Bursting with excitement, I'm starting college at Fresno State. Will I be able to find all the classes on the huge campus? There are so many students too. You can tell the Fresno High by their sophisticated looks, the Clovis girls by their friendly smiles and my goodness, I've never seen so many handsome dudes. What a shock for a parochial school graduate from a class of thirty-five students with a ratio of five boys to thirty girls. This is going to be fun!

For the first time, I'll be taking some art courses, drawing and design. Someone said they have real nudes in figure sketching; could this be true?

In my drawing class, there is an older fellow who is a veteran. My locker is close to his, so he begins talking to me with the usual approach. "What high school did you attend?"

I smile, "St. John's, I bet you never heard of it?"

"Oh, yes, It's quite small; isn't' t it? I'm a Fresno High but that was four years ago." He pauses, "That was in 1941. I semester here, before Uncle Sam had other plans for me."

He isn't very tall; he's thin (from having malaria in the service). For some reason, I'm intrigued by his manners and keen sense of humor. He smokes, knows all the seniors who are officers on the campus, and is in a fraternity. I'm impressed. The only other people I know, are my brother and his girl friend.

After a few weeks, we become more acquainted. While working on an art project, my friend, George, is squatting (native Filipino style) on top of the table. He is helping me wipe some paint off my hands. He starts talking about his fraternity having a party Saturday night. "Would you like to go? I'm going with some friends."

At first, visions of wild parties, drinking, and who knows what will happen, whizzes through my mind. Then remembering this guy has been in a war. I know that he'll protect me. I bravely say, "Sure, what time?"

"Oh, around six o'clock."

He continues to talk about the frat brothers wanting more girls at the party. I'm wondering; is this a date or an arrangement.

When he picked me up, he had his Dad's car as this was to be a double date (this eased my mind some). The party was held in a lovely two-story house that belonged to one of the professors. Everyone was friendly and as I looked around, no one was drunk or trying to make out. The wildest event of the evening would be when George whispers in my ear, Humphrey Bogart style, "Sweetheart, stick with me and you'll go places!"

The big campus activity of the year, called the Blue Key Carnival was coming up, so George asked me to go with him. "You can't say no, because my friend, Ed, wants to take our picture for the cover story on the campus newspaper."

How could I resist!

Pretty soon, this persuasive guy is taking me to lunch at the Olive Inn, a big hang out for the college students. He has this neat looking '41 green Ford coupe and even offers to teach me to drive.

This green coupe is parked out in front of my house on many a night. One night, we start to talk about our family background. He comes from a very stable home; he has lived in Fresno most of his life. His parents are older; they had him in their late thirties. He has one brother, 12 years older, and one sister, 10 years older.

I ask if he ever goes to church.

"Well, sometimes maybe Easter or Christmas. Church isn't any big deal to me."

"Religion is very important to me. I've gone to church all my life."

Rather exasperated he says, "So, tell me a little about you family."

"I have two brothers , one older and one younger. My dad is Irish Catholic and my mom was Lutheran, but she became a convert when she married Dad. In those days, you couldn't marry a non-Catholic.Also," I explained, "My Dad was crippled with arthritis a few years after I was born, maybe that's why he was more religious than most of his family and why he insisted on us having a Catholic education. Don't you ever pray?"

"Sure I do; I prayed a lot in the foxhole while my buddies were being blown up, but I don't see why you have to go to church all the time. Besides, my folks are good people, probably a lot better than some so called Christians."

After this discussion on religion, George decided to show me that he was very understanding of my views. He arrived one night with a package beautifully wrapped. I ask, "A present--what's the occasion?"

"Don't ask so many questions, just open it." He fidgets like a child at a birthday party wanting to help open gifts.

"Ok, ok. I just hate to tear the pretty paper."

I painstakingly remove the ribbon, the wrappings, slowly open the box, and gently fold the tissue back. Reaching over to kiss him, I exclaim, "Oh how beautiful."

He looks at me very puzzled. Holding the silver beads in my hands, I am gently caressing them.

Waiting impatiently, he finally says, "Aren't you going to put them on?"

I'm the one looking puzzled now, "Why?"

"Well," he explained, "My Catholic friend, John, always wore his beads around his neck."

I smiled, enjoying this new concept for rosary beads.

Humphrey Bogart doesn't waste time, we have been dating for several months, so one day, he surprises me with another gift, but this one he didn't buy for me. It's a delicate pin with tiny pearls and rubies.

"It's nice, but what is it?" I inquire.

Looking at me like I'm stupid, he rolls his eyes and says, "It's my fraternity pin. I want to go steady with you."

This may not be much of a commitment, but to a naive school girl just released to venture into the world, this was like having chains.

Stammering I say, "Well-er-maybe we should wait a while."

I really like this guy, but there are a lot of guys available, probably some good Catholic boys. That would solve a lot of problems. He looks at me first with anger. thinking this dumb broad just wants me to spend money on her; she's just plain fickle. Then his expression turns to hurting as he states, "I really love you; don't you love me?"

I'm confused--what's wrong with me, There is such a comfortable feeling being with him. I know I'll miss him if he says he'll never see me again. but do I want to get serious right now?

"I do love you, but then I don't know if this is true love. Also, remember when I've talked about my having to be married in the Catholic church, even though you don't become a convert, you will have to take instructions and promise to raise the children Catholic. Would you be willing to do that?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he says, "Sure, that's no big deal; besides this isn't a proposal, I'm just asking you to go steady. If you're going to make such a fuss--forget it."

Looking at him sadly, I say, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings; I really do care about you--could we wait a few weeks."

We agree and decide not to date for the next two weeks.

When we meet at the Student Union two weeks later, taking me by the arm, he says, "It's too crowded in here; let's go for a ride."

I mention that some one told me that he had a fire in his car.

"Yeah, it was just in the glove compartment, but the door is stuck on that side. You can get in on my side."

The ride is very silent; then we stop near a park. I'm feeling real queasy; he seems nervous.

Finally, he says, "Well, sweetheart, is it going to be me?"

I respond, "Why did you come and complicate my life; you know you're irresistible!"

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