Thru the Fire…

I’d like to say that I knew we were supposed to be together from the first time I saw him hanging out with a bunch of guys, drinking beer at a duck pond in New Orleans, but that would be a lie. It wasn’t until weeks later when both ended up at a mutual friend’s house when I jokingly smarted off to him and ran, he chased me into a bathroom and kissed me. I still, all these years later describe that moment as electric, it was like our hearts (no, our souls) knew each other, an instant connection. This was who God intended me to spend my life with, from that moment on we were in love.

As I said, Sherman had been kicked out of school, the same school that I was now attending. When the Dean of Students (who knew Sherman, because he’d kicked him out a year or so earlier) saw us walking together one evening, he took it upon himself to call my parents and report my behavior. He thought that I, a university scholar on full academic scholarship, should “make better choices in the company I kept.” My parents were furious, I’d never been in trouble and now they were getting calls for the administration about my behavior. That didn’t matter, I was in love and Sherman had asked me to marry him.

I told my parents that I was in love and wanted to get married. My father’s first question was, “are you pregnant?” I replied, “No, I’m in love” and was quickly forbid to marry “that boy”. Of course, I was 18 and didn’t need my parents’ permission to get married. So we got a marriage license, went to the Orleans Parish court house and got married. I knew in my heart that I saw a Sherman, that no one else saw, a loving, caring man who was willing to turn his life around for me.

We heard one thing from everyone, “You’ll never make it! It won’t last.” From our parents, the school administration, even our friends.