John R. Anderson '64 and Theresa (Hjersman) Anderson '67
During the winter of the 1963-64 school year, I had moved back into the Gamma House to room with Carey Long '69.
At this time it was the custom to have a open kitchen coffee hour at 10 p.m. each week night where the members could make coffee and “kill” any leftover dessert from dinner.
Having had a great pumpkin pie at dinner that night, a large group of house members were eager to have the door unlocked so we could feast upon the pie. Once the door was unlocked, a few minutes late might I add, we rushed to find the fraternity officers were entertaining a group of Thetas who had come over for a social visit to make dates for a sorority function. So much for any leftover pie. With the group of upper-class Thetas were several freshmen including one tall girl who seemed nervous about being a frat house kitchen, but very glad to be out of the dorm. Unfortunately, the girl already had a date for the sorority dance.
The next week I tried to find the girls name so I could call her in hopes of taking her out to coffee at the Tick Tock café. It took me over a week to find out that a girl called “Jersman” spelled her name in the student guide as Hjersman. I called her and she agreed to a coffee date even though all the time she sounded like she could not place my name and face together. After that it was the usual Pacific social life: movie dates, walks at night, and fraternity/sorority activities. Three months later, I asked her to stay for my graduation. She accepted, stayed for the graduation and was driven back to Sacramento, Calif., by my folks as I continued on to Washington State University.
The next year I often drove 300 miles between PU and WSU to see Terrie and several times she visited me at WSU (ask Karen Bromberg about being stranded in Walla Walla over night during one Thanksgiving trip to Pullman). The next winter we were married. February, 1965, and Terrie joined me at WSU. Hard to believe that was 42 years ago next week. That woman has endless patience with me. Who else would ride up behind me on a motorcycle all over the west coast and Gettysburg, Penn.
Interesting how one piece of pumpkin pie, which I never got, can make your life.
Posted by Martha Calus-Mclain (email@example.com) on Jan 31, 2011 at 2:46 PM
Edited by Rachael Burbank (firstname.lastname@example.org) on Feb 15, 2012 at 2:40 PM