The good friend Fifty years ago on an October afternoon, I was taking dictation from a telephone company supervisor when he dictated, “I know who would be the perfect match for you!” This didn’t connect with the dictation for telephone letters. But the supervisor continued, “My good friend just returned home from Germany after filling his two service years with the Army. You two would be good together.” I responded, “Thank you. I’m not interested.” Nothing more was spoken of the “good friend” until one Saturday morning shortly after that dictation when the office was working overtime. Dressed in jeans, a boy’s plaid shirt, no makeup, and my hair in curlers, I looked up and who should walk up to my desk with the supervisor but a good-looking guy, the supervisor’s friend. Apparently, my looks didn’t discourage him. That evening we had our first date. It was the night I fell in love. Three months later the “good friend” (now my best friend) was back at college finishing his degree. He called to ask, “Will you marry me?” I became his June bride 50 years ago this past June. Mary Lou Helt, North Wilkesboro, EnergyUnited
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