Do you remember your first kiss?

I was 12 years old and my booyfriend walked me to the corner and had to take out his retainer and hand it to his friend. Talk about romatintic.

I was 12 we were at Carolina Beach. I was going to school with this boy I had a crush on him we both lived in Winston-Salem. We ended up Kissing under the Carolina Beach Pier. I thought it was the greatest moment in my life

THE FIRST KISS

Young love shows up in wonderful ways. I liked her. Besides being very pretty with beautiful medium length brown hair, dark eyes, a smile that made me grow weak in her presence and my heart melt into nothingness, she was fun to be around and had a beautiful singing voice that sounded like pure joy. The problem was that I had no idea what to do with this special knowledge.

She came into my life when I was in the 7^th grade and I was thus automatically one of the “older” boys. She looked to me to be a wonderfully mature woman and was, indeed, in the sixth grade. This could have been a problem as the grade school, with 6^th grade, was three blocks west of my house and the junior high, 7^th grade, was 3 blocks east of my house. Normally, this kind of geography would pose a seemly impossible task for a full-blown romance but geography would prove to be no problem for a young man about town, full of the world’s wisdom, such as myself.

Her family, the Cunningham’s, lived across the street from my family and just one house to the west. Besides this wonderful fact, she had three younger brothers, Kelly and twins Tom and Robert, who spent most of their time in my yard. You would think that this could be a great thought for a budding romance. The plot thickens! This family moved to our town and her dad had become our church minister. Now, I was a little nervous about that fact and pursuing a “torrid” romance. Actually I was not sure what “torrid” meant but I had heard it somewhere in relation to the word romance and the two words did sound like they should go together even if I did not understand. It finally dawned on me that not only would I see her nearly every day but every Sunday, Sunday night, Wednesday night and any other time our church came together for any reason. Her dad loved working with young people. I always assumed that was because he had so many of his own, but I could live with this entire developing picture regardless of how entangled this web became.

I want my readers to understand something that I think your comprehension will have difficulty with as I proceed with this next statement, so read carefully and digest each word with surgical precision.

There have been profound moments in my life when I could not speak.

That is a strange statement coming from me and for those of you that know me; I do understand your lack of belief. I have spoken privately and publicly many times on many subjects since my early childhood and occasionally I even knew and understood the subject of discussion. However, a few of you know me well enough to remember those moments when I could not speak

As I found myself in Carolyn’s presence, I discovered that I was struck with something I had not witnessed before in my life. It is important that you understand that I did everything possible to place myself close to her in every situation. There was church, movies in which the whole neighborhood gang attended, parties, time for play in our neighborhood yards, and precious moments when I would just walk over to her house to -----well, see who was there.

I also remember one evening when about a dozen of us sat around her living room and sung hymns because that is what she---and her father, liked to do. Understand, we did this for an hour or more. I remember when it happened. The song haunts me, even as I write these memories. The title was, “Above the Bright Blue” and I was sitting as close to her as I possibly could without getting into trouble with the watchful eye of her father. I was startled by the clearness and beauty of her voice and—I found myself-- in love.

Now here is the problem. It was time for everyone to go home. All of the group got up to leave and made their way to the back door and Carolyn and I just sat there---together---and I could not speak. I could not speak! No matter how hard I tried, any word so desperately needed at this time simply was not going to happen. She looked at me with those big brown expecting eyes and said---“well?” I swallowed hard and said, “IGOTTAGOHOMENOW”. It was dark outside and my house was about forty yards away. It took me all night to get there and I ran all the way! What was the matter with me? I idolized her, I adored her, she was my princess of light, my voice of an angel, my heartbeat---and I could not speak! How could this be? What was wrong?

My adoration for her was not set on the stage alone as other young men of my acquaintance shared my feelings. Then one day I found myself in utter despair. My world was about to end. One of my best friends, an older boy, asked her to go to the movies with him and she said, “YES!” Okay, that did it! I was not going to let this happen more than once.

The decision was made that she would be the first girl I would take to the movies. That sounded very romantic to me and all I had to do was open my mouth and start talking. Oh my, surely that would be all that was necessary. As I thought about this possibility, I realized I had to make the decision to either call her on the telephone or ask her in person. I would not have any of that telephone kid stuff! I would ask her in person! How am I going to get this job done? I decided I better clean up first and maybe comb my hair. It seemed to me that when a person is going to call on a beautiful young maiden that he should at least look his best. Dad had some of that blue aftershave stuff and it did smell “manly”. I was careful not to use too much.

I arrived at her front door in a rather shaky but determined state of mind and knocked hard to make sure that I was heard. I did not want to go through this again. I had thoughts of, “was any girl worth all of this pain?” She answered the door, thank goodness, and we sat down on the edge of the porch. I asked her immediately if I could take her to the movies next Saturday. She said, “Yes, that would be nice.” Hey, this was easy!

