Bill Francis was my prom date in 1963. We had a great time at the dance despite his nervousness to not dare bring me home one minute past curfew. My Dad could sure put the fear in him.
Everyone seemed to expect us to end up together, but we became best friends more than anything else. Long after the zing of our first kiss had worn off, we continued to date. Mostly because there was no one else on the horizon for either of us. Regardless of how much I flirted with other cute boys no one else asked me out.
We found out at one of the early reunions that the other boys considered me "his" and wouldn't ask me out because of an unspoken code of loyalty. Just as the other girls considered him unavailable as well.
Strangely, on our last formal date to the prom, Bill ran into the back of a parked car while driving me home. He was looking at me instead of where he was going. He teasingly said it was my fault because I looked so cute! We stopped and left a note on the car he ran into that got a pretty good bashed-in bumper. He didn't dare take the time to go ring the doorbell and fess up because that would have made him late getting me home. He did not want to face my irate dad.
I was shocked to hear of Bill's passing from our mutual friend, Bill Davidson (who has now also passed away). It was quite the coincidence when I heard that the cause of death was Bill Francis' again running into the back of a parked car! That gave me chills along with the feeling of deep sadness. And regret for not continuing to keep in close touch.
The years passed so quickly and after attending different universities our paths never again crossed except for that one reunion when I learned he had married a bit late in life and was proud to have a young son.
I still remember Bill as the youthful track star of the '60s, watching his practice runs in those awful, shiny track shorts with his snow white 'bird legs'. And his faithfully 'surprising' me with double mums for the football games after many well-placed hints. And most of all his coming up my sidewalk all broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of having to face my dad.
Such wonderful memories of youth and a dearly-missed friend.
Janet Claffey (1963)
Bill Francis was my prom date in 1963. We had a great time at the dance despite his nervousness to not dare bring me home one minute past curfew. My Dad could sure put the fear in him.
Everyone seemed to expect us to end up together, but we became best friends more than anything else. Long after the zing of our first kiss had worn off, we continued to date. Mostly because there was no one else on the horizon for either of us. Regardless of how much I flirted with other cute boys no one else asked me out.
We found out at one of the early reunions that the other boys considered me "his" and wouldn't ask me out because of an unspoken code of loyalty. Just as the other girls considered him unavailable as well.
Strangely, on our last formal date to the prom, Bill ran into the back of a parked car while driving me home. He was looking at me instead of where he was going. He teasingly said it was my fault because I looked so cute! We stopped and left a note on the car he ran into that got a pretty good bashed-in bumper. He didn't dare take the time to go ring the doorbell and fess up because that would have made him late getting me home. He did not want to face my irate dad.
I was shocked to hear of Bill's passing from our mutual friend, Bill Davidson (who has now also passed away). It was quite the coincidence when I heard that the cause of death was Bill Francis' again running into the back of a parked car! That gave me chills along with the feeling of deep sadness. And regret for not continuing to keep in close touch.
The years passed so quickly and after attending different universities our paths never again crossed except for that one reunion when I learned he had married a bit late in life and was proud to have a young son.
I still remember Bill as the youthful track star of the '60s, watching his practice runs in those awful, shiny track shorts with his snow white 'bird legs'. And his faithfully 'surprising' me with double mums for the football games after many well-placed hints. And most of all his coming up my sidewalk all broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of having to face my dad.
Such wonderful memories of youth and a dearly-missed friend.
Janet Claffey (Class of 1963)