Oh yes, yes indeed, I will never forget that day, that most wondrous day, that day, the greatest day of my life, for that was the day I met her, I met the dream girl of my life. Yes we met on February 24, 1952, and it was such a bright sunny day, not a cloud in the sky, no wind, about ten below zero; for the beauty of the countryside was unbelievable. We had received over eighteen inches of snow in the past three days. And since it was cold, the pond was really frozen, and it was Valentine's Day, a beautiful Saturday, a day made for out-of-doors. So that Saturday morning we all went to the old mill to ice skate, drink hot cocoa, and just have a good time. Oh yes, that was the day.

And here I am back there again, February 24, 2002, fifty years, fifty long years, one way you look at it, and an oh so short fifty years when you look at it another way. Gosh, as Jim turns off the present two lane asphalt road onto the snow-packed little dirt road which leads to the parking area, I say, "Stop, Jim, please stop for a second," and he does. I just look around, looking first at the water flowing, cascading over the spillway, and then to the old wooden water wheel.

In crosswords they call a mill adjunct a 'noria." The old stone building has withstood the rigors of the seasons and the roof is covered with a blanket of pure white snow. The windows are intact and have ice on them. I guess Fred and Jay Lee are not home. You cannot see the big rock chimney, which is on the far corner, but there seems to be no smoke.

A horn blows. A car full of kids behind us wants in, I surmise, to do some skating, or maybe it is the ice hockey team. "OK Jim, just park anywhere you can. And as we pulled into the parking lot, much, much larger now than it was back then, I remember that day. I remember how I had pulled into this area in my pride and joy, my 1928 Model A sedan. Man was I proud of that old car. I had worked two jobs to make enough to buy it. It cost me $62.50, yes sir, and it took me from the start of school until Christmas time to save that sixty-two dollars. I carried papers, morning and night, and fired furnaces for seven people in town.

Jim pulled the car in as close as he could then he wheeled me up to the little boardwalk there at the edge of the pond, and covered me with a heavy blanket. "Give me an hour please Jim," I said. "Go get yourself a cup of coffee and a piece of chess pie. I loved chess pie but could not eat it, and so I would have Jim go have a cup of black coffee and a piece of chess pie for me. Sort of silly but he knew that was my way of saying I wanted to be alone.

"You sure you will be OK?" Jim asked. He picked up the large heart-shaped wreath made with roses and took it to the other end of the pond where he stuck it in the ground near where she had fallen through the ice. Jim then came back to make sure I was OK. "And you have your beeper, you sure you got your beeper handy?" I lifted my hand to show him the little alarm radio transmitter I wore, so if I needed him, I could just push the button.

"Quit babying me Jim and go see Louise. Have your pie and coffee," I said, and he departed. There were twenty or thirty people skating, most of them teenagers or younger, about our age that day when we met. I looked across the pond and there was a boy and a girl standing by the small fire, just the two of them. He was about my height, and she shorter, but just a tad overweight, with brown hair. I looked closer at them and he had on an old army field jacket, blue jeans, and a blue sock cap with a pair of brown wool mittens. She had on a brown coat, with a long brown blue and gold knitted scarf, earmuffs and a pair of old Olive drab wool Army pants. I bet they were her dad's. Their faces were only about a foot or less apart and their hands were in their pockets, then out over the fire. They looked like they could not be still and each wanted to put their hands on the others but protocol and manners dictated otherwise.

And down on the other end of the pond some younger kids were trying to play ice hockey, using brooms for sticks and a flattened tin can for a puck. Then just to the right of me were two couples, one couple in their 50s and the other couple in their 20s, family I would suppose.

And so I sat and looked, and reminisced; reminisced of that day, right here fifty years ago today. And I looked across the lake and the young couple, they were we, even dressed the same, and I remembered how I had fallen and when I rolled over she had skated up and asked, "You OK," and I had laughed and gotten up and faked a twisted ankle.

