Severna Park’s Best Love Stories

We’re excited to announce the winners of our Best Love Story contest. Here is the winning entry for Best Overall, along with select snippets from our runners-up. Be sure to visit www.severnaparkvoice.com to read them all in full.

BEST OVERALL

Jean and Bob Andrews

I attended an all-women’s college in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Bob attended an all-male college in Clinton, New York. We both belonged to our respective college choirs when they joined forces at my school for a choral concert. Bob was a freshman and had been advised by his older classmates to lie about his age, as “nobody wants to hang out with a freshman.” I was a sophomore looking for someone as tall as or taller than my 5-foot-10.5-inch height. Not exactly an auspicious beginning to a long-term relationship.

At the mixer after the concert, Bob introduced himself to me as a junior (figuring if he were going to lie, he might as well lie big). He was over 6 feet tall, so we spent time together that evening, having a wonderful time, and wrote letters back and forth, as this was pre-internet and pre-low or no cost on long-distance calling rates) over the next year or so.

That summer, I signed up for a study-abroad program, which necessitated a long layover at Kennedy Airport. Knowing Bob lived in Westchester County, New York, I called his house to see whether he could possibly join me for an hour or so before my flight left. He jumped in his car and headed straight to Kennedy — but not before first cutting a perfect red rose from his family’s garden for me. So romantic!

Two years later, our choirs met again — first in Pittsburgh, and then two weeks later in Clinton. Bob and I had lost track of each other by then, but I assumed he had graduated the year before and been off to graduate school somewhere by now. Medical school? Dental school? Something like that.

I asked a group of guys whether they happened to know what Bob Andrews was up to. They looked confused and said, “What do you mean?”

I said, “Well, do you know what he’s doing now?”

One of them said, “He’s a junior at Hamilton just like us; he just didn’t join the choir this year.”

It took a moment for all of this to sink in and to realize I had been duped all this time with regard to his age. I went back to my room, took out a formal white correspondence card, wrote an unflattering word on the front of it, drew a moderately happy face on the inside, and put it in an envelope with Bob’s name on it. I gave it to one of Bob’s classmates who said he would deliver it.

Two weeks later, my choir arrived at Hamilton for our reciprocal concert. It was the custom at Hamilton to farm out any visiting groups to various fraternities for lunch. As luck would have it, the group I was in was assigned to Alpha Delta Phi. Looking at the latest membership photo revealed that Robert Andrew was indeed a member. Before long, Bob joined the line of fraternity brothers and choir members awaiting lunch. I turned around and said a bit sarcastically, “Hi, Bob!” He looked sufficiently sheepish and confessed that he was very happy his lie was now out in the open.

This time, we didn’t lose track of each other. I ended up going to graduate school near Hamilton. We married in 1971, while Bob was still in dental school. In 1975 and 1977, we had two amazing daughters who have given us a total of six incredible grandchildren and two very worthy sons-in-law. And after almost 46 years of married, Bob and I are still very much in love — despite the fact that I am a year and six days older than he.

MOST UNUSUAL

Carmen and Bryant Collins

And it goes a little something like this…

Back in 1999, my girlfriends and I went to a bar, Sports Fans, in Georgetown on a very cold night in March. This was one of the few bars where they was an 18-and-over policy in place, so all of us could get in. Little did I know I was going to meet my life partner that night, just not in the most conventional way.

I saw this boy across the dance floor, and I was immediately attracted to him. I inched my way over to where he was, and I told the ladies in our group to talk to his friends. Charles was his name, and he told me that he was a cop; in fact, his group of friends were all cops too.

My best friend, Jen, was dancing with this guy, and he spilled beer all over my back. Charles told him to be more careful. So the night ended with Charles and me exchanging numbers, and I was excited over the possibility of dating and attractive, funny and polite police officer.

Through the grapevine a couple of days later, we found out that the group of guys were not cops but security guards. Charles called me a couple of days later, but I didn’t like the fact that he lied, so I never returned his call.

We went back to Sports Fans a couple of weeks later. I was standing at the bar, waiting for my friends to be rounded up so we could leave, and guess who was there — the guy who spilled beer on me! I recognized him and said, “You are not a cop!” with an accusatory tone in my voice.

He looked at me with astonishment and asked, “Who are you?!”

I explained that I talked to Charles, his co-worker, a couple of weeks ago and that he told me all of them were cops, but we found out it was all a lie. This guy said, “I never represented myself as a cop to you or any of your friends; it is against the law to impersonate a police officer; what Charles said is on him, not me!”

I rolled my eyes and turned around. He turned around and talked to his friends. Ten minutes later, I was still waiting in the same spot for my girls, and he turned around and asked what I was doing standing around.

I laughed and he offered to buy me a drink. I asked for water. We talked about everything in the world. He was 22 and his name was Bryant. We wanted to exchange numbers, but this was way before cell phones were popular, and neither of us had pens or paper on us. I grabbed a napkin, ran over to the DJ and asked to borrow a pen. Luckily for us, he let us borrow it.

