A few months ago, I shared a glimpse into a very special celebration – our wedding anniversary. Alongside a cherished photo, I hinted at a story that many of you have since asked me to tell. It’s a tale that’s far from ordinary, steeped in destiny, and a testament to the unexpected paths love can take. Finally, with life settling into a new rhythm after our recent move to South Carolina, I found the perfect opportunity to delve into old boxes, unearthing precious photos and, most importantly, a trove of letters that form the heart of this narrative.
This isn’t a short story, but one I promise has a profoundly happy ending. Even some of my dearest friends, whom I met years after saying “I do,” don’t know the full, intricate details of how Ed and I came to be. So, grab your favorite mug, fill it with your beverage of choice, and settle in. This is the story of how fate, a deployed Navy ship, and a stack of heartfelt letters brought us together.
Our Unforgettable Love Story: How I Met My Husband Ed
The day etched forever in my memory, May 7, 1983, marks the first time my eyes met my husband, Ed. This momentous encounter took place aboard the formidable U.S. Navy ship, the USS Arkansas CGN-41. However, to truly appreciate the depth and serendipity of our meeting, we must rewind a few months, back to the very beginning of our unconventional journey.
The Seed of a Pen Pal Romance: Matchmakers at Work
Five months prior to that pivotal day, a pair of unwitting matchmakers set the wheels in motion. Pictured here are my best friend from college, Steph, and her then-boyfriend, Bob, who is now her loving husband. Bob was a naval officer serving alongside Ed on the USS Arkansas, which was deployed for a six-month tour in the Mediterranean. Their connection, unbeknownst to them, would become the catalyst for mine.
It was early January 1983 when Steph’s call came through. We were both two years out of college; I was immersed in the world of retail display in Philadelphia, living comfortably with my parents, while Steph was navigating grad school life in Virginia Beach. After the usual pleasantries and catching up on holiday news, she finally revealed the true purpose of her call: she wanted to know if I’d be interested in writing to one of Bob’s fellow officers on the ship. She painted a glowing picture of him and the entire officer group, describing them as an exceptional bunch. My initial reaction was a firm “no way.” The thought of corresponding with a complete stranger seemed utterly bizarre. Yet, Steph, ever persistent, urged me to at least jot down his name and the ship’s mailing address. I complied, tucking the slip of paper into my desk drawer with no intention of ever using it. I promptly forgot about it.
A couple of weeks later, after a rather uninspiring date with a perfectly nice but utterly unsuitable fellow, that forgotten address resurfaced in my mind. A tiny voice whispered, “Why not? What do you have to lose?” And with that simple, impulsive thought, I decided to take a chance. I found a pen and paper, and began to write. I penned a letter introducing myself, sharing a few details about my life, and sent it off, convinced I would never hear back. Little did I know, that small act would change everything.
A Flood of Letters: Building a Connection Across the Ocean
To my immense surprise, about a week later, an envelope bearing the distinct USS Arkansas CGN-41 stationery lay waiting for me when I arrived home from work. My heart leaped. I tore it open, devouring every word. “Wow!” I remember thinking, reading and re-reading his thoughtful reply several times. That very night, I sat down and wrote back, eager to continue our unexpected conversation.
And so, a beautiful, unique correspondence began. Another week passed, bringing another letter, then another, and another. Sometimes, due to the routing through an FPO box in NYC, the letters would arrive in batches – three, four, even five at a time, often out of sequence. Each arrival was a moment of pure joy and anticipation. My mother and younger sister, still in high school, became just as captivated by this unfolding pen pal romance as I was. When I’d walk through the door after work, their first eager question would always be, “You got four letters today!” or “Only one?” or “You got a postcard from [port stop]!” Their excitement mirrored my own, turning the simple act of receiving mail into a daily family event. Through these written words, exchanged across vast distances, a deep and meaningful connection was forged, far beyond what casual conversations could ever achieve.
