Psychologists tell us that memory can be triggered by sensory input. I like many, accepted that fact without much thought. We can all recall times when some sight, sound, smell or taste would remind us of something from our past. Over a month ago it happened to me but unlike previous occurrences, a whole series of memories were triggered leaving me stunned, shaking, aching in my heart for what had once been but would never be again.
It was late, about 1:30 AM; I was at work at my desk when an employee of the company where I was assigned as security officer walked by. I barely noticed her passing until after she was out the door and into the offices beyond. Then it hit me. My head jerked up, my eyes scanned the area. A sweet, buttery aroma floated through the air. What was that smell? I “knew” what it was but was unable at the moment to name it. My mind flashed back over the years, twenty, thirty forty years and more, back to a time of innocence when Kennedy was President, gas was cheap, and I was 10 years old.
I shrugged to bring my mind back to the present. That wonderful aroma was still faintly wafting through the air but fading fast. I rose from my desk and followed my nose. I knew that what ever it was, its source had to be with the woman who’d walked by my desk. I passed through the door to the next office following the scent. A labyrinth of cubicles was before me. I put my faith in my nose and started into the maze. After several minutes and more than a couple of wrong turns that had forced me to back up and retrace my route, I found myself looking at the back of a woman of middle age. Graying hair cut in a pageboy style, a sweater around her shoulders and there on her desk the source of the aroma. It was a bag of microwave Carmel corn. I hadn’t known that any company was making it and its’ intense smell retriggered a flood of memories zeroing in on the ones associated with Carmel corn. I must have really spaced out and I think my eyes may have gotten glassy as my mind roamed the past when I was suddenly jerked back to the present by the woman’s voice.
“Officer, are you okay? Is there something I can do for you?”
I apologized profusely to her for intruding, explaining that the smell of her snack had triggered some intensely powerful memories that frankly were making it difficult to keep my mind on the present. I took a moment to look at her as I explained. Deep cobalt blue eyes in a gently aged face that was still attractive, a dimple in her chin and a warm smile gave me the impression of gentle grace and a life filled with happiness.
“Funny you should say that Officer…”
“Burney” I said to fill the obvious opening.
“Burney. I had the same thing happen to me when a friend made a bag last week. I’ll always associated the smell of caramel corn with my first date.”
I glanced at her nameplate on the wall of her cubicle as I told her that by strange coincidence it evoked the same memory for me. K. Bethany Andrews; it didn’t ring any bells for me.
“That is a strange coincidence. What memories does it bring back?”
I smiled and said, “Nickel candy bars.”
“Dime cokes” she replied smiling back at me.
We began to go back and forth naming things we remembered from those long lost days.
“Dial Phones.”
“Black and white TV.”
“Balconies in theaters.”
“Saturday matinees for forty cents.”
“Popcorn was a dime.”
“Fifteen cents with real butter.”
“Double features with cartoons between them.”
“Bozo’s Circus.”
“Father Knows Best.”
“Make Room For Daddy.”
“Wagon Train.”
“Ozzie and Harriet.”
“KarmelKorn Shops.”
“Men with big wooden paddles folding fresh popped popcorn into the hot caramel.”
We both suddenly stopped and looked at each other. There was a sudden tension in the air.
Almost whispering she said, “Chicago Heights?”
My eyes felt like they would pop from my skull as I whispered back, “Lincoln Theater?”
“I held a boy’s hand for the first time as he bought us a box of Karmelcorn to take into the movie.”
“Hand in hand I took a girl to the balcony to watch the double feature.”
“He put his arm around me during the cartoons between the movies.”
My heart was pounding in my chest. I just couldn’t believe what was happening.
“I kissed a girl for the first time in that balcony.”
“She gasped, “Our glasses got in the way.”
“Kate?” She slowly nodded.
“Bryce?” I nodded back.
“I kissed you again when we had walked back to your house after the movie.”
“My mother saw us and threw a fit, dragging me inside yelling I was only 8, way to young to be kissing a boy.”
I reached out to her and took her hands in mine saying, “You’re not to young now.” And I gently pulled her to her feet.
We both had tears in our eyes as our lips brushed softly against each other’s for the first time in 44 years. I released her hands and folded her into my embrace. Her arms went around me her hands locking together at the small of my back. Forty-four years and 500 miles distance melted away as we kissed again. I felt the same thrill at kissing her now as I did so long ago and far away.
CONCLUSION:
Over the next month or so Kate and I have renewed our friendship and it has grown and deepened as we have found much common ground between us. We haven’t made love yet but we both know it’s coming, and soon.