After about a month of playing phone tag, we finally decided to go out on a date on April 20, 1999. He came to pick me up, and to be completely honest, I did not remember what he looked like. It had been too long. I just remember that we clicked and that we had a really good conversation. We went to Clyde’s in Columbia, then a movie (“Never Been Kissed”). The rest is history, as they say.

We got married in 2007, and we have two girls, Annabel Blair (2) and Patricia Elaine (1). We moved to Severna Park in 2013 and we love this community.

Throughout our 18 years together, we have had high and lows, but our faith, our family and a lot of laughter keep us going strong.

MOST ROMANTIC

Bonnie Coughlin

The year was 1990 and it was a couple weeks before Thanksgiving. Navy football was giving away tickets to a home game; all you had to do was bring in canned goods. My friend Keith called up Dawn, Donna, Sandy and myself to see whether we wanted to go. We said sure.

We gathered up our canned goods and sat in the cold and the rain to watch Navy lose. While at the game, my friend Dawn ran into another friend who mentioned that on the yard that night there was going to be a Navy mixer and that we should all go. Dawn was completely onboard with the idea. She said that we all needed to go and dance with some hot mids to help us get over Navy's disappointing loss.

While the thought of hot mids did sound very appealing, all I really wanted to do after sitting in the cold all day was to go home, put on my PJs, climb into bed and watch a movie, but it looked as if my date with my PJs was not to be. Dawn's power of persuasion was stronger, so all of us girls ended up putting on our dancing shoes and heading back down to the academy.

The whole way down to Annapolis, I was determined to be in a bad mood, since home is where I really wanted to be. I said that I would go, but under no circumstances would I dance with anyone, no matter who asked or how cute he was. We arrived at the mixer and hit the dance floor right away. As the music started pumping, I felt my reluctance slipping away, and I started enjoying the dance.

My girlfriends and I were really starting to get into the music when two mids came over and asked whether they could join us. I looked over at the first mid. He was an attractive blonde, and then I looked over at his friend and found myself staring into the biggest, most beautiful hazel eyes I had ever seen. I was captivated!

I became aware of only him. I knew I was dancing but had no idea whether I was moving in time with the music or not. All I could focus on was those incredible eyes and his adorable smile.

The next thing I knew, he had traded places with my friend Dawn and was dancing next to me. The music slowed down, and the boy with the beautiful eyes was asking me whether I wanted to dance with him. I couldn't believe it. All those girls at the mixer, and he chose me to take into his arms and hold close. I was so nervous. I felt as if I had to fill the silence with words. I know I was talking nonsense, but I couldn't help myself.

I asked him whether he had any gum, of all the stupid things to ask! He didn't, but he asked me to wait right here, and then that sweet boy with the incredible eyes proceeded to ask everyone at the mixer for gum until he found me a piece. We spent the rest of the night inseparable; we danced and talked, and I was having one of the best nights of my life! But like all good things, the night had to come to an end. Dawn and the other girls went to get the car while he walked me outside of Dahlgren Hall. We were standing outside waiting when he started backing up into a corner and saying, “Could you come here a second? I want to tell you something.” Then he pulled me into his arms and kissed me! This was the kiss I had been waiting for all my life, all other kisses before this kiss failed in comparison. I saw fireworks. My knees went weak. I knew that this was the man for me, and we have been happily married for 24 years!

BEST TEARJERKER

In 1999, I was sitting in Mrs. Rowland’s seventh-grade class at SPMS when a cute boy with curly hair strutted into the room, and I remember thinking, “Who is this kid?”

That kid was Sumner Handy, now my fiancé: the man who makes me laugh, gives me advice, changes the headlights in my car, acts as navigator on our trips, explains forced plays in baseball — and explains them again when I forget — makes me dance at weddings, and ensures that I never run out of mint chocolate chip ice cream. He’s the man for whom my son is our son, and he’s my best friend.

In middle and high school, Sumner and I took most of the same classes. Our social circles overlapped, and we flirted in that fickle way that teenagers are wont to do. During the summer between our junior and senior years, Sumner was one of the friends who would come over to my house on weekends and swim in the dark Magothy. We swam and chased, gossiped and giggled. When I think of that summer, I remember the leftover fireworks that folks across the river set off long after the Fourth of July, the explosions of red and purple reflected in the rippling black water.

Sometime that summer, Sumner asked me — via AOL Instant Messenger, of course — to do something with him — just him. An explosion of AIM conversations with my girlfriends ensued. Was this a date? What does he think this is? No, definitely not a date. But maybe …

We went to Ann’s Dari-Creme and then … nothing. We stayed friends and tried one more awkward date during our freshman year of college.

After graduating from UMD, Sumner taught with Teach for America in Hawaii while getting his first master’s. I graduated from Loyola and, after having my son, Jonah, in 2009, started teaching high school.

In 2010, Sumner found out he had cancer and returned to Maryland. He underwent chemotherapy before having a lower leg amputation in 2011. I saw Sumner soon after his surgery at a friend’s house, and that is where he met Jonah for the first time. Jonah, then having just turned 2, figured tackling Sumner, who was on crutches, was the best way to say hello, but Sumner, not missing a beat, scooped him right up.

