That Irrepressible Dawn To many, Love may appear As the coming of Spring Waking up from the icy Unfamiliarity of Winter, Uncontrolled, and as the Spring, not be governed By the calendar. And as the Spring, it may Take the path of deliberate Gradualness, Or the highway of suddenness And surprise. But then one morning we Wake up with the fervor of Fascination in our heart And the shine of wondrous Recognition in our eyes, And we throw up the window And behold the change in The World outside: The infant softness of Green trees, the fragrance Of undiscovered blossoms, The radiant, glowing warmth Of a New Sun. And we know that soon our World will open into the Richness of Summer. Not without its periods Of storm, but then, What is Love without Some Darkness? Or Summer without its rain? Yes, our Spring has come And with it a New Life; And in chorus to the Music in the air, We shout it to the world.
—Roy H. Park, Jr.
My poem in the Raleigh News & Observer said it all.
I scraped together enough money to buy an engagement ring, jumped in the Nash-Healey one night and drove sixteen hours straight through to North Carolina. When I crossed the state line, I got out of the car and in thanks touched my forehead to the ground. About 7 AM, I arrived at Tetlow’s front door, much to her surprise. Although welcomed, I spent the rest of the morning sleeping to recover, and she had no idea what my spontaneous visit was all about.
That night I proposed and gave her the ring. I even had a camera with me to record her expression when she opened the box.
By the time I got through my first year at Cornell in 1961, I had interviewed for and been given a salaried position for the summer, as director of public relations for the United Way of Raleigh, so I wouldn’t be separated from my fiancée during those months. The United Way campaign included a full-length movie I wrote and directed Of Money and Miracles, highlighting each one of the agency’s recipients. Our slogan, on bumper stickers and posted throughout the Raleigh area on billboards, was “Somebody Loves You!” It was becoming clearer and clearer that my parents wanted me to wait until I graduated before I got married, and that her parents (who seemed to like me well enough when I was just the boyfriend) didn’t want her marrying me, being a Yankee, at all.
That would mean they would rarely see her when I took her away. Defying negative pressure from both sets of parents, we planned a July wedding in 1961 at the University Methodist Church on the main street in Chapel Hill. Our parents were not invited, but my best man, Jon Emerson, traveled all the way from the Naval Academy in Annapolis and did his duty in his dress white uniform. Tet’s roommate was the maid of honor.
It was a memorable wedding with maybe twenty good friends. Since we both had jobs, we slipped away for a short three-day honeymoon at The Cloister in Sea Island, GA. From there we each called our parents and gave them the news.
On the return from our honeymoon, I spotted something along the road that interested me and pulled off, claiming that I needed to make a pit stop. I returned to the car with what looked like a flower box containing my purchase. I handed her the box and got behind the wheel of the car while she opened the lid. Instead of flowers, she was shocked to see the mouths of two baby alligators gaping up at her. She married and was stuck with a husband who liked animals, and I give her credit for her tolerance through the years. The Russian wolfhound was only the beginning! We returned to a furnished basement apartment I rented, if you could call it furnished. The mattress on the bed had been well used and had a depression in the center where a meteorite appeared to have crashed. For the short time we were there at least we didn't have to worry about falling out of bed.