We corresponded several times a week, sharing our lives, thoughts, and dreams in a way that felt incredibly intimate. We even exchanged photos – I found one of Ed in Italy and my college graduation photo among my keepsakes. We also attempted a phone call once, but the reception was so poor and the connection so tenuous that it ended up being more awkward than enlightening. Our bond was truly built on the power of the written word.
A Leap of Faith: Meeting the Family Before the Man
After about two months of intense letter writing, a truly astonishing request arrived in one of Ed’s letters: he asked if I would be willing to meet his parents. Remember, I still hadn’t met *him*; he was still out at sea, thousands of miles away. His parents, living in Baltimore, were just as intrigued by our unconventional correspondence as my own family. Despite the unusual circumstances, I agreed, committing to spend a weekend at their suburban Baltimore home.
To express my gratitude, I baked a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies, carefully packing them into a small picnic hamper lined with a cheerful madras print. The drive down to Baltimore felt surreal. When I arrived, they greeted me with genuine warmth and open arms, immediately making me feel like part of the family as we shared a delicious dinner. The next day, we planned to attend a lacrosse game in Annapolis, but the weather had other plans, raining it out. Instead, we spent the day sightseeing around the historic city, enjoying each other’s company. I left Sunday morning, feeling a profound sense of connection with them. They were incredibly gracious, ensuring I felt completely at ease, dispelling any potential awkwardness of meeting the parents of a man I only knew through letters.
In the weeks that followed, our correspondence doubled in volume. I still possess every single one of those treasured letters. As May approached, bringing with it the eagerly anticipated return of the USS Arkansas to Norfolk, Steph and Ed’s parents began coordinating plans for all of us to be at the pier. I soon learned that a ship’s return is a major event – a jubilant occasion filled with live bands, festive decorations, and families waiting anxiously on the pier, ready to embrace their loved ones after six long months apart. The anticipation was palpable, and I knew the moment of truth was drawing near.
The Day We Finally Met: A Rainy Reunion on the Pier
And so, we arrive back at that significant day in May, the day I would finally meet the man whose words had captured my heart. I meticulously chose a new dress and handbag, wanting to make the best possible impression. Joining Ed’s parents, I met Steph on the bustling pier. The morning started with a promise of sunshine, but quickly turned into a dramatic downpour. It wasn’t a gentle rain; it was an absolute deluge, soaking everyone to the bone. My new cloth handbag, unfortunately, bled its dye onto my equally new, now drenched dress. My carefully styled hair succumbed to the humidity, all its curls wilting into limp strands. This was certainly not the elegant entrance I had envisioned for my first meeting with Ed, the Lieutenant Henkler I had been writing to for four and a half months.
Just as the ship majestically came into view, the rain miraculously ceased. A wave of relief, mixed with overwhelming excitement, washed over the crowd. Once the USS Arkansas docked, family members were permitted to board. We were escorted to the Officers Ward Room for lunch. The room was abuzz with activity, filled with officers, their spouses, and children, all sharing joyful embraces and shedding happy tears of reunion. Everyone there knew I was “the girl” waiting to meet Lt. Henkler, but he was nowhere to be seen. As the ship’s engineer on duty that morning, he had the critical task of ensuring every system on the vessel was properly shut down—a meticulous process that would take a grueling two hours. Lunch was served and cleared, yet no one departed. They all lingered, their anticipation mirroring mine, eager to witness our much-anticipated first meeting. The atmosphere was a mix of celebratory joy and slightly stressful expectation.
Given my thoroughly soaked state, I was offered a large, bulky sweater to keep warm, which did little for my desired first impression. Every time the ward room door creaked open, a hush fell over the room, and all eyes would shift first to the door, then to me. Finally, *finally*, Ed walked through that door. The room erupted in cheers and applause as our eyes met. We rushed towards each other, and in that unforgettable moment, we shared our first kiss. It was a scene straight out of a movie, a perfect, emotional climax to months of written anticipation. I will truly never forget the sheer magic of that moment.
