Love blows in on the Llano Estacado

February 25, 1956—Amarillo, Texas, fifty years ago today. The drought-ridden Llano Estacado had tried to blow itself away the day before. The dust storm had raged and ravaged until well past midnight. I’d been out in it on a date. Got home late. Mother was mad. I was fifteen.
Fifteen, and supposed to go to a debate tournament in Lubbock after the excitment of the night before. I was due at the coach’s house about 15 minutes ago, at 5:30 a.m. Mother wanted me to skip it. I was so sick—I sounded like a bull frog. But no. A debater doesn’t let her partner down.
I hopped out of our car into Mrs. Hall’s and almost onto the lap of this senior boy. He looked at his watch. Mighty cute that Bob Pando.
By Plainview, it was plain to me. He says he knew sooner, he liked the way I sounded.
Bob and Trilla as Amarillo High School Sandie Seniors. 1956 and 1957.
25 years later—on the town in Houston
Now