I don’t know the exact date, but sometime in mid December 1994, while we were both in training at Sheppard Air Force Base, Texas, my husband Johnnie Slaughter proposed marriage. The moment didn’t feel special at the time: there was no ring, no romantic setting, no emotional declaration, no dropping to one knee. We were walking through an empty parking lot talking about the fact that he was soon to be stationed in Idaho while I was going to be sent for more training in Maryland at the start of the new year. I was sad about our impending separation, but I had no strong notions about the necessity of us maintaining some kind of relationship after we left Sheppard. I was twenty-one with a fledgling career and a thrilling sense of adventure. I cared for him and I was enjoying our time together, but he wasn’t even my boyfriend.
Imagine my surprise when he said, “We should get married.” I stopped in my tracks and turned to stare at him and the huge, smelly garbage dumpster behind him. In that moment, there were so many things I wanted to say to him, but I had no idea what to say first and I really didn’t want to have such an important discussion in a parking lot by a dumpster. I wordlessly turned away and continued walking. He remained where he was, but yelled after me, “Where are you going? Did you hear what I said? WE SHOULD GET MARRIED!”
Remembering this scene seventeen years later, I can see how funny it was, but at the moment, I was furious with John. I kept walking, increasing my speed, the better to put some distance between myself and that crazy man with his “trashy proposal”. At first I didn’t understand why his proposal was such a disappointment to me because the idea of marrying him had never before entered my mind. Yet, we shared a special connection and the moment he brought it up I realized that I actually could imagine happily sharing my life with him. The problem was, if I were to accept his proposal of marriage, then that crazy dumpster proposal would be one of those pivotal moments in my life story and in our shared history as a couple. This would be the story we’d someday tell our kids and grandkids.
Right then I realized that I had some old-fashioned expectations. Unfortunately, the proposal he’d just made fell short of what I thought to be acceptable. As we continued walking, I did my best to explain why I was upset and he heard me out, but remained focused on the big idea. He apologized for not giving me a “fairytale proposal” as I’d called it, but he said, “I really love you and I want you to be my wife and for us to be together.”
My mouth dropped open in surprise. I’d known this man for less than three months. We’d been fooling around for about half that time without bothering to define our relationship. Despite our having shared some emotional and physical intimacy, there had been absolutely NO verbal declarations of love up until that point. Yet, there he was, declaring his love for me and asking me to marry him as we stood, by then, on the sidewalk near the entrance to the base convenience store across from his dormitory.
My anger melted away and I began to feel like I was floating outside of my body. Looking into his eyes, I said, “I love you too, Slaughter.”
He took my hands in his own and replied, “Maybe you should start calling me John now ... So, are you going to marry me or what?” By his tone of voice and his facial expression, I’d say he was equal parts relieved, elated, and smart-assed.
I told him that we needed to back up and have several important discussions before he asked again. He did not need to buy me a ring, but he might want to make sure there were no dumpsters in the area on his next attempt. We did have many long, serious talks and over the next several days he probably asked me to marry him fifteen more times before I finally said yes. At no point did he drop to his knee, whip out some jewelry, or make any fancy speeches. There were no violins, no gourmet dinners, no stunts, no cameras, no billboards or huge screens. Just my beloved John Slaughter holding my hands and demonstrating how he would never let go.
