November 28th, 2019
It was March 2011, and I was on a flight from Denver to San Francisco. I was traveling to California for my final coaching course. An exhausted mother of three young sons, I couldn’t wait for the “me-time” the flight would provide. I wouldn’t squander it for anything. At the time, I was reading Unbroken, by Laura Hillenbrand, and I couldn’t wait to bury my head in the book for two solid hours.
After finding my window seat near the back of the plane, I sat with the book on my lap and my headphones on. I wasn’t actually listening to anything. Rather I wanted to send a signal to those around me that I was otherwise encumbered. As in, Please Do Not Disturb.
Soon the middle and aisle seat passengers–a man and woman–arrived and sat in their seats next to me. Once buckled in, the man to my left in the middle seat, greeted me with a friendly smile and Hello, and the woman in the aisle seat did the same. I reciprocated before returning to my book.
The man then asked me if I was traveling for work or fun. A little annoyed at the interruption, but wanting to be friendly, I said, “mostly for work.” I shared that I was going to my last coaching course but that I had also built in some fun. My husband would fly out to join me in a few days and we’d hike and make a quick trip to Napa. The man introduced himself as Kit and then introduced me to the woman in the aisle seat, his sister. Kit shared that they were going to San Francisco to visit their niece. It was a pleasant exchange but I really wanted to get back to my book so I put my headphones back on and returned to Unbroken.
A few minutes later, Kit asked me something else. I can’t recall exactly what because it was almost nine years ago, but I kindly answered, while closing my book and removing my headphones.
I love people, and I’m curious to a fault so I did what I often do when I meet someone new: I started asking questions. A lot of them. Before long, I knew that Kit lived in Colorado Springs, that he was divorced, semi-retired from a job that had something to do with computer chips, and that he had recently begun drawing on his Social Security. I learned that he was taking an art history class and that he had dreams of traveling the world, but wished he had someone to do it with. He told me about his children and grandchildren. He asked me questions too, and we had a wonderful conversation that covered a range of topics and lasted most of the flight.
After exiting the plane, I walked with Kit and his sister to the baggage claim. They introduced me to their niece, who was lovely and there to pick them up. Kit and I exchanged contact information and I promised to email him information about my favorite hikes in Muir Woods. After our farewells, I watched as Kit and his sister loaded their luggage into the trunk of their niece’s car, and I felt blessed to have met them. While I didn’t get to read my book, I definitely did not squander my time!
A week and a half later, following my California trip, I was on a road-trip with two of my best friends, Kathy and Holly. We were driving to West Yellowstone, MT., to cross country ski in a 24-hour ski festival. Like me, Holly and Kathy are voracious readers and we often discuss books. I had finally finished reading Unbroken and I was giving it rave reviews.
As I was telling them about the book, I mentioned my recent San Francisco flight and how I had planned on reading the book during the flight if not for the friendly man seated next to me.
I explained that instead of reading, I engaged in conversation with the man, named Kit. Proud of my “interviewing” skills, I shared with Kathy and Holly a sampling of what I was able to learn about Kit during our flight. More or less, I told them Kit was “a handsome man from Colorado who was divorced, semi-retired, had just started drawing on his social security, was interested in art history, and had dreams of traveling the world.”
Holly, in the back seat, suggested, “Maybe we should introduce him to my Mom.”
Holly’s mom, Sharon, is one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met. Tragically, her husband had passed away two years earlier. Holly’s mom was healing but still grieving the loss of her beloved life partner, with whom she had made so many plans for the future.
At first, I chuckled at Holly’s suggestion. It seemed preposterous. But then I told her I had the man’s email address and if she was serious, and her mom agreed to it, I could send an email to Kit about a possible intro. Upon our return from the ski trip, Holly asked her mom if she was open to such an introduction, and while Holly’s mom wasn’t particularly optimistic given the geographical distance, she gave us the green light.
I emailed Kit and explained that I was sorry if I was overstepping and sorry if my note was awkward. I wrote that I enjoyed meeting him and that he seemed like a wonderful catch for someone I knew. I shared briefly about my dear friend’s mom, an amazing woman who had lost her husband two years earlier. I wondered if he’d be open to an introduction. I included Sharon’s phone number in the email before signing off.
Kit emailed me back. He appreciated that I thought of him as a suitable prospect for my friend’s mom and said he’d consider reaching out to her.
A couple of days passed and on March 23, 2011, Kit called Sharon.
And the rest is history.
“Something clicked on that first call,” explains Sharon. “We ended up talking every evening for a couple of weeks before finally meeting in person. It was obvious that we had many shared goals and values, and there was mutual chemistry that made it worth dealing with the distance issue however we could.”
