Main characters: Coco, Liz and me.
Approx. Date: Aug 1977
Scene: Mayport, FL, New Orleans and Baton Rouge.
Link to prequel to this story: https://quotesbydavid.com/those-buds-were-not-for-me/
The Jonas Ingram returned to Mayport, FL from the Mid-East cruise in Aug 1977. Over the course of seven months, Coco and I had exchanged many dozens of letters and a few audio tapes. I loved her voice. She also sent me a photo of herself which I pinned up inside the door of my stateroom locker. Coco was so breathtakingly beautiful that just looking at that picture always lifted my spirits.
I discovered that Coco was well read including philosophy and she wrote beautiful poetry. I too, am a reader and I had a certain gift with poems myself. So, beyond the physical attraction, we made a genuine soul connection. I was beginning to realize that Coco could become my life’s companion. But I was still resolute about waiting to marry until after the Navy and on to a new career – some two plus years hence. So, how to convince such a marvelous and exquisitely beautiful twenty-two-year girl to stick with me, without marrying her? And of course, even if I asked her to marry me, someone of her caliber may well say “Thanks but no thanks.” Clearly, I needed to play my hand well.
I had let Coco know that I would be home sometime between Friday and Sunday. The uncertainty was because there were several things I had to do before leaving Mayport. The accursed Welfare & Rec job came back to torment me one more time. As WRO, I was tasked with completing a cruise book which is similar to a senior yearbook. That alone took several days working with a rep from a company that did cruise books. Also there was a very nice girl who lived in Mayport that I needed to visit and tell I had found someone else and our relationship was over.
I think it was three days after the Ingram docked before I was able to leave and catch a flight into New Orleans where my sister, Liz, and her husband were living. Liz and I were good friends and so I wanted to spend a little time visiting with her. Also, she was harboring my car, a baby blue ‘68 TR 6. My first inclination was to grab a glass of wine with Liz, hop in my trusty Triumph, and zip 75 miles west to LSU where my girl was patiently waiting for me. Liz noted that I looked pretty haggard having gotten very little sleep over the past several days. She and her husband, David, offered to treat me to dinner at their favorite restaurant, I could spend the night, and then leave refreshed the next morning for Baton Rouge.
I concurred. Why? Well, with all of Coco’s exceptional qualities, at the end of the day she was a girl, and therefore there was a game to be played and heart to be fully won. Experience had taught me that a bit of nonchalance carried currency in this enterprise. What made the plan more plausible was that the phone at Coco’s apartment was out and this enabled me to work through third parties. So I called my mother and let her convey the extra day delay info. Arrangements were made for me to rendezvous with Coco the following morning, now Monday, at 11:00 am on the steps of the LSU union. No more fooling around; I knew I had to be there then.
The dinner was delicious; I slept like a log until about 5 am when a terrific thunderstorm unleashed a deluge on New Orleans. The streets were immediately flooded even in Uptown New Orleans. By 9:00, I had no choice but to go for it, so I ventured out in the Triumph on roads where only large trucks feared to tread. I coached and cooed my little car explaining how critical it was that it not drown out on me. And it didn’t; it pushed a bow wave through over foot deep water in some places and got us up and on the I-10 ramp. Whew! We had made it.
Under now blue skies with my top down I was soon zipping across the Bonnet Carrie Spillway when I noticed my temperature gauge was redlining. In a few minutes, steam began to billow from under the hood. Turns out the fan had plastic blades and the high water had snapped most of them. I was stranded on the Causeway. It was 9:45 and I was now really concerned. I envisioned Coco sitting on those steps after all the other delays and me not showing up without explanation. That could easily be the last straw.
I had to flag someone down who would get word to her by 11:00. The challenge was magnified because I was dressed as a Saudi prince: dishdasha, kufiyah, and a long black beard. I took off the beard and stuck out my thumb. Within five minutes, “Wallah!” A young fellow pulled over who attended LSU. I told him my plight and he agreed to locate Coco and explain my situation and also to call my sister and let her know what had happened. He did call Liz, but he did not connect with Coco. So I was a no show without an explanation. Bad, bad, bad.
It took until about 5:00 PM to get the Triumph towed to a shop that could repair it. Now, formerly cool me had no wheels. The best I could do at that point was arrange to take a Greyhound bus to the Baton Rouge bus station. And the next bus was to arrive at 10 pm at the ratty bus station in a seedy part of the City.
Through intermediaries I let Coco know about the bus plan and got a confirmation that she would meet me there. (I have read her version of this experience and she almost said no and deliberately got to the station at 10:30 – so as to make me do some waiting.)
I continued with the Saudi Prince garb in hopes it might serve as a now badly needed icebreaker. Got lots of stares in the NOLA bus station and on the bus as I went to the very back and took an aisle seat. The bus just sat there – 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes. Two large policemen then came on the bus and walked down the aisle while staring directly at me the whole way. I put on my best smile which probably wasn’t noticeable due to the big beard. “Is you an Arab?” one asked. “Is you a policeman?” I responded. (What a stupid response!!) They snatched me out my seat and drug me off the bus. I turned to the bus driver at the door and pleaded, “Sir, it is life and death. Please don’t leave without me.”
“What the hell are you doing dressed up like that?” the other policeman asked. I told him I was masquerading for a girl at LSU and after showing them my MS driver’s license and military ID, they were satisfied I was not dangerous. They let me return to the bus with instructions to not wear the beard. “Thank you, sirs!”
The bus, of course, was 40 minutes late getting to Baton Rouge because of my shenanigans. So, Coco had to wait for me again. I was the last person to get off the bus and I had put my beard back on. Coco immediately knew it was me and she was NOT amused. There was a lot of ice and none of it was broken at that point. But I had brought some good wine and that helped begin the thaw.
When she eventually told me her take on the past five days waiting for me to come home, I realized just how close I came to overplaying my hand and totally losing the game. But I didn’t. Somehow it all worked out and she’s been my life’s ideal companion for nearly half a century.