15 years

Steve and I tell stories differently.

I think years of editing and condensing other people’s words for newspaper publication heightened my sense of brevity. I tend to answer questions with the most efficient use of words.

Steve is a natural storyteller. He adds colorful phrases and pauses for emphasis and goes off on tangents.

His stories are always better than mine.

When people ask how we met, I usually say something like, “One of his best friends from high school was one of my best friends in college. He introduced us.”

Steve’s answer takes longer but is definitely more fun. And it illustrates how seemingly random twists and decisions lead to life-changing events.

Steve and Will Pry were friends at a North Dallas high school. They were in band together. They shared classes. They sometimes shared contempt from certain teachers who didn’t appreciate their adolescent antics.

Upon graduation, they went separate ways.

Steve attended the University of Michigan, following a family tradition set by his grandfather, great uncle, dad and others.

He took a while to settle on a major. Pre med, pre law, religion and finally English literature because he realized he was going to graduate soon and needed to declare a major. He had more English credits than any other.

Will attended the University of North Texas, where he majored in journalism.

When Steve would come home from college breaks, he didn’t return to Texas. His parents had since moved to Miami, so he spent summers and Christmases in Florida.

Will was dating a young woman he met at North Texas whose family was from Florida. He spent some time with her family during breaks.

And Steve and Will resumed their friendship.

While Steve was in college, he worked for a Baskin-Robbins franchise owned by two guys – one who lived in Michigan and one who lived in Texas.

The Texas partner, Tim, was visiting the summer after Steve’s graduation and asked what Steve would do at the end of summer.

Steve’s plan was to move in with his parents (who had just moved back to Texas), study for the LSAT and apply to law schools.

Tim convinced Steve to instead move to Brenham, Texas, where he managed a large physician practice. He appreciated Steve’s work ethic at the ice cream shop and thought Steve would be a good fit in the business office.

So he headed to Blue Bell country.

Steve may have been a good fit in the office, but he sought more than Brenham could offer on the weekends. He’d often drive to Dallas, stay with his parents and visit his long-time friend, Will, still at student at UNT.

It was at North Texas that Will and I met. We were in the same reporting class. He’d set a Big Gulp on the desk in front of mine. Gravity took over, the giant soda slid and fell on top of my black-watch plaid back pack.

I didn’t hold a grudge. We later worked on the college daily together and were co-managing editors when he introduced me to his friend Steve.

I was engaged at the time (that’s a whole other story) and didn’t pay him much attention.

A few months later, the engagement was off. My ex and I had four tickets to The Cure concert and, for reasons I don’t recall now, I thought it was a good idea that we still go together.

Will convinced me otherwise. He also convinced me to invite his buddy Steve.

Melissa Tarun, Will, Steve and I braved the heat of Dallas in June to see The Cure live at Texas Stadium. A few weeks later, Steve and I had our first official date. All because Steve scooped ice cream in Ann Arbor and spent summers in Miami with Will.

Fifteen years ago today, we were married.

No matter how you tell the story, it always has a happy ending.

July 2, 1994