Dear reader, you may feel that there is a possibility that I have embellished a few minor points thus far in this story, surely not, but please understand that the rest of the story is exactly as it happened.

Saturday afternoon finally arrived and I remember walking to her house and being really scared. I am not sure what I was afraid of but I was scared! We walked along the north side of Washington Street to the corner then turned south. This route had advantages in that about half of the block on Washington had large trees all the way the corner. This gave me some protection from what I was sure were the Collins boys looking out the window watching my every move.

As we turned and headed south on Oxford toward the downtown area and the movies, everything seemed to be going really well. This was not so bad after all and I did not faint. The whole process was going just fine; however, it was about this time that I realized that she was nowhere in sight. I looked around and she was about ten feet behind and trying hard to catch up. It seems I was walking a little fast.

The movie went well. I noticed several of the other boys had their arms around their dates. There was no way that was going to happen. I gave serious thought to that possibility but it was just not going to happen. It was at this point, I made the decision that my arm was paralyzed and could not move in any direction.

Usually the feature on a Saturday afternoon was a “cowboy movie” and cartoons. That seemed right to me. None of that “love stuff” for me because I never saw Roy Rodgers or Gene Autry put their arms around a girl and certainly, they would never kiss a girl.

Carolyn and I had several more “dates” and then “it” happened. Buddy Collins told me I was supposed to kiss her good night. Now I fainted! Well, at least I thought I was about to faint! My first thought on this serious matter, was why? After thinking about it for a moment, this sounded like a great idea! Then I realized that I had never kissed a girl. I thought about it all day. Maybe I should ask my dad about it. THAT—was not going to happen! Maybe I should ask Buddy Collins about it. No way! Besides I felt like he knew too much about it already and I knew he wanted to take her to the movies. I was not about to let him have that opportunity if I could help it at all. It was time for another trip to the famous Arcadia Theater in downtown Maud, Oklahoma.

By the time the movie was over it was dark outside and it was time for the long walk home. How in the world would I make this work and would she accept my attempt at a goodnight kiss? Finally, just before we reached here house, we reached the privacy of the trees on Washington Street. I was sweating, my hands were ice cold and I was aware that I could not feel them. Maybe they had dropped off somewhere on the way home! My heart was beating so hard and fast that I was sure she could hear the sound. Oh my, I hoped not! I had to act cool but I felt that was impossible. It was now or never and---it happened. I can still see her face in the moonlight as she closed her eyes and tilted her head in my direction. As that delightful moment ended, all she said was, “Oh---, guy----.” I was expecting a little more response than that but it would have to do. As for myself, I was not able to say anything. I never did know if I had done it right or not. I took her hand and we walked the rest of the way home without saying a word. I wondered what would happen as we reached the door. She said, simply and beautifully, “Good night.” That seemed appropriate. I replied, “Good night.”

This time, I did not run home.

Buddy Collins asked me the next day what happened. He never did know the answer to his question.

I do not know what happened to Carolyn. She moved away the summer before I entered the tenth grade. Our romance, or what ever it was, had turned more to a wonderful friendship and we both seemed to be content. I remember the last visit to her house, just before she moved away, and the time we shared as we sat together on her porch. We made a few pictures that I still cherish, but we preferred to just sit and talk. She had put on a pretty new dress and had her hair done in a wonderful fashion that drew emphasis to her beautiful eyes and smile. We talked of our time together and yes, I asked her if she remembered the kiss. She turned her face toward mine, her eyes sparkled, she smiled, and I melted. I had my answer. Perhaps there might have been a little sadness this day, but again, we did not know what to do with even these moments. I had carved our initials on the big tree in front of her house and eventually even the tree vanished. As the years passed, my path and my heart brought me many times to that porch and the grove of trees on Washington Street.

Many others have told me the story of their first kiss, but somehow none seemed to be as special as “our” story. I would hope that is the way it is for everyone. I never knew if it was Carolyn’s first kiss and it did not matter. The sweet “fragrance” of the moment spoke for itself. Perhaps somewhere in this story I will find the purpose of memory.

As I look back now at those young and wonderful years, I pause for a moment and realize that it was the quiet moment, rapid, but tender and innocent hearts that made the difference in the story. Those moments are forever locked away only to be shared with those who now share my heart.

If Carolyn had remained in our hometown, she would be a member of the class of ’55. I was an invited guest to their 50^th reunion in June of 2005 and I looked forward to seeing old friends but as I entered their meeting room I wondered---will my thoughts turn to sweet remembrance of Carolyn. I thought there might be that moment and I was right.

As I sit here tonight with my beloved Kay, reading this story together, we are reminded of those magical moments and the special people that touched our lives and helped form those wonderful memories that carry us through this great life adventure.

