The line limped along, weaving around the small airport like snakes in a basket. Had we moved a foot in the past hour? Outside the ground was covered in the heavy, white snow that had brought air traffic to a standstill. I was scheduled to fly out of Huntington that morning, January, 6, 1979, but snow closed the airport. Insanely, I’ddriven to West Virginia’s capital city airport in Charleston, over an hour away, snow continuing to bluster,and on roads that neededhourly plowing.
A tall man in a plaid wool shirt with a guitar strapped across his back stood in front of me. He turned, saw me for the first time, and smiled.”Think we’ll get out of here today?”
I shrugged. “I sure hope so. My brother’s holding a plane for me in Pittsburgh.”
He turned a little more and I hoped he could maneuver without hitting someone with his guitar, primarily me. “Where you headed?” he asked.
“I’m trying to get to the Bahamas.”
We chatted over the clatter of voices, some soft and some harsh, over the intercom spewing instructions and cancellations.
Heappeared nice enough, though he looked as if he’d spent his last nickel on this flight. And traveling with a guitar seemed, well, sort of Bohemian. He was soft spoken, somewhat older than me. Probably not my type.
I made several calls from a row of telephones on the airport wall to my brother. He’d promised half the agents in Pittsburgh a weekend stay at his lake house if they’d hold our charter flight. (Can you imagine doing that today?) And each time I made a call, I left the tall, plaid-shirted stranger in charge of my luggage.
Look, I was desperate and it was a different era.
Each time I walked away, I turned to see Plaid Shirt’s steady gaze follow me.
Plaid Shirt, who introduced himself as Alan, eventually reached the counter, where he took an unusually long time. When it was my turn, I noticed him waiting to the side.
After I’d finished, he asked, “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“No,” I said, “but I coulduse a cheeseburger.”
After one of the numerous calls to my brother, I returned to our table to find my luggage and Alan gone. Had he stolen my luggage?! After a brief search, I discovered my flight had been announced and he’d carried my three pieces of luggage, along with his own and that guitar, to the terminal.
Surprisingly, Alansat next to me on the flight to Pittsburgh,but I switched planes and went on to the Bahamas. Sometime later I found out he hadchanged his flight to lay over in Pittsburgh instead of going to his destination in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, just in case my flight didn’t make it. That’s why he had takenso long with the ticket agent. That and making sure he was ticketed to sit by me.
While in Pittsburgh, he tirelessly badgered the Pittsburgh travel agent, calling repeatedly, to find out where we were staying–confidential information–so he could send me a dozen roses. He persisted, and I received those roses.
That was the beginning of a 16 month courtship and a 35 year marriage.
I haddecided to never marry again, but my mother kept reminding me that I’d said if I ever met a man like Alan I’d marry him. And somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice kept saying, “This is your husband.” It would not go away.
Several things I couldn’t deny; one was the fact that I’d fallen in love, and another was what had happened thatsnowy January morning: I’d left the Huntington airport and driven to Charleston in a blizzard, so unlike me. Ahead of me in line–one line out of more than a dozen–out of hundreds of people crammed into the airport, stood a man in a wool plaid shirt, Alan. Unknown to me, he’d decided, just that morning, to visit a friend in Bethlehem, called the friend, and drove to the airport over snow packed roads. If that’s not enough, my single brother had invited me along on a company excursionwhere he would surely have preferred agirlfriend. There were no coincidences on January, 6, 1979. Alan Stagg walked into my world and not by accident.
When I put it together that God had chosen him for me, I said yes to his marriage proposal.
Ah Karyn, such a lovely, touching story that you have written. You shared part of this with me in San Diego, however I have so enjoyed hearing it again in this writing. You too are amazing together and it is obvious that you have a deep, abiding and shared love. Keep writing my friend! And please tell your hubby that I said well done my friend!
Thank you, Patty darling! I’ll always remember spending time with John and you in San Diego. What a treat that was for us! We are very blessed to have found soul mates! Thank for for your kind words and the encouragement!! I’ll pass along your words to Alan!
I have a friend who likes to say, “That’s not a coincidence, that’s God.”
I love that, Anita. I’ve heard them called Godinstances and use that phrase myself!
I could read that again and again. It’s definitely a God thing. Cause Alan is an Angel (ok sometimes). Love this true story.
Thank you, Cheryl!! It definitely is a God thing, and sometimes Alan is my angel. And then sometimes . . . but most of the time he’s the best!
Karyn! What a beautiful story and I believe in the same divine intervention…no coincidences here…when we talk, I’ll share w/you my story of meeting Ben…yes, in an airport, too…now is that a coincidence, my luv? Probably not. Love this love story and Bohemian Alan! xo
Thank you, Ally darling! I cannot believe you met Ben in an airport, too! That’s too wild! Two old roommates meet their soul mates in an airport! I can’t wait to hear! I actually thought about you when I called Alan bohemian!! LOL! xox
Oh dear sweet Karyn, love this story……you met your match here on earth…..love u both….
I did Susie! Thank you darling girl! Love you too!
Beautiful story!
So glad you like it, Pam. Thank you!
B
Bravo! What a great story. Loved reading it
Fred, it means a lot to me that you like it! Thank you so much.
Wonderful story Karen. Divine intervention causes the cosmic tumblers to fall into place, and we connect with our soulmate.
Thanks, Rod! What you say is true! Sounds like it happened with you, too! So glad!!
Such a beautiful story…..May God always bless you and your husband.
Marcia, how nice to hear from you! Thank you for your very kind words!
Hey there sweet cuz. This was such a sweet story. Loved reading it. xoxo
Thank you, Linda!! Did you read the Mother to Mother story about our Siti? It mentions your Dad. xox.
yes Karyn, I have read all your stories. Loved them all.
What a sweet story, Karyn. Sounds like Fairy Tales really do come true.
LOL! I never thought of it that way, Jo, but the way he pursued me does have a dose of fairy dust to it!
Another beautifully written story. I can just see our Almighty God smiling and saying”I did that”! Such an endearing tale of love and God’s plan for you both! Love you dear friend!!!
So true, Linda. God always has a plan if we will wait on him! Thank you for the kind words! Xo
Darling Karyn,
I have not heard the entire story. It surely is a lovely one that filled my heart and put a smile on my face while reading it.
Wish we could spend more time together you are such a beautiful couple with a great sense of humor.
Miss you always,
Christy
Sweet Christina, how I wish I could see the smile on your face! I really miss seeing you. I thought you’d heard this story, but it’s apparent we didn’t tell as many people as we thought. It was such a God moment. Thank you for the high praise, and I so hope we can get together this year! xox