After Dad’s death at Christmas, Mom and I had the unpleasant task of returning the gifts we had purchased for him. As mentioned in a previous post, he loved playing horseshoes with his friends. At a local hardware store, I had found a pair of horseshoes painted “Petty Blue”, the color of Richard Petty’s race car. I felt like it would be the perfect gift and was so excited about giving it to him.

Mom drove me to the hardware store where the horseshoes had been purchased and waited in the car while I carried them back inside for a return. The man behind the counter asked me why I was returning them, I had been so excited about the purchase. I didn’t know how to say it any other way at 12 years old, “my Dad died before I could give them to him”. Needless to say, the man looked shocked. I don’t remember anything else being said. I just looked down and walked out the store.

I don’t know if it was a common thing back in 1971, but the cemetery seemed to be the place to hangout, especially after Dad died. Seemed like Mom and I were there constantly. Me, posing for pictures within all the flowers that surrounded his grave. Sitting looking down at his grave with a wreath laying across my legs. When I think back on it now it seems almost eerie. But I guess a lot of people hang out at their loved ones grave for awhile afterwards especially when the death is unexpected.

Mom tried to get me involved in things. Piano lessons were out. I couldn’t sit still long enough to practice playing, wasn’t interested in it the slightest. Next came baton lessons which was a lot better. I stuck with that a few years, it was more physical so I enjoyed it more. I marched in parades with the baton corps, twirled fire and machetes, and eventually was chosen for the majorette squad once I made it to high school performing in half time shows for the football team.

All that changed, when a brand new big, beautiful roller skating rink was built across town. All it took was one visit to the skating rink and I was hooked. The people who managed the rink were artistic skating professionals and would casually mix with the crowd demonstrating their artistic skills in spinning and jumping. I was mesmerized. I had to learn how to do those tricks. Mom agreed to pay for skating lessons and my journey began.

I went from beginner classes, to one-on-one with the female instructor. She worked with me to learn women’s freestyle and developed a routine to use in competition. I performed my first solo to the music “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” wearing a chiffon yellow skating outfit with rhinestones. At the competition, I remember seeing my Mom standing at the rink wall crying while I was performing. I thought, “oh no, I must really look bad”. Later, she told me I looked graceful and beautiful on the floor.

After placing in the top 3 in a few different competitions, the instructors felt I would make a good pairs partner for a guy they k new back in their home state. Before long I was taking pairs lessons and learning about lifts and combination spins. We placed 2nd in the Southeastern Regional Competition in 1975 which qualified us to participate in National Competition in Lincoln, Nebraska.

The Nationals were an experience I will never forget. Competing in an actual coliseum surrounded by people. My pairs partner was muscular and a very good skater, but he had one addiction and that was he smoked cigarettes. He was so nervous before our time to perform, he had 3 cigarettes lit at one time and the look of pure fright in his eyes. We did fair. I fell on the double-axle jump and his nervousness put us in 10th place in the overall competition. I still have fond memories of that time and a silver medal from our regional placement.

My pairs partner decided he wanted to return to his home state after Nationals. It broke my heart. I watched him board the plane and never saw him again. Skating had taken it’s toll on my majorette activities in school. Because of the practice requirements needed for skating, I had to withdraw from the majorette squad. It seemed everyone at school had turned their back on me because of it. I would go all day and no one would talk to me. The prom was coming up and I had not received any invitations. Classmates were going shopping, picking out dresses, but I just assumed it would be something I would miss.

I was still taking instruction from my skating pro in freestyle solo ladies competition, while working part-time in the snack bar to help out. My teacher stopped me as I was coming in the rink one day and asked when my prom was and if I was going. I told her no, I had not been asked so I wasn’t planning to go. She was very adamant about not missing my prom. The hockey team was practicing on the rink floor, and I’ll never forget, she called a guy off the floor over to where we were standing. I’ll call him Jesse, which is not his real name. She asked Jesse, would you take Shari to the prom? “Yeah, I’ll take her”. That’s when the trouble began.