It’s been almost nine years since that first phone call and by all indications, Kit and Sharon are living happily ever after. They share two homes, one in Colorado Springs and the other in San Diego. They spend time with their blended families, including their children and grandchildren. They have enjoyed countless adventures and have traveled extensively.
“We are seeing the world together,” reports Kit. “Our first trip was to Prague, then down the Danube to Budapest, seeing the sights and cities (Salzburg, Vienna, etc.) along the way. Next we went to Greece, Turkey, Montenegro, Croatia, and Italy. Then it was to Russia with friends, cruising from Moscow to St. Petersburg , stopping at lots of smaller towns between the two. After that we cruised down the Rhine River from Switzerland, where we went high into the Alps, and to Amsterdam and to France and Germany.”
They also traveled to Africa (Tanzania) with Sharon’s daughter Holly and family in 2017, and in 2018, they traveled to Vietnam and Cambodia, and to England, Scotland, and Norway. They are currently planning trips to Italy and Switzerland. In addition to their international travels, they’ve also enjoyed many trips throughout the U.S. Currently, they are looking forward to a trip to Isle Royale National Park, and a Viking Baltic Cruise.
“After eight years we still love each other dearly, have a deep concern for each other’s happiness, and can’t imagine not being together,” says Sharon.
A few years ago, I was in San Diego for work and Kit and Sharon invited me to stay with them in their new home. (I was their first house guest.) After arriving, we took a stroll on a nearby beach before Sharon cooked a delicious meal for us. After much wonderful and meaningful conversation, we said our goodnights and I retreated to the guest room.
As I got settled, I noticed a book on the nightstand.
Can you guess which one?
_________________________________________________________________
P. S. I don’t believe in coincidences. On that March day in 2011, while flying through the skies between Denver and San Francisco, I think was an instrument for the Universe, placed in that particular seat to facilitate what could, if all the necessary and subsequent “connections” were made, facilitate a love story. What if I would have kept my head buried in the book during my flight? What if I hadn’t mentioned reading the book, Unbroken, during my road-trip with Kathy and Holly? I’m so glad I didn’t squander my time reading my book. And finally, one more thing: Since helping to matchmake Kit and Sharon, I have match-made another couple, Florian and Mary. Florian and Mary are married and have a 3-year-old son. But that’s another story that I will tell another time.)
Following are some photos Sharon and Kit shared with me:
Cambodia, 2017.
Russia, 2014.
Celebrating their new home in San Diego, 2014.
With Sharon’s daughter Holly and her family in Africa, 2017.
Swiss Alps, 2015.
- Categories: Adventure, Life and Leadership, Travel
- Tags: airplane story, flight, love story, matchmaker, matchmaking, no coincidences, serendipity, strangers, universe
- Comments: 2 Comments
December 20th, 2017
Hi there!
I met Jerry in Omaha on Aug. 9, 1990, at a rehearsal for a wedding in Omaha. It was the wedding of Jody and Kathy, two people who are dear to us, and Jerry was a groomsman and I was a bridesmaid. Jerry was talking loudly to the other groomsmen, almost as if he wanted to get my attention. Which he did. I noticed him as I was talking with the other bridesmaids.
Well, at weddings, love is in the air. And Jody and Kathy’s wedding was no exception. Love was in the air, and it was a fantastic celebration with many family and friends of Jody and Kathy in attendance. After the wedding, there was a reception and there was dancing. Jerry and I flirted with each other and danced all night.
The next day, I flew back to Missoula, Montana, where I was finishing up my journalism degree, and Jerry returned to Dayton, OH, where he was a physical therapy tech in the Air Force.
1990 was before cell phones and email. So we wrote letters to each other, and Jerry flew out to Missoula a few months later to celebrate Thanksgiving with me. We cooked a turkey – the first time for each of us – and we had a great holiday.
We continued writing letters to each other on an almost-daily basis. We have a trunk of our love letters from that long-distance early courtship. (They are among my most cherished possessions.) Our long-distance phone calls became more frequent, and our trips to see each over long weekends became more frequent, even if we couldn’t at the time afford them.
In the process of all of this, we fell in love.
We invested a lot of energy, letter writing and phone calls to discovering more about each other. It wasn’t too long and we found ourselves talking about the future as if it was something we would some day share. We shared with each other about our goals, our fears and our values.
