The forces that drew Kristie and me together really began
more than 60 years ago with two people we have never met - Jim and Phyllis
Little. It was about 1950 that they
dated and eventually married while attending BYU. I am not certain whether it is factual or
simply hearsay that she was the homecoming queen and he was the most preferred
man, but this much I do know - their children were remarkably good looking. In the spring of 1972 I was impressed with
their daughter Ann and asked her to attend a performance on campus. I got the feeling that she was either shy or not
interested in me. However, at the end of
the school year, she approached me and explained she had an older brother, Jim,
who would be returning from his mission during the summer and she wondered if
he could room with me in the fall, to which I agreed.
I returned to BYU in the fall of 1972 after spending my
fourth summer working for the U.S. Forest Service as a fire lookout in the Blue
Mountains of Oregon. It was convenient living
right across the street from campus by the BYU tennis courts. I remember we often listened to Neil Young's "Harvest"
album on our roommate Jerry Hatfield's new stereo system. Jim Little turned out to be a great roommate,
but it was evident that he was just off his mission and still adjusting to
civilian life. On Sunday we attended our
new student Ward in the old BYU alumni building.
Did I mention that Jim and Phyllis Little had good looking
children? Well, this fact was not wasted
on one Kristie Neilson. She was so
impressed that first Sunday that she asked her roommate, Debbie, who was the
Relief Society President in our student ward (and would marry my roommate Jerry
before the beginning of the winter semester) to make certain their apartment
was assigned to the same Family Home Evening Group as Jim Little. It is rather amazing how Ann and Jim Little
would be the catalysts for Kristie and I to become acquainted.
The Bishop of our student ward also deserves some credit
because he was the one who actually arranged for us to meet by calling us to
serve as family group parents for time and, as it turned out, all eternity - the
details of which are included in my posting "Our Arranged Marriage". While waiting in the old BYU alumni building
for an appointment with Bishop Nance, I started a conversation with a girl named Kristie. She said she
thought she knew why we were there because her roommate was the Relief Society
President and said that she (Kristie) and I were to be called as BYU family
group parents. Kristie stated that she was
really nervous about this calling, to which I replied that I had been a family
father before and there was no need to worry.
I remember thinking Kristie was cute, but she was young, inexperienced
and from Idaho (never mind the fact that I also was from Idaho); and therefore
not someone in whom I would be interested.
At the time I was dating someone and we often wore our matching bush
pants and waffle stomper shoes to family group prayer in the beautiful home where Kristie and Debbie lived.
About three weeks later, Jim and I were walking on campus by
the BYU President's house as Kristie drove by in her little VW bug she called
Toklet. We were able to whistle her down and asked for a ride. She was with her friend Renee and they both
laughed because the entire back seat was completely covered with trash. We push it aside as much as possible and
Kristie drove us home. It was
unforgettable because of all the trash.
It was my sense that while the girl I was dating seemed to like me, I really
hadn't swept her off her feet. I
remember attending a football game where we didn't have that much fun together,
but afterwards Jim Little could not quit laughing and talking about how much
fun he had with Kristie at the game. Shortly
thereafter, the girl I had been dating and myself discussed whether we should date other people. I remember fasting and then sitting by the
Provo Temple as we talked it over. I
asked her what she thought about dating others and she said it was up to
me. I thought, well that confirms the
notion that she really isn't crazy about me because she is okay with dating
others. The importance of that impression
and decision cannot be overlooked.
I determined to ask out other girls, including a brunette (Kristie)
and a blonde in our ward. Because Jim
had gone out with Kristie, I knew that I had to work it out with him so there
wouldn’t be any hard feelings. I didn't
think this would be a problem since he was just home from his mission and so I
approached him with “Do you have any intentions of getting serious with
Kristie?”. He of course had no plans to
get serious with anyone and was okay with me dating her. Shortly after this I went home for
Thanksgiving vacation and received a blessing from my father, wherein he spoke
about how difficult, discouraging and depressing a marriage could be, but he
then added that it would not be 1/100th of the joy that would be experienced
for those who are faithful to their vows of marriage in the eternities.
Upon returning to school I asked Kristie to a basketball
game to watch Kresimer Cosic in the Marriot Center, and I was planning to ask
out the other blonde girl the following week.
We had fun at the basketball game, but strangely I was now intimidated
by Kristie and felt that she really was too cool for me; after all I was only a
farm boy from Idaho. I remember we got something
to eat and were talking in my car under the Dee’s drive-in clown. Because I thought Kristie was too good for me, I
told her that I would like to set her up with a friend of mine (Ron, who was
also from Idaho, but he was a year older and I thought more impressive than
me); to which she said “That's too bad, because I could be interested in
you.” As noteworthy as what she said,
her touching me on the arm with her finger was unforgettable.
I don't know what it is like to take drugs, but those words and
her touch really set my brain on fire. To
use a fishing metaphor (that any Neilson would understand and appreciate), she
hooked me after our first date. After taking
Kristie home, I went back the apartment and found a record album that my
roommate Jerry had borrowed from the Y student center by the group Bread. I put on headphones so I wouldn't bother
anyone else and listened to the song “Look What You've Done”. It includes the lines, "Look, look, look
what you've, done. You have taken the
best of me, now come take the rest of me; finish what you have begun." I played it ten or twelve times thinking
about what Kristie said. All she had to
do was reel me in. It's almost like you
can hear the sound of the fishing reel 'Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...' as I took the
bait and was flopping back and forth with the hook deeply imbedded in my
mouth. I soon realized my happiness was
inexorably connected with hers, but maybe that was just a manifestation of how
much I internalized the hook. Playing
that song over and over while remembering what she said was enough to kindle an
unquenchable fire that has continued to burn all these years.