She had helped me back to the bench and the warming fire. And we had talked and she had a whole half-gallon of hot cocoa. "What are you going to do with that much cocoa?" I asked, wondering why she was here by herself.

"Oh, I was supposed to meet three of my girlfriends here, and I was to bring the cocoa, one some cookies and one some popcorn, and we were going to skate then go to Mary's house for dinner, then to the movies, but they didn't show up and so I am here hoping my mom or dad will come by and check on me and give me a lift home." She gave me the lonely waif look. "I guess something happened and they couldn't make it. They will tell me tomorrow at church."

I told her my name and said I came over here and hoped to learn to skate, I had bought an old pair which were too small, but heck I got them for sixty-five cents. "I will take you home, for I have my car," I eagerly said.

"OK, if mom or dad don't come by." And we skated and skated and stood close to the fire and drank her cocoa. Her dad did come by and he must have thought me OK for he said I could take her home. And make sure it was before the sun went down. She was happy and so was I as we skated and skated some more, shucks she was a real good skater and taught me a lot.

And from that day forth, we were in love and spent a lot of time together whenever we could, and Mr. Graham who ran the mill, was kind of stove up so I would split him some wood and carry it in for him, and fill his coal buckets. He would let us sit in his kitchen when it was really cold or the ice was too thin to skate.

I was a senior in high school and already had been drafted and had my reporting date, the 3rd of June, the day after graduation. She was a Junior and her mom and dad wanted her to finish school and go to college. Since I was drafted for at least two years, we decided that is what she would do; then when I got out we would get married and decide what we would do then. So I worked the day after graduation, me and sixteen other guys from the town got on the Greyhound and headed for the Capitol and the Army.

For me it was through basic training, six weeks advanced infantry training and then off to Korea. I landed at Pusan on the 3rd of January and within three days was freezing and fighting. On our anniversary day, she went to the old mill, taking a jug of hot cocoa and skated all day, she and her brother and two girl friends. And she wrote me all about it. I spent our anniversary wading rice paddies and freezing as we were overrun and had to retreat.

My year was nearly up and normally I would have left on the 3rd of January but the Chinese put a stop to that, and so again she went to the mill on our anniversary. But this time she went by herself and was skating alone and fell through the ice and drowned. I did not learn of it till I got out of the hospital in Japan in late September. I was depressed and did not want to go home, so I got out of the hospital and volunteered for another tour. By that time there was a truce and not much fighting, but I made rank and then re-upped and went to Germany.

And so I spent 34 years, four months and 29 days in the US Army. Now I was never a drinker or carouser, but I did love to play poker and did make quite a bit of money over the years at it. When mom and dad said the old mill was up for sale, I had them buy it for me and had it made into a county park, a park named after her.

And I had finally returned, come back home to the place where my heart was broken. "Hey there, damn it is you, hey there." A raspy feminine voice brought me back to the world of reality.

I looked up and there they were, Fred and Jay Lee, my two best high school pals. Fred was my best buddy and Jay Lee was my sister, who was a year older than I. "Hi there, long time no see, gosh since 98 wasn't it?"

Fred grinned and I looked him up and down, standing there, still trim, not much of a pot belly and a head of white hair and a long black beard. "Glad to see you, what you think? Did we do it the way you wanted?" Fred grabbed my hand. "Jay Lee honey run on to the house and get a fire going and put on the pot for cocoa, please."

Jay Lee went to the house, for it was their and my desire that they live at the mill as long as they wished and take care of the little park. Of course I paid their salary and for all the upkeep, but they did not know it. Fred and I talked and then he wheeled me to the old stone mill and inside. Jim showed up and the four of us sat and talked till near midnight.

Oh how I wish she had not fallen through that ice and she and I were sitting here tonight. I do miss her and it has been 50 years, fifty long or short years, but I am glad I did come back for one last visit.

� Tom ([email protected])