Born to be Soul-Mates
The minister who presided at the marriage of his daughter Karmen to my grandson Mike began his inspirational sermon with: “When each of you were in your mother’s wombs, God had already planned to bring you together as husband and wife”.
All the way home in the car I thought of what the minister had said. Did God have a master plan that brought Jean and me together!
Isaiah, the prophet, who predicted most of the life of Jesus, could not have predicted the marriage of Jean Veil and Bob Stock. Ostensibly, there were too many differences in their lives. They grew up in different environments and cultures: Jean in Cresson and Bob in Sankertown, two towns separated by the Pennsylvania Railroad.
Sankertown was a rough-and-tumble town with many fights and brawls occurring. Cresson was a typical small, peaceful town. There was obvious contention between the people of the two towns.
The Sankertown families were mainly Italian and Polish. The men worked in the coal mines and on the railroad. The Cresson families were mainly German and English. The men were mostly professionals: business men, lawyers, dentists, school teachers.
My dad was a railroader; her dad was a major league baseball player (the town hero) who later became the Justice of the Peace. After her dad died, her mother succeeded him.
Jean was a Presbyterian; I was a Catholic. In a mixed marriage the non-Catholic person must promise that the children will be baptized in the Catholic Church. The Catholic must strive for the conversion of the non-Catholic person by prayer and good example. The Catholic Church considered it a sin to participate in a non-Catholic worship service.
The Cresson and Sankertown boys and girls attended Cresson High School. They did not associate with each other, in the study hall, they sat in different sections. They didn’t date with one another - barely talked with one another.
Jean and I attended Cresson High School at the same time for three years; she was a year ahead of me. I was formally introduced to her when I was a junior. One afternoon, after class she was sitting with her steady boyfriend, Paul, in the study hall. As I walked by, Paul said, “Bob, I want you to meet Jean Veil”. I said, “Nice meeting you, Jean”. Without even lifting her head off his shoulder and looking at me, she muttered “Oh, Hi”. I walked away thinking “Boy, that was cold”.
Later on in the year, I had a confrontation with Jean. Someone was sitting in the seat in the study hall where I usually sat, so I found a seat where the Cresson students usually sat; it happened to be Jean’s self-proclaimed seat. When she saw me sitting there, she hovered over me with hands on her hips, with rancor in her voice, she said, “You’re sitting in my seat”. I replied, “There are no reserved seats”. The Principal heard the heated argument, hurriedly came to the back of the room, and said, “Bob, this has been her seat all year”. I relented and gave up the seat. After the Principal walked away I, in a low voice said, “You think your ass weighs a ton”. She had the last word when she replied, “A typical vulgar Sankertown remark.” This was the second and last time I spoke with Jean Veil in the three years we were both students in Cresson High School.
Jean and I had different personalities. She was one of the most popular girls in the school. She was vivacious, charming, full of life, always with a smile on her face. She had many dates from the time she was a freshman. Paul, the President of the Senior Class, was her steady boyfriend when they were both seniors. Their relationship continued after they graduated. She was intelligent and was the valedictorian of her class.
My main interest in high school was to be the top student in my class. Having attended St. Francis Xavier Elementary School, one of my motivating factors was to prove a catholic school education was superior to a public school education. The main motivation was that I was from Sankertown. All four years I had the reputation of all I did was study. I did play intermural football and basketball. Both coaches were after me to play on the varsity teams. I told them it would take too much of my study time.
I never had a date until I dated Jean; she was my first and last date. The following year after her graduation, she became the secretary to the school’s Supervising Principal. I was a senior. I saw her every day, scampering up and down the halls with a sheaf of papers in her hands. Occasionally we met and exchanged a casual “Hi”. I didn’t have the least intension of dating her.
One cold blustery night in February 1942, two of my friends, Don and Joe, and I were cruising in Joe’s parent’s car. We picked up Jean and her two girlfriends coming home from a basketball game. Jean ended up on my lap in the crowded backseat of the car. Cruising around town, we had some casual conversation about school activities. I had a difficult time concentrating – my hormones were at an all-time high. When I was escorting her to the front door, she looked over her shoulder and slyly asked “Well, what do you think?” Taken aback, I said, “What?” She said, “Does it still weigh a ton?” I replied, “Still 1800 lbs.” After a good laugh, I blurted out, “How about going to the roller skating party with me?” Visibly surprised, she hesitated to answer, walked to the front door, unlocked it, turned around and said, “I’ll let you know”. As I walked back to the car, I thought, “It’s not going to happen”.
A couple of days went by and I had given up hope, but the following Wednesday as I was leaving school, she met me outside the door and said, “I’m not much of a roller skater, but I would be pleased to go to the party with you”. We went to the party with Don and his girlfriend. He drove his parent’s car. After the party we went to the Dairy Dell in Ebensburg and each had a hot fudge sundae. We had a wonderful fun night. At her front door when I started to say Good Night, she put her arms around me and kissed me; it wasn’t a mother’s kiss. As the song says, “Chills went up and down my spine and a feeling I couldn’t define”. She turned around and walked into the house, leaving me standing there, startled.
This was the beginning of our Love Affair.
We had frequent weekend dates. We went to the movies and talked and necked on the family’s couch, while listening to the big bands on the radio. I considered her my steady girlfriend, despite her occasional dates with other guys.
On Easter weekend, two months after our first date, I had to visit my sister, who had Multiple Sclerosis in a New York hospital. I constantly thought about Jean the entire weekend. When I returned home on Tuesday, my friend Don told me she had gone out on Easter Monday with Paul, her high school sweetheart, to the Sunset Ballroom in Carolltown. A big name band was playing. All day Tuesday and Wednesday I was so noticeably depressed that my math teacher asked me if I was sick. After much thought, I decided to ask Jean to be my steady girlfriend. I made a date to see her Wednesday night. When I entered the hall in the house, she came running out of the living room, threw her arms around me and gave me a long sensuous kiss. When our lips parted I said, ‘I heard you went out on a date with Paul Monday night”. Tears began to well up in her eyes and run down her cheeks. She hugged me and laid her head on my shoulder. I said, “Jean, I want you to be my steady girlfriend”. Wiping her eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater, she said “YES – YES – YES! I don’t ever want to date anyone else!”
When Jean’s sister Bette and her brother Bucky realized how serious we were in our relationship, they questioned her dating me, a boy from Sankertown. My brother Joe and Bette were classmates in high school; she told Jean that he’s a hooligan. Bucky said, “When he was a teenager, he was afraid to cross the tracks for fear of being beaten up!!" Despite their objections, we continued to date.
On June 9, 1942, I attained my goal and graduated from Cresson High School, the valedictorian of my class. I also was awarded a scholarship to St. Francis College in Loretta, PA.
My dad tried to get me a summer job on the railroad, but was unsuccessful, since I had to be eighteen. I did make