Michael Warren (1963)

The Jimas family and friends suffered a devastating loss in July, 2019.  Mary's family (three children/14 grandchildren) lost their mother/grandmother (Mary) and father/grandfather (Jim) in July, 2019.  Jim died July 9th; Mary died three weeks and one day later--July 31.  Jim and Mary would have celebrated their 50th wedding anniverary on August 23rd.  Knowing that life was slipping away, I do hope that they, and their family and friends celebrated the anniversary early.

By all accounts Jim was a great BYU athlete, and a wonderful high school coach, teacher, husband, father, and member of the LDS Church.  You can read his obituary here:  http://www.memorialutah.com/obituary/mountain-view/james-jimas/. 

Mary's obituary speaks for itself--she was a wonderful person.

Bad things do seem to happen to obviously good and wonderful people.  But, life is neither good nor bad; it is neither fair nor unfair; it just happens.  We shouldn't measure life by the timeliness or the outcome of particular events.  Likewise, the meaning of life is not some ideology, philosophy, or religion that we choose to believe.  The journey is the meaning.  By all accounts, Mary and Jim had a wonderful journey.

I shared Mary's journey and she shared mine during the 1962-1963 school year at Zama.  It is a year of my life that I cherish to this day; I will write about it in a forthcoming comment. 

But, for now:  Rest in Peace sweet Angel, rest in Peace!

Mike Warren (1963)

Shelley Halker (Gummerson) (1965)

I am so sorry to hear of Mary’s passing. Mary and Martha were a big part of my life at Zama. I have tried to find them over the years. When we left Zama we ended up at ft Monroe together. We lost contact after that. I send love and hugs to the family and friends. Sounds like she had a great life and loved by all. 

Michael Warren (1963)

Loving Mary David

If you were to read the caption under my Senior picture in the 1963 Zenith, it would read in part, "... can be seen wandering the halls in search of a pretty girl ..."  That pretty girl was Mary Ann David.  Mary and I shared our journey thru life during the 1962-1963 school year, and we burned bright, so very bright.

Once upon a time in Zama, Japan there was Mike and Mary.  This is a true story about first love, pure love, forever love.  The characters are Army brats who were thrown together by the  Army and ripped apart by the Army.  It is a story that has been repeated on numerous Army posts and camps.  It is a sad story; it is a beautiful story.

I remember clearly the first time that I saw Mary David.  I was a Senior; it was a beautiful, early September day; I was sitting in Loraine Ford's Advanced Math class next to Bob Smyers in the back of the classroom.  From our seats, we could see the front entrance to Zama High.  We watched two very cute girls entering Zama High with their mother.  I believe Bob's exact words were "Wow, I would like to get some of that."  Actually, I think the intent of Bob's words was more about dating and less about lust.  In any case, I shared his enthusiasm. 

I wasn't dating anyone, and at that point, no girl in the Senior, Junior, or Sophomore classes had caught my eye.  There were no girls signaling their interest; I had no prospects.  Why not pursue one of the new, very cute twins?

It quickly became apparent that the David twins were fraternal, not identical.  They were both very cute, but I was immediately attracted to Mary; she just looked a bit sweeter than Martha. 

I started making eye contact with Mary as we passed in the hall between classes. Mary reciprocated, my heart leapt.  Glances became gazes, and gazes became smiles.  It is amazing how thrilling it is when the right girl returns your gaze and smiles at you.

It was time to meet Mary.

Mary lived in the Sagamihara housing area, as did I.  So, I stopped riding my Honda to school, and I started riding the school bus, so that I could sit next to Mary.  On one of those school bus rides, I was standing (I did not see any vacant seats), when I heard this sweet, Southern voice say, "There is a seat here, Mike." It was a seat next to Mary.  We were co-conspirators in our goal to sit together.  Mary and I talked, and it was evident that we liked each other.  In truth, it was much more for me; I was smitten.  From that moment on, Mary and I were inseparable.

We rode the school bus together; we ate lunch together; we met between classes to touch and steal a kiss. We were together every Friday and Saturday night, and we usually spent Sunday afternoons together.  Mary and I attended all the school and teen club dances together.  We ate dinner at each other's house.  I took Mary to my Senior Prom, and I missed my Senior Trip to be with Mary.

I loved everything about Mary David. 

Mary was sweet, kind, and compassionate. In the year that I loved Mary, she never once spoke unkindly of another person. 

Mary had big, beautiful, expressive brown eyes; you quite literally "could get lost in those eyes."  Her 1965 Zenith Senior picture included the following caption:  "She says a lot with her eyes." 

Mary had a syrupy, Southern accent.  I loved the way she turned "Mike" into a two syllable word. 

To borrow from Shakespeare, Mary had "lips like wine."  Kissing Mary was intoxicating; she was an active kisser; she didn't passively open her mouth; she kissed back.

Mary was cute, pretty, and gracious.  There was a light shinning out of those big, brown eyes.  Mary was Most Attractive in the 1965 Zenith Senior Superlatives.

By Christmas of 1962, Mary and I were in love.  She was wearing my Letterman's Sweater, and we were in a constant search for places we could be alone without the observant eyes of adults or parents.  It is amazing how many hours you can spend kissing and touching when you are a teenager in love.  It was a rush of adrenaline,  dopamine, and oxytocin; it was our introduction to sex, and it was wonderful.

