and the rest is history

The other day I found an old photograph of me holding Merry Jennifer.  As I looked at the photograph a story came to mind. . . a story about my curly hair. 

It all began like this:

Truett and I were living in Savannah, Georgia.  At the time, my hair was long.  So long it came to the middle of my back.  It had been growing for years and years and years.

Well, we were walking in the Oglethorpe Mall one evening, listening to Bob Dylan over the mall intercom.  Then I saw a young woman pass me with short, curly hair.  Just like Bob Dylan's.

I told Truett, "That's how I want my hair.  I'm going to ask her where she got it cut."

"Fine," Truett answered.

So I sprinted to the girl, tapped her on the back and said, "May I ask you where you got your hair done?" 

The girl said, "I did it myself."

I told her I wanted my hair to look just like hers. . .and Bob Dylan's, and asked,  "Will you do mine like that?  I'll pay you."

"Sure," she answered; and with that I took her back to meet Truett and Merry Jennifer, our only child at the time.

Evidentally, the young woman needed money so she asked if I wanted my hair done now.

"YES!"  I exclaimed.

And the rest is history.  We hopped in our car and followed the woman to her apartment; and two hours later I had the perfect hair cut.

Boy, times have changed.  Not only with hair styles, but with trust in strangers.
 

Comments

[Heather Trice]

Times have definitely changed. Beautiful picture!

[Truett]

Yep, things have changed, you do not have the same hair style, Merry Jennifer has grown up but, you are as beautiful as ever. Happy Birthday----tomorrow which is about thirty six years from when this picture was taken.

[merry jennifer]

You're beautiful, Mom. Happy birthday! You'll always be 28 in my book...