A Love Story

Sixty years ago—August 20, 1963—there culminated a dramatic transformation in my life. Five years of convoluted coincidences—I call them “God Moments”—happened. You cannot make up this stuff. Flashback; college was my next step in preparation for entering seminary. Planning to go back to college for my junior year, I needed a summer job. I packed up, heading to North Georgia to take a job busing tables and washing dishes in my uncle’s restaurant, I would live with his family at no charge.

As I was heading out the door to leave, I got a phone call; it was another uncle, a minister. He wanted me to come to South Georgia and help him. He would be away for the summer taking classes. I would live with his family, and help in his church. I would make hospital visits, lead mid-week services, while saving money for college. He secured a job for me—Little  Ocmulgee State Park— hauling garbage, cutting bushes, weeds, and raking pine straw. I leaped at the chance; it was a job after all! Helping in his church was an apprenticeship of sorts—a bonus for me as I looked toward studies at Candler School of Theology.

That summer I met some local girls who planned to enter college in the fall. Once on campus, we all spent time together at meals and campus activities—being an upper classman, I relished the opportunity to give them in-person orientation. They were Baptists but we attended daily interfaith vespers on campus together. They introduced me to their roommates, one of whom was Paige Dampier.

I also had a campus job. Being a speech minor, I worked in the Speech Department and conducted Speech Lab. One day my professor sent a student to lab for some help on an upcoming speech. Paige Dampier showed up. We had a productive session. As she was leaving I said, “You’ve got this. Put the speech away. Go back to the dorm. You and friends go out for coffee and free your mind. You will do great tomorrow.” The next morning, I visited her class to check on her speech . She never missed a beat; got an “A.” One other connection: Paige and I were in the college band and our paths crossed a number of times.

I graduated and went to Emory University. Two years later, while registering for classes, I spied Paige. I walked over and spoke to her. My “pick-up line”? I blurted out, “What are you doing here?” She said, “I registered at Theology School.” Putting my foot further in my mouth, I said, “I didn’t know you were interested in religion! I didn’t even know you are Methodist!” She politely let my faux pas slide without comment, and we had a pleasant visit .For the rest of that school year, our paths crossed often.

Before next fall classes started at Emory, each of us was conducting a Youth Week—on opposite sides of Macon, GA. At the close of the first night, my Leadership team cohort and I decided to visit our friends on the Leadership team at Paige’s church; we all went out to Shoney’s. As it turned out, tables at did not accommodate all of us together. Paige and I took a table nearby and afterwards, took her to her car at the church parking lot. I took Paige out for coffee and strawberry pie every night that week. Turns out, Paige and her boyfriend had broken up and—conveniently, my girlfriend had returned to Kentucky.

On August 20, 1963—one year to the day of that date—we were married, merging our five year friendship. This next Sunday, August 20, 2023 Paige and I would have been married for sixty sublime years. We often told each other, “One lifetime will not be enough.” It was not. (By the way, she often enjoyed reminding me me that I missed a great opportunity; to take her out, back in the Speech Lab those years ago.—- “You could have said, ‘Let’s go out for coffee now that we’ve finished on your speech!'”

Somehow, we never chose a song to be, “Our song;” however, in her last year we adopted one that captures the sense of our love story; Anne Murray’s— “Could I Have This Dance for the Rest of My Life?” Paige made a better person of me. She gave far more than I, to our relationship. I did not deserve Paige.

Our two daughters continue Paige’s legacy of love, self-less giving, humor, and joy. When Paige’s Neurologist gave her diagnosis, he said, “There is no cure for this. It will degenerate your body. What do you feel about that?” Without skipping a beat Paige said, “I know Whose I am. I know where I’m going. I am not afraid.” Rev Lee Fullerton said it well in her eulogy; “… it takes a special kind of person to commit to anyone or anything to that extent. It takes a person of faith and Paige was that to her core. ”

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2023