Soon after, everyone else respectfully departed, leaving just Ed, myself, and his parents. Ed, however, was still on duty and couldn’t leave the ship for another 24 hours. His parents and I stayed for about 30 minutes, savoring the initial connection, before heading to Ed’s house in Newport News. I had to wait another full day after that initial, electrifying meeting on the ship before he was finally off duty and walked through the door of his own home. It felt like an eternity, but it was worth every second.
Ed’s parents left the following day. I stayed a few more days, immersing myself in this new reality, before I had to return to work. During this precious time, Ed asked me if I would accompany him to his best friend’s wedding later that May in Pensacola, Florida. Without hesitation, I said yes.
We flew down to the wedding, and this photograph captures us there, just about ten days after our in-person meeting. It felt as if we had known each other for years, not days. Our extensive correspondence meant we had shared every detail, every thought, in a way that surpassed typical initial dating conversations. We felt an incredible depth of understanding for one another, built entirely on those treasured letters.
A Whirlwind Engagement and a Cross-Country Adventure
During our time together, Ed also revealed that the ship’s port was being relocated to San Francisco, and he would need to move to California in July. Then came the profound question: he wanted to know if I would move out there with him. It seemed illogical, after finally connecting so deeply, not to pursue this path together and continue to build our relationship. I reasoned, “Why not?” When I broached the subject with my parents, they were initially apprehensive. However, their minds were completely changed after they met Ed the following weekend. His charm and sincerity won them over, and they gave us their heartfelt blessing.
I promptly resigned from my job and returned to Virginia to help Ed pack up his house, preparing for our monumental move to San Francisco. During that incredibly eventful week, Ed proposed. Of course, I joyfully accepted! Our letters had established such an open and candid foundation; we had discussed everything imaginable, making the proposal feel like a natural, exhilarating step forward. Everything was unfolding at an astonishing pace, yet every decision felt undeniably right. Even my closest friends, observing from the sidelines, saw it as perfect synchronicity—fate undeniably at work. I’ve always been one to trust that quiet, intuitive voice in my head; it’s never steered me wrong. This time, it urged me to take the leap, and I embraced it without a moment’s hesitation.
The trek to San Francisco was an epic 10-day adventure. Ed planned to drive the moving truck, with his dog Woody in tow, while I would drive my car. We needed someone to drive Ed’s second car, and his mother bravely volunteered. While I initially harbored some reservations about this arrangement, in hindsight, she was an absolute blast and an incredible help. The journey itself became an unforgettable chapter, made even more memorable by her spontaneous decision to buy a puppy at an interstate gas station in Indiana! Oh, and did I mention, to save money, we decided to camp? In a tent! It was an adventure that deserves an entire post of its own!
Neither Ed nor I had any significant camping experience. My Girl Scout days as a kid didn’t quite count as “real” camping. A few days before the trip, we made a frantic visit to Sears, purchasing a four-man tent, a camp stove, sleeping bags, and everything else we thought essential for a successful campground setup. Our first campground arrival was at dusk, prompting us to use a flashlight to decipher the tent assembly instructions: “Place pole A into slot B on pole C…” It was utterly comical, a true test of our patience and teamwork. Yet, we managed to erect the tent, cook a meal, and survive that first night. By the end of our journey, we had transformed into seasoned camping pros. Despite the logistical challenges of two dogs, two cars, a 24-foot moving truck, Ed’s mom, Ed, and myself, we conquered the country. It was an extraordinary trip, forging bonds and creating memories that we still laugh about today.
A Naval Academy Wedding and a Lifetime of Adventures
The day after arriving in California, we moved into a house in Oakland. Ed and his mom flew back to the East Coast the very next day. Ed had to make a swift turnaround to rejoin his ship and sail it from Norfolk to San Francisco. While he was gone, I immersed myself in our new life, securing a display job at Macy’s in San Francisco and settling into our rented home. I also had two wonderful weeks to truly get to know Woody, Ed’s dog, forming a deep bond before Ed’s return to the Bay Area.
