I've told this story before.  I was in the third grade when Ken graduated from high school.  I don't remember anything about him one way or another.  He had been in the Marine Corps for eight years when he returned to Pryor on military leave, and came to visit his high school football coach and my dad.  It was September of my senior year, and I had a date with someone for Saturday night that I wanted to get out of.  People didn't have cell phones, (not invented yet), so I decided not to be home when the guy came to pick me up.  I'd let my mom explain.  (Actually, my date had done something stupid that was a deal breaker for me.  I figured he wouldn't be surprised at all that I canceled.)

All my friends had come over to my house that morning, to help me decide where I could go that evening to get out of the house.  (We weren't very mature to say the least.)  We were all in the kitchen talking it over when I heard my mom answer the front door and greet someone.  "Janie," she said, "Come here.  I want you to meet a friend of our family.  Ken Jacks." I looked past the kitchen door, through the dining room window, and saw a yellow Hudson Hornet convertible parked in front of our house.  All of my friends and I were in awe.  We asked the guy my mom had introduced us to if we could drive his car.  (Looking back, we were not only immature, but we didn't have good manners either.  The car was more important than the visitor.)

He handed me the keys, and the five of us took off to drag main with the top down.  No seat belts back then.  Three of my friends sat on top of the back seat, and two of us in front.  Our hair blowing in the wind.  We did main (which was only five blocks) three or four times making sure that everyone in town saw us.  When we got back, Ken said he was going to Tulsa that evening to visit family, and if I was going to stand my boyfriend up, I could go with him if I wanted to.  "Put something fancy on, and we'll make sure everyone knows you are out on the town."  Fabulous.  It wasn't a "date."  He was too way too old for me to date--and my mom, the strictest mom in town, said it would be okay.

We went to dinner.  I thought nothing of it.  But a week later, Friday, my friend Jerry (the football coach's son) called and asked a favor--he wanted to take this girl out, and Ken, who was staying with his folks for the week, was going to let him have the convertible.  "Can I bring him over to your house?  You and your folks can take him to the game, and I'll come back and pick him up later."  So that's what we did.  Me, mom, dad and Ken went to the game, came home and waited for Jerry.  Who didn't come back on time...    (Continued)