Tennis with Camille

By Thomas J. Caulfield

As my trip into fate continued, we arrived at the tennis court, parked, got ourselves onto the last court and began trying to hit the ball over the net. We did not do very well. The ball went into the net more than over it. The ball went over the high fencing surrounding the courts more than it went over the net. We were engaging in a true exercise in humility. We persisted in this manner for about fifteen minutesand then it happened!

At one point, I cant recall why, but I looked up at the far end of the courts. There was a girl. She entered the court area and slowly walked by all the courts as if looking for someone. As she did so she approached our court, which was at the end. In the meantime, I studied her as if she were a piece of moving art. I was holding the ball and getting ready to try to serve it over the net to Ron and Orv, but I paused. I scanned this vision walking toward me, but apparently not seeing me. She wore a white sailor cap, a white blouse, white shorts, white socks, and white sneakers. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and she carried herself like a true aristocrat. She also had a dark tan, which meant she had lots of time out in the healthy sun. Her back was straight, and she sort of glided, rather than walked.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Jun 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9781489701664

Thomas J. Caulfield

Thomas J. Caulfield joined the US Navy in 1955, and he served as a naval aviator at NAS Brunswick, Maine. Following his active duty flying a P2V patrol bomber, he became a Ready Reservist while simultaneously conducting his career in education as a teacher, guidance counselor, and college professor. He is now retired and a professor emeritus at Canisius College, and he lives in both New York and Florida.

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Copyright © 2014 Thomas J. Caulfield.

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ISBN: 978-1-4897-0168-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-0167-1 (hc)

ISBN:978-1-4897-0166-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014905898

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 01/02/2015

Contents

DEDICATION

JULY THIRD, 1952

OUR FIRST DATE

WILDWOOD BEACH

THE SUSPICION (DECEMBER 2006)

OUR SECOND DATE SHAPES UP

THE ACTUAL SECOND DATE

THE CONFIRMATION (FEBRUARY 2007)

THE HARVEST BALL

COURTSHIP

THE DOCTORS (DECEMBER 2006)

CAMILLE’S VISIT

A BIT OF A PROBLEM

CAMILLE GRADUATES

GETTING TO THE WEDDING

THE WEDDING

THE TREATMENT (2006-2010)

NAVY WIFE

BRUNSWICK, MAINE

THE FOUR YEAR MARK (2010)

NAVY OR CIVILIAN LIFE?

MAMA JENNIE

TAKING ITS TOLL (2010)

MAMA KITTY AND PAPA JOE

MY THREE GIRLS

THE BEGINNING OF THE END (2011)

CAMILLE’S CAREER

THE REST OF THE STORY

ARNIE’S EULOGY

POSTSCRIPT

Dedication

To Rena and Jennifer

and especially to

all those friends dear to Camille

and me

not mentioned in

this manuscript.

There are too many of you,

and to mention some might make others feel they did not matter.

Far from that. Every single one of you mattered to Camille and still to me.

Please forgive my not mentioning you.

I hope you will understand.

You made our lives complete…

P.S. I really have to thank my daughter Jennifer Van Petten and Nancy Seel, a dear friend, for the editing help they provided. They worked like slaves. This is the price they paid for loving Camille and doing their best to honor her memory. I know there are so many who would have helped me with this effort to honor my darling Camille had I asked.

Tennis with

Camille

July Third, 1952

I t will not matter to anyone else, but for me July third, 1952, was a hallmark date. For it was then that my life took a turn which would lead me into a world of wonderment.

I know not what I was doing before Ronnie Hite showed up at my back door that day. He had Orville Adam in tow. Orville was standing in our driveway and I could see him swinging a tennis racket trying to look like he was a tennis pro. I must admit, he did almost look the part. He had on white shorts and a white sweater with white sneakers. Orville always made it a point to be attired properly. All 5’10" and 130 pounds of him was propriety. His whitish blond hair only emphasized the point.

Ronnie, all 6’ 3, red hair, big smile, and 240 pounds of him, stood in the doorway and asked, Just what are you doing right now?"

I was guarded, because I knew Ronnie could sometimes come up with the craziest ideas of anyone I knew, but I said tentatively, Nothing… why?

He was quick on the uptake and said with confidence, Good, because I’m going to make your life sheer delight. We are going to go to Delaware Park and have a good time exercising and playing some tennis. Something none of us knows anything about. You need the exercise, we need the exercise and it’s a beautiful day, what do you say?

What could I say? It was July third, our college semester was fully over, tomorrow was the Fourth when everything was exciting and patriotic as the entire nation celebrated Independence Day. My plans for the Fourth were to go to the beach cottage with my sisters Faith and Denise and some of Faith’s nursing student friends. I had my eye on one or two of them as possible love interests, but wasn’t sure. I had no plans for today and Ron really looked like he wanted me to play tennis, despite our ignorance of the game. So, I said, OK. I’ll get the only tennis racket we have. You are not permitted to laugh despite the fact it is so old it’s missing some strings and the wood is warped. I have never played tennis, so it should be an experience if not fun. Let me find the racket!

I looked in the shed, it wasn’t there. Eventually I found it in my clothes closet upstairs. It really was warped. It sort of looked like it had a beer belly in the wood, it curved quite a bit. But the strings, what there was of them, were amazingly tight. All things, in retrospect, were working in my favor.

Within 15 minutes Ron, Orv, and I were on our way to the Delaware Park tennis courts.

Now, you need to know, Delaware Park in Buffalo, NY is a beautiful place. It has a lake in the center and all sorts of greenery and classic buildings, such as the Albright Art Gallery, the Historical Museum, The Museum of Science, and the picturesque Delaware Park Golf Course. There are several tennis courts, and the one we ended up at was the one close to where Humboldt Parkway (later called the Scajaquada Parkway, or the 33) and Delaware Avenue meet. At the time there were many elm trees surrounding the tennis courts. In the sunlight it was quite impressive.

As my trip into fate continued, we arrived at the tennis court, parked, got ourselves onto the last court and began trying to hit the ball over the net. We did not do very well. The ball went into the net more than over it. The ball went over the high fencing surrounding the courts more than it went over the net. We were engaging in a true exercise in humility. We persisted in this manner for about 15 minutes. Then it happened!

At one point, I can’t recall why, I looked up at the far end of the courts. There was a girl. She entered the court area, looked around, and slowly walked by all the courts as if looking for someone. As she did so she approached our court, which was at the end. In the meantime I studied her as if she were a piece of moving art. I was holding the ball and getting ready to try to serve it over the net to Ron and Orv, but I paused. I scanned this vision walking toward me, but apparently not seeing me.

This lovely vision wore a white sailer cap, a white blouse, white shorts, white socks and white sneakers. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and she carried herself like an aristocrat, head held high, a picture of pride and assurance. She also had a dark tan, which meant she had lots of time out in the healthy sun. Her back was straight with shoulders held high, and she sort of glided, rather than walked. She did not look anything like the Irish girls I knew. She looked different, in a magnificent way. She had high cheek bones, full lips, and a slim athletic figure.

I recall saying to myself, My God, she is gorgeous. Why she actually looks like… like… like an Indian princess! Someone that beautiful must be married. Oh my gosh she must be married! Damn! I wonder if there would be a way for me to wrest her from her husband!

Now, please note that I am a good Catholic boy at this point. And like a good Catholic boy I was fearful of losing my eternal soul to hellfire. Here I was, a Life Scout with honor and truth as my foundation, yet I found myself entertaining ways to wrench a wife from her husband. My conscience screamed at me, What is wrong with you!!!?

My Indian princess glided onto the bench near our tennis court and crossed her