She's Sherrie

Oh Sherrie David was back home on emergency leave.  I was so happy to see him.  He had lost weight, but at least he had some hair now.  But he was different; he wasn't as happy.  I figured it was because of the death of his friend from California.  He couldn't talk about it; he tried and had to stop.  Clearly, he was distraught and had a different perspective on his mortality, as I found out later.  At 20, he shouldn't feel that way.  That is what death and wars do to people, it engraves bad memories and sorrow in their brains, and those feelings never go away.  Right now, in 2016, he has never been to The Vietnam War Memorial; he just won't or can't go. He would pick me up from work with his brother, and we would go back to Paul's house in Woodbridge.  Everyone wanted to see him, but he was a little bit detached and quiet.  He said he had outgrown some of the shenanigans that his friends were still doing; he thought they were childish and stupid.  We mo

Sherrie, Alone Again  Lonely days, lonely nights, where would I be without my baby?  Lost, I was lost.  I was miserable, and I was unhappy.  I felt like I was in a fog; everything was muffled and distant.  That first week after David left, I was just a zombie; I didn't care about anything or anybody.  I just went through the motions.  When I got home from work, I would go to my room, turn on the radio and go to bed with tissues at my side. I didn't want anyone to ask me how I was, or especially tell me that everything would be alright.  Almost any conversation made me feel worse. I watched the news at night, glued to the reports of the "conflict" in Vietnam.  I think I was hoping that I would see David, stupid me.  I didn't even know where he was yet and wouldn't until I got my first letter from him.  The news was always bad on TV.  Generally, the reports' backdrop would be troops fighting, on the move, or worse, showing casualties.  There was

David A new school year, the final school year.  Things were going well.  I had three classes and then reported to work at 2:00 P.M. at Iverson Mall.  At 6 P.M., I was on my way home.  I  would go home and do my homework, eat a little dinner, and watch TV.  I would check in with Shelley and Judy and go to bed about midnight.  Pretty tame. In September, I turned 17.  It was just another day.  One year closer to 18, one year closer to leaving home.  I wasn't sure what I was going to do; my only plan was to leave. A few days after my birthday, the following Sunday, Shelley and I were sound asleep.  She had spent the night, and we stayed up late talking and listening to music.  We usually would sleep until noon or so.  At about 9:30, my mom came in and woke us up.  We had company.  What!  Not at 9:30 in the morning, tell whoever we are asleep and call or come back later.  I think I said that.  We immediately went back to sleep.  Knock, knock, knock.  Really, again?  Mom told m

Shelley still had about a year left before she would be in high school.  She had come a long way. She no longer dressed like a dork; she knew how to take care of her hair and apply makeup; she now had a lot of self-confidence, even with her braces. She would frequently go out with Steve and me.  So would her sister and her friend Gail.  Shelley and Karen had a little sister who was about 3 years old.  Since their mom and dad both worked, Shelley would babysit her frequently.  We found out that if we took her little sister Dee with us, they were allowed to go anywhere.  I guess they figured either we wouldn't take her anyplace weird, or they thought she would tattle on them if they did something odd.  They were so wrong.  Shelley would say we were going to the zoo, and of course, we didn't.  But we would drill her to make sure she gave the right answers if mom and dad asked her any questions.  For example, we would say things like, "Dee, what did you think of the mon

I had two really close friends in high school, Shelley and Judy.  This story is my tribute to Shelley.  Shelley was the daughter of the apartment manager in the Southview community.  She was one year younger than me, so she was still in junior high when I met her.  Her dad had told her that she had to meet me and be nice to me because I had just moved to Maryland and didn't know anyone.  That meeting never took place because she wasn't interested in forced friendship, and I didn't blame her for feeling that way. I finally got to know her after about a month.  She was one of the kids that would hang out at the drug store after the school bus dropped us off.  Since she was still in junior high, there was always a lot of teasing her about her need to grow up.  She was a cute girl, but someone had given her a bad perm that ruined her hair's appearance.  It was just frizzy and ugly.  And she didn't know how to style it or manage the frizz.  We lived in a very high humi

After the drunk and wounded episode with Kim, her boyfriend Steve decided that he would be safer and happier if he stopped seeing her.  I didn't know that they had broken up until the weekend when Steve and David came to pick me up, and Steve was alone. Steve didn't mind bringing David up and seemed to be fine with going solo.  Sometimes he would bring another guy along to keep him company, and sometimes a couple of my female friends would go with us.  Kim was never mentioned; it was as if she vanished. Now that it was warmer weather, we would often go to Fort Washington, an old fort on the Potomac River, on Sundays.  It was a good place to hang out, with plenty of secluded areas where underage drinkers could imbibe and party.  We could buy fast food and have a picnic and drink.  There were plenty of local kids hanging out all over the park grounds doing the same thing we were, but we were never bothered by park rangers.  I would say that most of the visitors to the par

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.  Tho