Since Sumner and I were both back in Severna Park, we decided it would be good for both of us to see someone outside our immediate families. As we got to know one another again, we went to the pool and to Kinder Farm; Sumner taught Jonah how to throw a Frisbee and lifted him high above his head into more “air jails” than I can count; we went to trivia nights with old high school friends; and what-are-you-doing-this-weekend stopped being a question.

In 2012, we ended what we call the nebula and acknowledged that we were, in fact, together. Since then, Sumner has helped me get through grad school, taking Jonah scooting around the DC monuments while I was in class; we’ve gone to Jamaica, Hawaii and Oregon; we’ve watched our O’s and Sumner’s Sox and more untimed little league games than ought to be allowed; but mostly, we just toss around a baseball, football, any ball in the backyard with Jonah. We’ve attended nine weddings, and now we are planning our own.

In 2015, Sumner, with Jonah’s help, proposed in my backyard, overlooking the Magothy, where we spent those summer nights 12 years before under the watchful eyes of my parents, swimming, flirting and waiting for fireworks.

Sarah Downey and Sumner Handy

MOST HEARTFELT

DJ Gile

I was on my second deployment to Afghanistan in 2006 when I decided that I'd reenlist and make the Army a career. With the U.S. involvement overseas, I accepted the fact that I'd likely be deployed too often to settle down and marry until after I reached retirement. I came to terms with being single and informed my family of my plan when I returned home in time for Christmas that year.

After a few days in my hometown, I drove the 90 miles into Chicago to see some friends. We ended up at a downtown bar, and my group of guys ended up talking to a group of girls. As luck would have it, the girl I started speaking with, Dawn, was also from my hometown, and though we'd never met, we knew some of the same people there.

The evening flew by as we spent hours engaged in conversation about her life as an attorney in Illinois and mine as a soldier in Maryland. At the end of the night, we exchanged phone numbers and made plans to get together again on New Year’s Eve in two days.

We met as planned and found ourselves again locked in conversation all evening. The next day, I had to return to my duty station in Maryland. My drive back was filled with thoughts of Dawn, as well as frequent contact through calls and texts. It was during this drive that I realized my plan for being single until after retirement may not pan out.

When I got home, I found a Christmas present from my roommate: two tickets to see my favorite band, The Dears, at the 9:30 Club.

I asked Dawn whether she'd like to fly out for the show in three weeks. She cheerfully accepted, but we soon realized that we couldn't wait that long to see each other again, so we made plans for her to fly out for the next weekend as well. It was during that weekend that we determined that not only had we fallen in love but we'd have to find a way to close the 700 miles between us so that we could spend our lives together.

After I dropped Dawn off at the airport that Sunday night, I immediately started planning how I'd propose to her. I came to the conclusion that if I could pull it off the following weekend at The Dears show, that might be the perfect opportunity. That week, I contacted the band, bought a ring, called and convinced her shocked father to give his blessing, and then put together a group of about a dozen friends to accompany us to see the band.

Halfway through the show that night, the band turned on the house lights and asked whether there was a girl named Dawn in the audience because someone had a question for her. At that point, I got down on one knee and proposed. She said yes, we kissed, and the packed venue erupted. The following morning, we were surprised to read a review of not only the show but also of our engagement in The Washington Post. Next month, we will celebrate 10 happy years of marriage, but due to the frequent Army travel, only our third time together on the actual anniversary day. I could not have wished for a more loving and supportive wife, friend, and mother to our two beautiful daughters, and I thank my lucky stars that fate brought us together that night a decade ago.

FUNNIEST

Debbie and Joe Porter

Leading up to Valentine’s Day 2004, I was stepping on flyers and bumping into billboards advertising “Hearts Desire” Valentine’s Day Party and Fundraiser for AHA and young professionals in the city. Everywhere I looked and walked pointed me in the direction of attending that party, so I enlisted my roommate and we went.

She agreed on the basis of sipping apple martinis and venting about the love that had failed us. I was 23 years old and already a commitment-phobe. Think of Julia Roberts in “Runaway Bride.” At heart, I was that woman. Little did I know, love that very night would stare me in the face and ask for my number. Fortunately, God and providence wouldn’t leave me in my cynical, love-resistant condition.

He was 29 years old, a triathlete and drinking bourbon that night. Now that’s a respectable beverage! I am from Kentucky, where bourbon, horse racing and basketball are religious occupations. I was instantly smitten with his good looks, quiet disposition and sophisticated drinking tendencies. In Kentucky, we like our men like our horses: not buck wild.

Joe and I have been married more than a decade. We are now raising four beautiful children in Severna Park along the Magothy River. We don’t own horses yet and don’t drink nearly enough bourbon, but our love and life together are stronger than ever.

Like many other seasoned couples, we have spent many nights in the hospital together and weathered numerous life storms. Our marriage remains strong because we are anchored in a biblical verse that reminds us of the "Heart’s Desire" party where we met on Valentine’s Day many years ago: “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4).