Read Feels Like the First Time Online
Authors: Shawn Inmon
I managed to see Dawn a few times over the final weeks before school, but it never felt right. We had a lot of friends in Mossyrock, of course. They all knew what our situation was and they were willing to help however they could. Even when we did manage to arrange a meeting at a friend’s house, Dawn was so nervous about getting caught that we couldn’t enjoy being together. We never seemed to get past that initial “So, how are you?” stage. She was afraid every person that drove by was a spy for her parents and could never let her guard down. Having been so intimate in the past, it felt like being with a stranger by comparison.
I saw Dawn one final time before I had to leave for Seattle. It was the first week after Labor Day, and Mossyrock High invited all of that year’s students, and graduates from the previous year, to come to the Multi-purpose room to pick up their annuals and get them signed. In that crowded room, among all of our friends, it felt like every eye was on us. We were afraid to even stand close to each other for fear of getting caught.
Finally, I got Chip to slip my Annual to Dawn so she could sign it for me. I knew I couldn’t sign hers because Colleen would check it, but I was desperate for any word from her. After an eternity, Chip finally brought the book back to me, slapped me on the back and left me to it. With my annual in hand, I couldn’t take sitting there, so close but so far away from her. I rushed outside and sat down in the Vega, unable to wait any longer. I tore the book open and flipped straight to the back, searching for Dawn’s looping cursive. She took up most of a page to herself:
Shawn,
I really am sorry for all the things that have happened. I found out that I have some really good friends. I miss you so much. When I see you, I can only cry. That's what I have been doing all night. I love you so much - don't ever worry about that. You are my life and knowing that you love me keeps me from dying. All I can say is that I'm sorry... when I can see you, that same minute, I will be with you. Please - please - please - never forget me. I will never forget you. Always remember that I love you and always will. MY love for you will never end. YOU are the most important person in my life. I LOVE YOU!!"
Dawn Adele
I could see the emerging woman she was becoming and it was too much to take. I drove straight to our spot at Doss Cemetery. The evening light was beginning to fade. I sat reading what she had written over and over, wondering if I would ever see her again.
My Angel Baby
by Toby Beau was playing on the radio, but I reached down and turned it off. The music that I loved was too painful at that moment.
The rain poured down my windshield as I sat alone in the same spot where we had shared so much happiness together. I mourned the loss of this time together for us.
The next day, I left for Seattle without seeing Dawn again.
I tried out for the basketball team in fifth grade. That’s when I learned being smart wasn’t as important as being able to shoot free throws or throw a baseball really hard. Ever since that epiphany, I had looked forward to getting out of the small town God dropped me in and getting to a place where it was at least somewhat cool to be smart.
I had always figured that place would be the University of Washington. I dreamed about the UW for so long that by September of 1978 it had taken on the aura of legend. Now that the time to actually go there had arrived, that sense of anticipation was gone. The events of the summer and not being able to see or talk to Dawn sucked the joy out of leaving for school.
Terri’s home on Aaby Drive was my halfway house on the journey to the UW. I showed up at her place with my scant belongings, including a suitcase my folks gave me as a graduation gift and my one piece of furniture–a tiny, wooden student desk–all crammed into the back of the Vega.
Using Terri’s place as a base of operations, I went north thirty miles to the U-District in Seattle. My arrival was less than auspicious. I turned off I-5 at the 45
th
St. exit and headed east, not because I knew where I was going, but because that was the way the traffic was going. I passed the legendary Blue Moon Tavern on my left and Peaches Records and Tapes on my right. I rolled a few more blocks up 45
th
, keeping my eyes sharply peeled for the University. I didn’t know how big it was, but I figured I should be able to spot it from my car.
When I stopped at a red light, Peter Brown’s
Dance with Me
was blasting out of my AM radio. Seeing a cop standing on a corner, I turned down the music. I leaned toward the passenger side window and asked in my best non-hick accent, “Excuse me, officer. Can you tell me where the University of Washington is?”
He squinted at me, trying to decide if I was high, an idiot, or just pulling his leg. He shook his head and silently moved one step to his left. Immediately behind him, there was a giant sign that read “University of Washington.” Only then did I notice the rolling campus, full of impressive-looking buildings, approximating what a major university might look like. I smiled grimly and nodded as if to say, “Oh yeah, I guess I could have seen that”, and pulled through the light.
Although I had plenty of time to prepare for my arrival at UW, it was amazing how little I actually arranged in advance. I had no idea where I was going to be living. I didn’t know what classes I wanted to take, and it was clear that I was completely alone.
I found a place to park and walked on campus for the first time. I walked inside Kane Hall–the first building I saw–and went to a bulletin board, pulling a tab from a room for rent ad.
I got lost fifteen times on my way to look at the place. When I found the address, it was clear there wasn’t much to it. It was a 10’ X 12’ room in a basement with kitchen privileges. But at $100 per month, the price was right. And, it did have one advantage over every other place in the U-District–I knew where it was.
