It started at The Hot Club …
There was one guy at the bar. He was tall with dirty blonde longish hair complete with a full beard and mustache. He was dressed in tweed sport jacket and khaki trousers. He said, “Hi John.” He looked at me and said, “So you must be the roommate I’ve heard so much about.” I smiled and said, “Guilty.” His name was Chip.
We started with local small talk and a beer Somehow, without me noticing, Chip told John to make himself scarce. John announced that he was going to the Wine Bar cross the street to check it out. Chip offered to drive me home. We continued our chit chat. I asked him what he did for a living. Chip described his job as running the heart/lung machine during open heart surgery. As a court reporter, I had worked on a case involving open heart surgery. I looked at him and said, “So you’re a perfusionist?” He almost fell off the bar stool. He was very impressed.
On the way home, we stopped at Elizabeth’s on South Main Street. We ordered special coffee drinks and kept the conversation going. The ironic thing about meeting like this is Chip had been at a wake earlier in the evening and that’s why he was in a sport jacket. Otherwise, he wore jeans, cowboy boots and a leather jacket.
I was usually in a business suit, heels and jewelry. He was both dressed completely opposite of our normal attire.
Our first date the following week was to a Moody Blues concert in Worcester. Second row seats. Now, I was the one that was impressed. We bought Moody Blues T shirts.
Long story short … we fell madly in love and married in 1991. We had sixteen wonderful years when he died in his sleep from a heart attack at the ripe old age of 60.
He spent 34 years saving lives and couldn’t save his own. I miss him every day.
Like the lyrics from the Moody Blues, Chip was telling me, “GO NOW. I.GOT TO.GO.NOW.”