Meanwhile, back home, my mom and sisters were enthusiastically planning our wedding. My only responsibility from my end was finding my wedding dress. My amazing mother meticulously handled every other detail, and I was more than happy to let her take the reins. I don’t think I’ve ever thanked her enough for making our special day so perfect.
On December 3, 1983, a mere seven months after we first met, Ed and I were married at the majestic United States Naval Academy Chapel in Annapolis, Maryland, the very place where Ed had attended college. This location held an even deeper, almost prophetic significance for me. I distinctly recall, at the tender age of twelve, visiting Annapolis with my family and touring the Naval Academy. While inside the chapel, holding my father’s hand, I looked up at him and declared, “Daddy, I’m going to get married here someday.” He simply smiled down at me. It turns out, that childhood declaration was indeed a whisper of fate, and my father remembered it vividly on our wedding day.
It was a late afternoon wedding, bathed in a magical glow, a truly unforgettable start to our married life.
For those unfamiliar with Naval Academy or military weddings, there’s a charming tradition for the bride who isn’t in the military. As she passes through the ceremonial sword arch, the last officer in the arch delivers a gentle “whack” on her backside with his sword, accompanied by the playful declaration, “Welcome to the Navy.” It’s a moment of lighthearted initiation into the military family, a memorable touch to an already special day.
For our honeymoon, we embarked on an incredible adventure with Eastern Airlines’ 21-day passes. Each pass cost $530, granting us unlimited travel across the U.S. and the Virgin Islands within 21 days of our first flight. We maximized this opportunity, flying from California to Annapolis for our wedding, then jetting off to Bermuda for some island bliss. From there, it was on to Disney World for some magical fun, followed by a trip to Chapel Hill, North Carolina, to begin searching for a house. Ed was slated to start a three-year shore tour there while pursuing his Master’s Degree. On the 21st day, we flew back to the West Coast, where we would reside for another six months before our next chapter began.
Following that eventful honeymoon and a brief return to the West Coast, we settled into Durham, North Carolina, for three wonderful years. This photograph captures us at our very first Halloween party there. Ed, channeling his inner hero, was a “Ghost-Buster,” while I embraced the ethereal role of a ghost. Looking back, we were so incredibly young, embarking on a lifetime of shared adventures.
Ed eventually left the Navy shortly after earning his Master’s Degree. Our wonderful matchmaker friend, Bob, however, dedicated his entire career to the Navy. Many years later, we had the incredible opportunity to visit him aboard a ship where he proudly served as captain. It’s a beautiful full-circle moment, realizing that without Bob and his incredible wife, Steph, our entire love story, our family, would simply not exist. Their small act of friendship truly set a monumental chain of events into motion.
Happily Ever After, Just Like in the Movies
A few months ago, my youngest daughter, who adores romantic books and movies, was visiting home. We were curled up, watching a romantic film on TV, and afterwards, she confessed her wish to find a man just like the heroes in the movies. I, with a touch of worldly wisdom, responded, “Life isn’t really like the movies, sweetheart, with a handsome guy just sweeping you off your feet.” She looked at me, a knowing glint in her eye, and simply said, “But you got it.”
Oh my goodness… in that moment, I realized she was absolutely right. I had completely forgotten. I guess, in many ways, I did get my romantic movie script, and we have been living happily ever after ever since.
We are still traveling, though perhaps not camping in tents quite as often as we once did! But our love for each other and for life continues to grow, now spanning 39 wonderful years and counting. Every anniversary is a reminder of those precious letters, the unexpected journey, and the beautiful twist of fate that brought us together.
Now, I’d love to hear your stories. How did you meet your husband or spouse?