One night, in November of 1991, we were on our weekly phone call – Jerry in Ohio and me in Montana –and Jerry told me, something to this effect: I know we’re going to be together some day. And I know you’re probably getting asked by all of your friends, “Are you and Jerry going to get married?” Or “When are you and Jerry going to get married?” And I just want you to know that while I hope we will get married someday, I’m not going to be proposing this Christmas.”
I wasn’t disappointed, because I knew our love was real, and that the proposal would likely come at some point. It wasn’t like I was “waiting” to get married. I was starting my career in a place I loved, and our relationship felt strong and wonderful.
That said, I appreciated the conversation, and that Jerry gave me this “heads up.” Still, it felt a little awkward, so I quickly responded with, “That’s no problem at all, honey. In fact, what I really need – if you’re interested – are some new cross trainers. (I was playing a lot of racquetball at that time, and I did in fact need a new pair of shoes, what called at the time “cross trainers.” For those of you reading this who are too young to know what cross trainers are, they are a type of sports shoe suitable for a range of sporting or exercise activities.)
“Ideally, they’d be Reebok,” I added.
For some reason, that Christmas, I didn’t come home to Wyoming. I think it was because I was working my first career job as an advertising sales consultant at The Missoulian newspaper and was working through the holiday, not to mention I had no vacation time left due to the various Fridays I had taken off to visit Jerry in Dayton, Ohio. And, it should be mentioned I really needed to earn income, given the phone bills and plane ticket bills that were stacking up on the personal credit card.
Jerry and I, when it all started… (We were “kids!” I was 23 and Jerry was 27)
Jerry was going to be flying into Missoula to spend the Christmas holiday with me, and he was due to arrive in the evening of Dec. 20.
Dec. 20, 1991, was a Friday, which meant I did as I usually did and went to Happy Hour at a favorite bar with some Missoulian coworkers. This particular bar had the best long island iced teas, and was famous for its “nachos bar.” We had a great time and I was excited and blabbing on and on to my coworkers about Jerry’s pending arrival and our upcoming time together. I indulged in only one beverage since I had to drive about 7 miles to the airport to meet and pick up Jerry.
I stopped at home first, where I had a message on my answering machine (do you remember what those were?!). It was a message from Jerry calling from his layover in the Denver airport, saying his flight would be delayed by an hour but that he couldn’t wait to see me. So I putzed around, trying to pass the time, feeling excited as I anticipated Jerry’s arrival.
Impatient, I headed to the airport early. In 1991, Missoula was about 35% smaller in population than it is now. The airport was quaint and not very big. I was one of the only ones at the airport and I was early, so I wandered around looking at the various house plants, and looking outside one of the windows every now and then.
At the time, my mode of transportation was a gray, Ford Taurus. And it burned oil. Or maybe it leaked oil. I have a great memory, but for some reason I can’t remember which problem the Taurus had. I just remember I was seemingly always adding oil to it “just to make sure” it had oil.
As I wandered around the airport, with nothing to do and time on my hands, it occurred to me to go add a quart of oil to the car while I had the time – and to ensure we’d make it back to my apartment with no vehicle problems. We didn’t want to squander any of our precious time on the side of the road with car problems fresh after being reunited. 🙂
As I was outside pouring oil into my car, I noticed a bearded man with a huge video camera over his shoulder. (People who are my age or older will remember that back in the early 1990s, a high quality video camera was big enough to hold a gigantic VHS tape, and then some, and it was so big that one had to “rest” it on your shoulder to bear its heavy weight and to keep it steady.) This man with the camera on his right shoulder seemed at first to be lurking a bit. It was as if he was trying to see my face as he walked by. I thought he was going to ask if I had car problems and if I needed help, but he just said “Hello,” and continued into the airport.
After I added the oil to the car, I did the same.
There was Christmas music playing throughout the airport and slowly, more people started arriving. Jerry’s flight, which had a brief stop to make in Bozeman, was due to arrive shortly. So I just waited and fidgeted. I was so excited to see Jerry! We were in love, and, well, the saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder, is absolutely true.
Those of us waiting for passengers that were on the flight, started to line up by the doors that would be the ones they would all came through after landing and disembarking the plane. I was first in line. Of course.
I waited in anticipation for those doors to open. And then they did. Passengers started coming through. There were many passengers. More than 100. The first few stopped as they approached me, and asked me, “Are you Shelli?” And I said, surprised and confused, “Yes.” At first, I thought the worst – that they were going to tell me Jerry didn’t get on the flight and that they were asked to pass a message along to me. I didn’t know why else they would ask me if I was Shelli.
But the crowd continued and each of them stopped when they got to me, and each stuck a Christmas bow to my body or head or handed me a bow, or patted me on the shoulder, saying, “Merry Christmas” or “Congratulations.” I was confused, and I was blushing from all of the attention.