“Happy times and bygone days are never lost….

In truth, they grow more wonderful within the heart that keeps them.” Kay Andrew

Yes I remember second grade Tom Magluilo St. Raphael's San Rafael. Completely innocent but never forgotten.

One night, as we were pulling up to the dorm to walk our dates to the door, the magical moment arrived. This was October 29, 1954. As I look back on this night, I remember that the evening had not been anything outstanding but I had never taken Kay’s presence for granted and our time together had been very pleasant. With our good friends, Bill and “Dotsy”, we had enjoyed a movie at one of the local theaters and this evening, I don’t know how else to say this, I was “drawn” to Kay more than I can explain and I remember feeling that I didn’t really care if I understood my feelings or not. Just being with her was enough.

As our evening came to a close, we made our way back to the campus and the girl’s dorm. I don’t remember that I had given any thought ahead of time to this moment and what happened next seemed to be very natural as I felt as though I had always known her. I do not know how to explain that fact. I enjoyed her presence and I found myself not wanting the evening to end.

I remember her face that night and more deeply impressed in my memory as I write, is her expression as I put my arms around her for the first time. A big full moon filled the interior of the car with soft light and we both found a gentle and wonderful moment in which we simply---looked at each other perhaps for the first time. It is interesting to me, as I now realize that that same full moon would appear again on one of the most beautiful moments in our lives, almost exactly one year later as she said, “Yes”, and I placed the engagement ring on her finger and my heart in her hands.

There was no rush this night as our lips found each other and at that special moment, I knew even more than I can explain that this gentle, sweet light had become the center of my thoughts. I want you to understand that a kiss is important to me and I do not take that personal moment lightly. I never have and I never will; however, it would not be fair for me to say that we were in love. At this point in my life, I was very cautious about those feelings but I did realize that something was happening. Unknown to either of us, the process had begun.

As surely as I sit here some fifty years later, I remember her touch as her arm came across my shoulder and her hand rested ever so gently on the back of my head. I remember the soft touch of her lips, her fragrance, and the softness of her hair, those beautiful green eyes and her magnetic presence. I also remember, as the kiss ended, that---I was breathless and---- I – was not sure that I understood why. I don’t think I said anything and as I remember the moment, Kay did not speak either. Again, there was that moment in which we simply looked at each other, she smiled, and unknown to either of us at the time, we became-----friends-----for life.

Kay and I have talked about this moment and we both remember the kiss as being very soft and gentle. I will remember forever the quietness and gentleness that I saw in her that night.

Our double date friends that night were Bill and “Dotsy”, two of the most “fun loving and wackiest” people to cross my path in this life. From the back seat came a sound that shattered the stillness of the night but not the magic of the moment. “Gol--lee, look at that”, Bill screeched! Dotsy’s comment was a little more profound, “Wow”!

It seems that every one on campus could tell, by being around us, that there was something special happening between us and wondered when this event was going to take place. I now realize that they knew what was occurring in our relationship even before we were aware of the importance of our time together. The two of us, it turned out, just did not want to accept the fact—yet. It would be almost seven months before we realized the significance of this moment.

As much as I would have preferred more privacy, I knew that was just not going to happen. I know this must sound strange but I want those that read this story to know that for the two of us, there was no one else in the car this night and now the whole picture is one beautiful moment. A moment shared that would last a lifetime. There have been so many “firsts” in our lives together that it is hard to remember all of them, but to know that it really began at this moment still softens me, reaches down inside, and somehow brings the thought, “I am so blessed.” Surely this moment did not happen, ----but it did.

We were married two years later and have now been married for fifty-three years.

I was 13 and went to the movies with a boy named Art . When we got close to my house, I looked at him and his nose was running from the cold, with that he kissed me right on the mouth! I couldn't wait to get home to wash my face!

I was 14 or 15, I can't remember. I was dating a guy that my friend set me up with, a totally boring guy, and the first kiss was equally as boring. Of course, at the time I was pretty excited about it. If I knew then what I know now ...

Yes. I was eleven (11) years old and madly in love with my neighbor/boyfriend. One summer evening we were rollerskating on the block and he and I went around back into his garage. There he asked me if I had ever been french kissed!  OMG, I had never even been kissed, let alone "french kissed."  I told him no, and he asked me if I would like to kiss him. He was such a gentleman at the ripe old age of 12!  With roller-skates on feet, he rolled up close to me and planted a big, wet kiss on my lips...tongue too!  At that point, I knew this had to be true love...we broke up when school started again that fall. 

Christmas last year. 16 years old. My boyfriend of one year, outside his house in the snow. We hadn't seen each other in about 4 months (we live very far apart). It was simply incredible and breath-taking.

I started collecting these stories two years ago. I wish more people would respond. Everyone has a story to tell.