It's kind of silly now, nothing more than a fond memory that has been replaced by the deep love I have for my wife, Mary. But as a boy in the third and fourth grade it was major. It was no simple school boy crush. I was completely, madly, irrevocably head over heels in love with a girl by the name of Barbara Wissman. I remember one of our teachers reading Tom Sawyer to us. In my mind, I was her Tom Sawyer and she was my Becky Thatcher.

When she walked into the room my heart would skip a beat. For a long time, I wasn't even sure she knew my name. I sat in the back, about three or four seats behind and two rows over from Barbara. I could watch her and day dream about holding her hand. Or, be still my pounding heart, getting a kiss.

I did everything possible to line up next to her or behind…