On a clear, crisp October evening some fraternity brothers and I decided to visit the place where the sorority to which Gwen belonged was building their homecoming float. Ostensibly we there to offer some technical support and help out a little, but everyone knew we were there to "check out the girls." Part of the construction of the float involved stuffing paper napkins through chicken wire, and I remember seeing Gwen there as part of the work crew. She looked familiar; the year before I had served as president of the campus Newman Club, and I had seen her sitting in the front row at a meeting I conducted; looking all cute, petite and full of life and energy. But, I had never been formally introduced to her.
When work on the float was competed for the night, some of the girls, Gwen included, asked for a ride back to their dormitory. My friend, Smitty, in whose car I had ridden over, offered to transport some of them. I got into the back seat of the car, and, as the saying goes, the rest is history:
Now the heart she mended