was knocked for a loop...you name it, I was it. (This picture was made by my grandmother five days later). Junior was a babe to me. I remember describing him later as "rugged".
He came over, shook my hand, made some small talk and then turned to speak to someone. That's when I made my escape to the living room to the only seat left. I knew I had to stop sharing the same space as him because I couldn't breathe. A few minutes later, he walked into the living room and stood next to my chair. I knew I'd never see this guy again so I decided I could turn on some of my southern charm and said "here, I'll let you share my chair" while patting the armrest. He thanked me "no" and said he had to go pick his mother up at work. But then he said, "Would you like to go with me"? What do you think I said? We got into his car with bucket seats and I sat in the passenger side. He then asked what I was doing over there, plopped a cushion on the console and helped me sit next to him. I don't know what came over me, but I decided to flirt some more and told him if I lived there, I'd have to give the gals a run for their money. He seemed to like that. Then the guy that I'd met named "Junior" became "Les" to me and I never called him Junior ever, never.
We picked his Mom up and then took her home. Afterwards, Les followed me back to hotel room where we spent the night talking about anything and everything. When we both could talk no more, we then spent the night together in the purest of all senses. That's when I knew that I had met someone special. Someone who respected me and wanted to get to know the real me. It was the perfect date with the guy who would later become my husband.
I always believed that it was meant for the two of us to meet since I wasn't supposed to go to Shreveport at that time and we would never have met if my cousin Michael had not been killed. I felt like I was at the right place at the right time.
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