So after that chance meeting in September, I never heard from him again.  I didn't expect to hear from him.  He was my parent's friend, not mine.  But the following year, the last of March, he called my father and asked if he could have his permission to pursue me with marriage in mind.  My dad said,  "Does she know anything about this."

"No sir, I haven't spoken to her since last September.  She has no idea that I am interested.  She is so much younger than I am that I wanted to be sure you didn't object.  I was waiting until she turned 18 before I said anything to you."

My dad adored Ken and viva versa.  My dad said, "You certainly have my permission.  Catch her if you can,"  I don't think either one of them considered that I would say no.  Which I did.  Over and over.

Every weekend, Ken would finish his week at the training command, fly over Pryor very low, break the sound barrier,  (which was illegal) and rattle windows, land in Tulsa and spend the weekend trying to convince me to marry him.  Chanel #5, etc. etc.,  a very worn book from the Pensacola library: Cyrano De Bergerac.  I wonder if he had any plan to return it?  People would meet me downtown and say, "Why don't you marry him so this town can have some peace again."

Finally, after weeks and weeks he asked, "What is it going to take?"  I flippantly replied.  "Close to a carat, set in platinum, four prongs and a perfect diamond."  It came in the mail two days later.  Of course I took it to the jeweler to see if it was real.  "I never saw a perfect diamond before, I'm sure it must have a flaw, but I can't find one." he said.  I was shocked.  This was serious.  And I had been teasing.  Like I said in James 1: 17 "Every good and every perfect gift is from above and comes down from the father of lights in whom there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning."  This was turning out to be perfect in more ways than one.  I had started to realize that Ken was pretty perfect himself.