I found out that Mary was Mormon on our first date.  We were in the Sagamihara Snack Bar after seeing a movie.  I offered to buy her a Coke, but she said that she didn't drink caffeinated beverages because she was a Mormon.  It was the first of many things that I would learn about Mormons and their religion.  Years later, when I would hear people make derogatory comments about Mormons, I would counter with, "No, my high school sweet heart was a Mormon; they are wonderful people."

On one of our early dates, after a kiss, Mary looked up at me and said, "You wouldn't do me wrong, would you Mike?"  I said, "No!"  Mary's question was prophetic; it foreshadowed things to come.

I spent a lot of time at Mary's house.  Mary's family was so different from mine.  I was the only child of a loving, but demanding, autocratic Army officer.  Mary's family was warm, friendly, loving, and large.  Mary had a twin sister, Martha, an older Sister, Joy, and a younger brother, Bobby.  Love in the David family was not contingent on academic or athletic achievement, it was unconditional. 

Many evenings at Mary's house, we would go to the kitchen to embrace and kiss. Col. David would call from the living room, "I want to hear some talking in the kitchen."  Many years later, when I had a teenage daughter, I understood his perspective.

Mary's parents had a rule, that boys could not be in the house unless a parent was present.  Martha was dating Greg Bradley, and there were times when we broke that rule. On one such evening, Mary's brother saw his parents parking their car--the street was about 50 yds from the David's quarters.  Greg and I were out the back door at a full run before Bobby completed his warning.  I hit the clothes line and went down like I had been hit by a linebacker, but I was up and running again in a split second.  When I look back at that incident, I have to smile, but at the time, Greg and I were more than a little scared of facing Col. David's wrath.

About two thirds of the way thru basketball season, I had to stop playing to go in the hospital to investigate high blood pressure that was discovered when I took the Air Force Academy application physical.  It was an anxious time; I didn't know what the doctors might find.  Mary visited me every day after school.  When she visited in the evening, we would find a dark alcove or waiting room with a sofa and make out.  Mary's visits made my hospital stay almost pleasant.  The doctors didn't  find anything, and I was back playing basketball in two weeks.

The end of the regular basketball season meant March Madness at Camp Zama--The Far East Basketball Championships.  In 1963, it was a double elimination tournament, and we beat Misawa in the final game to win it all.  It was the culmination of three years of basketball for many of us, and it was pure Joy.  It was special to share that moment with Mary; I can still remember hugging and kissing her at center court.

After basketball season, our relationship became more intense, and with each passing week we became more intimate, but always short of carnal knowledge.  I quit going to Track practice and started missing Track Meets, so that I could be with Mary.  We were desperate to be with each other as much as possible, because we both knew that separation was looming.  My dad was rotating back to the States for a new assignment, and I was leaving Japan to attend Ga Tech.  Mary would be staying in Japan for two more years.

We clung to each other, we talked about how wonderful it had been to be together; we vowed to reunite.  We were in complete denial of what was coming; we never discussed the implications of being apart for two years. 

Mary and I said goodbye at Yokohama.  Right before she went ashore, we embraced and kissed, and with tears streaming down my face,  I said, "Mary, no matter what happens in the future, know that I loved you." 

I couldn't stop the tears that day.  I think Mary was a little embarrassed for me, she asked, "Mike, can't you stop crying?" She had fallen in love with this tall, self-confident guy, and he was literally dissolving in front of her.  That day, I sensed that I was losing Mary forever.

So, you probably know how this story ends.  If you were an Army or Navy brat attending Zama, you may have lived a similar, all to familiar story of two broken hearts.

Mary and I exchanged love letters all through the Summer of 1963.  On the way to Ft. Stewart, GA, we stopped to see my Father's sister in McAllen, TX.  Mary had spoken to my parents about where she could send letters, and there was a batch of letters waiting for me when we arrived.  It was a wonderful, loving surprise.

I started Ga Tech Fall of 1963, and we kept exchanging letters.  One evening during my first quarter, I attended a fraternity rush party, and to my surprise, one of the Rush Girls was Val Partridge.  Val's dad was with the Red Cross; they relocated from Zama to Atlanta at the end of her Junior year.  Val was a pretty girl.  We started dating.  I didn't tell Mary; I wanted to keep Mary, but I wanted to date Val.  Val wrote to someone in Japan that we were dating; word got to Mary, and she confronted me in a letter.  I felt guilty, and I was angry with myself for being so stupid. So, I displaced the guilt in an angry, hurtful letter to Mary.  I wrote an apology, but the damage was done, and we stopped exchanging letters.

So, I lost Mary because of immature, self-centered, selfish behavior.  I broke the heart of the girl that I loved and loved me.  In her last letter to me, Mary wrote, "You will be sorry Mike Warren." She was correct.  It took me quite a while to forgive myself for violating Mary's trust.

A number of years ago, I found Mary on Facebook. We exchanged some notes regarding life events: jobs, children, grand children, etc.  In my final note to Mary, I expressed my regrets for breaking her heart in 1963.  I told her that I had never stopped loving her, and that I would love her forever.  Mary may not have appreciated getting my final note; she may have chosen not to believe that note; but, I am so very, very glad that I sent it.

Sharing my Senior year with Mary David was one of the great joys of my life.  Mary touched my soul, and altered me forever.  Losing Mary broke my heart, but that pain was well worth the joy of knowing her.  I was blessed to know Mary, however brief the time.

I will always love you Mary,

Mike

Shelley Halker (Gummerson) (1965)

Thanks for sharing that. It’s so nice to hear that guys go through the same things girls do. Very interesting.