When I was a 17-year-old girl in Corpus Christi, Texas, then a small city at the bottom of America, Naval cadets came for ROTC training at the Naval Air Station there every summer and the “town girls” were invited to dances and dinners for them.
I had a fun summer fling with one cadet, but he kept talking incessantly about his friend Tom Mantle, to the point where it was annoying. I finally asked him why he was so obsessed with this guy. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Because that’s the man you will someday marry.”
Summer ended and I didn’t hear from the cadet for over a year. Then he called out of the blue, inviting me to homecoming weekend at the University of Missouri at Columbia. Having nothing better to do, I accepted and got on a Greyhound bus. I was met at the station, not by the summer fling, but by the infamous Tom Mantle. By the end of the week, we were living together.
Tom was born in Missouri in 1946. His father and uncle owned a sandwich shop in East St. Louis and his mother took care of everything else. He graduated from high school in St. Louis and attended college at the University of Missouri at Columbia majoring in political science. After we met in 1964, he dropped out. We were married in 1965.