Long Distance Love
Having a boyfriend that lives quite a distance away from you is not easy. Oxon Hill, Maryland, was probably about thirty miles away from Dumfries, Virginia. Back in the day, 1965, to be specific, it was quite a distance away. It was probably a 45 minute to an hour drive. The highway going to Richmond was under construction at that time, so once you made it to Woodbridge, you had to cut off 95 and travel down Route 1, the old highway. The speed limit was 35, and traffic lights block after block until you made it through Woodbridge. Today, this commute would be nothing because of the new highway systems.
David was my boyfriend. The problem was that he didn't have a car, so he relied on his friends for transportation to see me. Fortunately, his friend Steve was dating one of my friends, so long as they were together, things were good. When we would see each other, they would come and pick us up, and most of the time, we would go back to Dumfries, Triangle, or Stafford. Those guys spent a lot of time on the road going back and forth on Friday and Saturday nights. Frequently, if we were going back south, they would bring one of the older guys with a fake ID to buy beer in DC to take back with us. A little beer never hurt anyone, right?
Kim and I would tell our parents we were going to the movies or going to a party as long as we were back home by midnight, everything was fine. Her dad was a Gunny Sergeant in the Marines, and he didn't tolerate lateness or any excuse. Who wanted to face him if something went wrong? Not me. Not the guys. Normally we would either go to the drive-in movies, meeting up with about 20 other kids, or go to Quantico and drink and socialize down by the edge of the Potomac, behind rocks, hiding from the base cops. Then we also had a couple of other hang out places that were in the middle of nowhere. The problem was, Kim was an easy drunk and not a quiet one. If your dad is a mean Marine and you are his baby girl, it just isn't a good idea to be a sloppy drunk. Whenever she was around, there was always a chance that something would happen. She just couldn't drink and be calm; she was actually kind of wild. A lot of our date time was spent keeping her out of fights or sobering her up before we took her home.
The guys were kind of a junior biker wannabe gang. They had "colors" that they wore, and most had that biker mentality of raising hell. Their group was called the Tartans. Within this group, two guys were equal to Kim as far as drunken behavior. The three of them together were a dangerous combination. Many times David and Kim's date, Steve would have to spend time babysitting them to keep war from erupting. That's why we would just be partying out in remote areas a lot of times, and there were a lot of them back then.
When things were calm, David and I would do the normal, acceptable teenage things. Although I wasn't much of a drinker, we would drink, I would get high on one beer, and talk and kiss. Between the drive time back and forth and babysitting the wild ones, we really didn't get to spend lots of time with each other, but it was electric when we were. He would have died if he had known I was only 14. Sometimes he would say things that I wouldn't understand, it was obvious he was used to being with older girls, and I would just run things repeatedly through my brain trying to figure him out. He was nothing like any guy I had ever known or been around. Fortunately, he wasn't immature like most young guys were, he was beyond the acting stupid stage, so I had to make an effort not to act like a giggly, goofy teenage girl. I saved that for when I was not with him.
One night we were with a large group camping out over the weekend in a wooded area that the guys had built into a camping area. It was rough, hilly, terrain, gravely and pitch dark except for the campfire area. We were off to ourselves, enjoying the spring night; you could hear the usual suspects becoming loud and obnoxious in the distance. We just ignored them. After a while, we could hear that people were looking for Kim and couldn't find her. It was not a good thing because her mom and dad knew David's parents, and if anything happened to her, they would try and blame him. So, everybody started looking for her in the deep, thick woods, calling her name, but with no response. I was getting very anxious, something was wrong. I wouldn't recommend a group of drunks as a search party for another drunk. Finally, they found her passed out or knocked out, lying in a deep culvert. She had cuts and scrapes all over her face, her clothes were torn, and her shoes were missing. She was a big girl, tall, probably 5'10", and big-boned. Some of the guys were trying to pick her up, but she was still out cold, and she was dead weight. Someone brought ice and rubbed it on her face and neck, and she woke up and started crying. She had fallen down into that rocky gorge while drunk and remembered nothing, but all of her scratches and scrapes and twisted ankle were hurting her; everything was hurting. She didn't remember anything, but she looked like hell.
David, Steve, and I were panicking. How would we sober her up, clean her up, and hide all of her wounds? Her father was going to kill all of us. She didn't know how awful she looked. We couldn't let Steve face the music by himself, but we didn't want to have to face him either, especially me. We left and went to a Burger Chef in Woodbridge, got her some food and coffee, got her out of the car and into the bathroom to clean her up. There was no way to make her look any better. She had long blond hair down to her waist, and parts of her hair were caked in mud and blood. I felt hopeless. All I could think of was how bad it would be if we got stopped by the cops because she looked like she had been beaten and raped.
I came up with a plan to call her mom from a payphone when we got to Oxon Hill and ask her to spend the night with me. We made her practice the call over and over and over. If her mom said no, we were all dead meat. We stopped at the 7-11 in Oxon Hill and used the phone. We all stood behind her, I don't know why, but we did. She did a good job on the phone, and her mom said she could stay over. One hurdle down, now we had to get past my mom. Normally my mom would have the lights off and be watching TV, or she might be back in her room; I was hoping she would be in bed. Luck prevailed, she was. So we said bye to the guys quietly and off we went to my room.