Luckily, the room came furnished. This meant it had a bed and a tiny, three-drawer dresser. After moving in my few belongings, I sat down on my new bed, suffering from culture shock. I was in a city of half a million people and I didn’t know a single one. Worse yet, I couldn’t get my mind off that one small-town girl 120 miles away. I was afraid I might never see her again.
If I had suffered separation anxiety a few months earlier in Alaska, I was in much worse shape now. When I was in Alaska, the separation was voluntary, and ended when I decided to return home. Now, home was a tiny cell of a room in a boarding house I shared with my five new best friends. I had no control over anything related to Dawn. Whether or not I ever saw her again depended solely on Walt and Colleen, and they seemed happy with the status quo.
I had been right about one thing. It was cool—and quite commonplace—to be smart at the UW. I also discovered that college women were a little more aggressive. Since I was having a hard time picking a major, I signed up for classes that would serve me well regardless of which direction I chose. My first class was Speech 101, and I met a girl named Karen.
I was so heartsick and in love with Dawn that I couldn’t have been less interested in meeting someone to go out with. But Karen was nice, and we had lot in common. We were both small-town kids lost in the big city. During our first week of classes, Karen asked me if I knew a good place for under-21s to go dancing. I told her I did. There was a place called Reflections about twenty miles south of the UW in Renton. It was an underage dance club. When she suggested going there together, I didn’t think anything about it. We were just two school friends hanging out.
Then Karen showed up at the front door wearing a little black dress, with long curly dark hair and a saucy smile. When she asked for me, the respect I got from my roommates elevated several notches. I knew she and I were just friends, but they didn’t need to know that.
Once we got to Reflections, it was clear Karen and I were just friends hanging out. We danced together a few times, but we both danced more with other people. I spent more time watching everyone else dance and missing Dawn than I did anything else.
Sometime after midnight, Karen gave me a ride home in her powder blue VW bug. When we pulled up to the house on 23
rd
Ave, I told her to slow down and I’d jump out. Instead she asked if there wasn’t a place we could pull in and park for a minute, because she wanted to talk to me.
I led her to a spot at the back of the house, and turned in my seat to see what it was she wanted to tell me. Before the tires even came to a complete stop, Karen was out of her bucket seat and into mine. Suddenly, the night took on a whole different flavor, as I found my lap full of a warm, pliant, beautiful woman. Without a word, she kissed me so hard I’m pretty sure my eyes crossed.
Even all these years later, I have no idea how or why this woman fell into my lap. I had started to outgrow the homeliness that plagued me throughout high school. But I wasn’t exactly the movie star type, and Karen was very attractive.
I immediately grew uncomfortable. I loved Dawn. I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I considered Karen to be a friend. I took hold of her shoulders and guided her back to her side of the car. I tried to talk but, as happens so often when I’m nervous, only babble and laughter came out. I don’t know what I said, but Karen eventually got the message. She didn’t seem bothered at all.
“Yeah, you’re right,” she said, smiling. “We should save that for a more special time.”
It wasn’t until I’d let myself into my little room and laid down on my bed that I realized what she meant. If I’d wanted to be less than a gentleman, I could have. In fact, I had to work pretty damn hard not to.
That night did bring me a gift of perspective, though. One day Dawn’s folks were calling me on the carpet for not being in precisely the right place at precisely the right time, and a few weeks later, beautiful women were offering all kinds of potential delights. The problem was, I wasn’t interested in any of them or any of those potential delights. I only wanted Dawn.
After that night, I avoided Karen at school for a few days. It was easy to do on a campus the size of UW. She seemed to get the message. She was still friendly, and not angry at me for my lack of follow-through.
I made sure never again to put myself in a position where I would have to deal with that kind of misunderstanding. I went to school, walked home, stayed in my room, and studied. I lived like a hermit for the rest of that quarter.
I had virtually no contact with Dawn those first few months in Seattle. I couldn’t call her and we weren’t even allowed to exchange letters. That didn’t stop me from writing them and getting them to her, a complicated process. It required an entire underground railroad of our friends. Beyond those letters, which were filled with longing and strange ideas–
maybe we should just run away so we can be together
–I had no contact with her.
In early November, my friend Chip came up with a plan. He was dating Dawn’s niece, Lori, who was living at Dawn’s house. He had asked Lori if she wanted to go see the Commodores and the Brothers Johnson at Seattle Center Arena. As part of his clever plan, Chip told Walt and Colleen he had purchased a ticket for another friend who had been planning to go, but then backed out. So, Chip wondered, would they care if Dawn went to the concert as well?
Our plan was to have Chip, Lori and Dawn meet me in the U-District, and go to the concert from there. This charade would buy us a few sweet hours together. When Chip suggested it, I agreed before he could even finish explaining the idea. I couldn’t get the thought of seeing Dawn out of my head. Aside from a few stolen moments here and there, I hadn’t spent more than ten consecutive minutes with her since July. The idea of a whole evening with Dawn seemed like heaven.