Our Love Affair………………………………………………………………..6/18/16

    

   Sixty-three and ½ years were not enough; he turned away, unwilling to say goodbye.  I stood by his bed, tearfully reluctant.  We had started our journey so many years ago.  Together we had crawled under each other’s skin.  We were in love, we were in step; we understood each other perfectly.

     I met Erv Herman when I went to Ohio for a position with Family Service of Cincinnati.  I had two phone numbers in my pocket “in case you become lonely”.  A friend of a friend knew a boy at the Hebrew Union College, training ground for want-to-be Reform (Progressive) Rabbis.  In addition, I had the number of a young minister; a friend in school had a friend in Cincinnati who was an Episcopal pastor.   From my Mother I also had serious, explicit instructions: “do not bring home a clergyman”!  I never asked why.  I was busy thinking about my new job, new city and hopefully, new friends.

     Soon I was lonely: the middle-aged colleagues at Family Service went to lectures and meetings during their time off, I was looking for fun at the 22 year old level.  So I called the Hebrew Union College and brought greetings from my friend in New York.  It worked like a charm.  I had visitors the next Saturday afternoon.  One New York student and one from Baltimore, they also had a younger boy in tow: he was their driver.  I never did find out if they paid him for the 12-mile ride or whether he just liked to be part of what the big boys were doing.

     The afternoon was fun.  It was during our Jewish holiday of Passover that they visited. I apologized to the would be rabbis that I had nothing to serve them except Pepsi-Cola which was stamped “kosher for Passover”.  “You are Jewish?”  They asked in surprise!  “Agnes Gilbert” was a name without a specific derivation or definition, very hard to identify.  I pretended I was offended so they accepted a Pepsi and decided to play another game with me.

     I was ready for them: “Can you tell who is Murray, who is Erv and who is Donny?”  They were astonished that I picked each one correctly.  They were so sure-footed that they did not know they had called each other by name in whispers: sharp ears and a quick understanding always stood me in good stead.  When they left, promising to call, I later heard that Murray and Erv had a lengthy discussion, on the other side of my front door, about who would ask me out. Apparently at the Hebrew Union College there was a code of honor:  no two men dated the same girl at the same time.   Murray was elected!   I never found out if they tossed a coin or settled in some other way.  Yes Murray and I dated awhile, then as happens when two people are really not matched, we broke up.  Then the real fun began.

     The wife of another student invited me to play bridge on a quiet Sunday evening.  I asked who the fourth player was, she replied “Erv Herman”.  In the intervening time, I had heard a lot about this would-be rabbi.  He was irrepressible and constantly walking the fine line on the edge of danger. So, I answered my friend that I did not think he and I were in the same league; unbelievably he gave her the same answer when she asked him to join us.  In as much as our friend complained that she was only asking us to play bridge, not marry!  We both relented and so began the saga of Erv and Ag Herman.

     From that day until I had to return to New York to grad school, we saw each other every day. And when he visited me in New York in June, he jumped off the train and said for the world to hear, “as of this moment we are engaged”!   We were married in October; more than 63 years later, cancer took my love…he always said, “I want to go first so that you can have a couple of years of freedom”.  Silly man, did he not understand that I always preferred to go along!!!

                                                                                        Agnes G. Herman