Covered in bows and growing impatient to see my boyfriend, I just figured Jerry, who is romantic, wanted me to feel special, and maybe he thought having so many people wish me a Merry Christmas would make for an unforgettable experience. Mission accomplished. Now, where’s Jerry?! I thought to myself.
And then, “Ho Ho Ho.”
One more time, I heard a deep-voiced, loud “Ho Ho Ho.”
I looked up and – finally – I see Jerry, only he’s Santa Claus. Dressed in a Santa hat and coat, he rushed toward me and we embraced. Jerry hugged me so tightly that I was lifted off the ground. After he set me back on the ground, he looked at me, and exclaimed, “Merry Christmas!”
And then, next thing I know, Jerry’s on his knee, holding my hands and asking me to “open the present” that is taped to his chest. I peel off the wrapping paper from the front of his Santa coat, and there are the words: “Shelli: Will You Marry Me?”
I melt. I couldn’t believe it. I thought I was getting cross trainers.
Right after I said Yes.
I said, YES! Of course I’ll marry you! We had some brief happy tears, and a little more public display of affection, before we heard applause and whooping and hollering.
The passengers and flight attendants that Jerry had enlisted during the flight to help him with his proposal, as well as others who had gathered out of curiosity, congratulated us. And there was champagne! The flight attendants located a few bottles of champagne and poured several small servings to distribute to everyone. It was a fantastic celebration for us, and it was meaningful to share it with a bunch of wonderful strangers who had played a part in helping Jerry propose to me.
Oh, and this is all on video. Remember the bearded man with the huge video camera on his shoulder who seemed to be lurking? That was a guy also named Jerry, who Jerry had hired to capture the whole event. The moment is recorded! (Unfortunately it’s on VHS, but I’m getting it transferred to digital as I write this.)
Jerry and I celebrated 25 years of marriage this past August. We have three sons – Wolf, 17, Hayden, 15, and Fin, 10, who are our greatest blessings. This memory of when Jerry asked me to be his wife, and when I said Yes, is a significant one because, in fact, I would not have this great life, or our sons, if not for Jerry choosing me and asking me to marry him on this day 26 years ago.
I feel compelled to mention here that just because Jerry and I are still deeply in love and celebrated our 25th anniversary doesn’t mean our marriage hasn’t been at times challenging or that it’s all bliss all the time. That would be lying. We have done a lot of work, and growing, and overcoming of struggles, to get to where we’re at.
This year, to commemorate our 25th anniversary we embarked on a 25-mile day hike that included climbing a (previously) unnamed mountain that is dear to us. That 25-mile epic journey was similar to the 25-year epic journey that has been our marriage. It was 10.5 miles of hiking before we even got to the part where would start climbing our mountain. At times, the terrain was loose and felt uncertain. The adventure had many sections that were just sheer work. At a couple of points, clouds came in quickly and we grew concerned, causing us to check in with each other and make sure we were in agreement on continuing or playing it safe. At times we wondered if we were up to the task. We got tired often, demotivated at times, and every now and again, impatient with one another. There were times when I was strong and Jerry wasn’t, and the other way around. There was also a lot fun, great conversations, laughing, inspirations, amazing views, and an epic celebration, complete with champagne, on the mountain’s summit. Like I said, our 25-mile day hike and mountain climb was a perfect metaphor for our 25 years of marriage. It was the best kind of celebration. Hard-earned and fulfilling.
I’m so glad I didn’t get cross trainers. 🙂
People like Warren Buffett and Sheryl Sandberg have referred to the choosing of a partner in life as being the most important decision one will make in his/her life. I couldn’t agree more.
A couple of my closest friends get a little irritated when I refer to Jerry as my best half. Not because they think he’s not amazing, but because they are my close friends and they don’t want me to sell myself short. That’s kind of them, and I love them dearly for it. But I’m sorry, friends. Jerry is my best half. Most, if not all of my successes in the last 25 years would not have been possible without the unconditional love and support that Jerry provides for me. I wouldn’t take the chances that I take with my business and work without his belief and love and support. It’s that simple. And we wouldn’t be living this epic life if Jerry weren’t such a fantastic “trooper” and so open to an adventurous life.
Thank you with all of my heart for reading this, and for walking with me down this memory’s lane.
I wish you and yours a Merry Christmas and happy new year!
THEN. Jerry and I, 26 years ago. (This is our “engagement photo”.)
Now. Jerry and I, with our three sons, and our dog, Buddy.