What a night. Now she had to face her parents in the daylight, but at least she would be sober. She was going to tell them that she had turned her ankle on the grass by my entryway, and she fell on the concrete steps. Pretty hoakie sounding, but they believed it. I had a talk with her and told her that she couldn't drink anymore around us, that she could have gotten us all in a lot of trouble, and that we, including her boyfriend, were sick of babysitting her. If she was going to drink, then I wouldn't go, and her parents wouldn't let her go out in a car unless somebody else was with her. That would mess both of our love lives up. Fortunately, she agreed. But our double dating days were coming to an end; her boyfriend had had enough.
David was my boyfriend. The problem was that he didn't have a car, so he relied on his friends for transportation to see me. Fortunately, his friend Steve was dating one of my friends, so long as they were together, things were good. When we would see each other, they would come and pick us up, and most of the time, we would go back to Dumfries, Triangle, or Stafford. Those guys spent a lot of time on the road going back and forth on Friday and Saturday nights. Frequently, if we were going back south, they would bring one of the older guys with a fake ID to buy beer in DC to take back with us. A little beer never hurt anyone, right?
Kim and I would tell our parents we were going to the movies or going to a party as long as we were back home by midnight, everything was fine. Her dad was a Gunny Sergeant in the Marines, and he didn't tolerate lateness or any excuse. Who wanted to face him if something went wrong? Not me. Not the guys. Normally we would either go to the drive-in movies, meeting up with about 20 other kids, or go to Quantico and drink and socialize down by the edge of the Potomac, behind rocks, hiding from the base cops. Then we also had a couple of other hang out places that were in the middle of nowhere. The problem was, Kim was an easy drunk and not a quiet one. If your dad is a mean Marine and you are his baby girl, it just isn't a good idea to be a sloppy drunk. Whenever she was around, there was always a chance that something would happen. She just couldn't drink and be calm; she was actually kind of wild. A lot of our date time was spent keeping her out of fights or sobering her up before we took her home.
The guys were kind of a junior biker wannabe gang. They had "colors" that they wore, and most had that biker mentality of raising hell. Their group was called the Tartans. Within this group, two guys were equal to Kim as far as drunken behavior. The three of them together were a dangerous combination. Many times David and Kim's date, Steve would have to spend time babysitting them to keep war from erupting. That's why we would just be partying out in remote areas a lot of times, and there were a lot of them back then.
When things were calm, David and I would do the normal, acceptable teenage things. Although I wasn't much of a drinker, we would drink, I would get high on one beer, and talk and kiss. Between the drive time back and forth and babysitting the wild ones, we really didn't get to spend lots of time with each other, but it was electric when we were. He would have died if he had known I was only 14. Sometimes he would say things that I wouldn't understand, it was obvious he was used to being with older girls, and I would just run things repeatedly through my brain trying to figure him out. He was nothing like any guy I had ever known or been around. Fortunately, he wasn't immature like most young guys were, he was beyond the acting stupid stage, so I had to make an effort not to act like a giggly, goofy teenage girl. I saved that for when I was not with him.
One night we were with a large group camping out over the weekend in a wooded area that the guys had built into a camping area. It was rough, hilly, terrain, gravely and pitch dark except for the campfire area. We were off to ourselves, enjoying the spring night; you could hear the usual suspects becoming loud and obnoxious in the distance. We just ignored them. After a while, we could hear that people were looking for Kim and couldn't find her. It was not a good thing because her mom and dad knew David's parents, and if anything happened to her, they would try and blame him. So, everybody started looking for her in the deep, thick woods, calling her name, but with no response. I was getting very anxious, something was wrong. I wouldn't recommend a group of drunks as a search party for another drunk. Finally, they found her passed out or knocked out, lying in a deep culvert. She had cuts and scrapes all over her face, her clothes were torn, and her shoes were missing. She was a big girl, tall, probably 5'10", and big-boned. Some of the guys were trying to pick her up, but she was still out cold, and she was dead weight. Someone brought ice and rubbed it on her face and neck, and she woke up and started crying. She had fallen down into that rocky gorge while drunk and remembered nothing, but all of her scratches and scrapes and twisted ankle were hurting her; everything was hurting. She didn't remember anything, but she looked like hell.
David, Steve, and I were panicking. How would we sober her up, clean her up, and hide all of her wounds? Her father was going to kill all of us. She didn't know how awful she looked. We couldn't let Steve face the music by himself, but we didn't want to have to face him either, especially me. We left and went to a Burger Chef in Woodbridge, got her some food and coffee, got her out of the car and into the bathroom to clean her up. There was no way to make her look any better. She had long blond hair down to her waist, and parts of her hair were caked in mud and blood. I felt hopeless. All I could think of was how bad it would be if we got stopped by the cops because she looked like she had been beaten and raped.
I came up with a plan to call her mom from a payphone when we got to Oxon Hill and ask her to spend the night with me. We made her practice the call over and over and over. If her mom said no, we were all dead meat. We stopped at the 7-11 in Oxon Hill and used the phone. We all stood behind her, I don't know why, but we did. She did a good job on the phone, and her mom said she could stay over. One hurdle down, now we had to get past my mom. Normally my mom would have the lights off and be watching TV, or she might be back in her room; I was hoping she would be in bed. Luck prevailed, she was. So we said bye to the guys quietly and off we went to my room.
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| Kim |
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