Readers share snapshots of young love for Valentine's Day

Editor's note: For Valentine's Day, we asked Tribune readers to send in their stories of young love. Here are their responses, from stories of love at first sight to childhood love that waited half a century to blossom.

We hope you enjoy these stories, and we encourage you to share your own tales of love, good or bad, young or old. Please feel free to add your memories in the comments section at the bottom of this page.

Chance encounter leads to FBI romance

From Jeannette Hart McCloskey

In 1941, a young man walked into the office where I was working. He presented credentials identifying him as a special agent in the Sacramento, Calif., office of the FBI.

He requested an interview with my employer, Dr. Frank MacDonald. Because office hours hadn't begun and there were no patients waiting, I informed him that the doctor could see him at once. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. What a nice young man. I was impressed; as his title denoted, he seemed special.

His conversation with the doctor was brief, and as he was leaving the office I commented that he should go home and take care of his cold. Again, he gave me a special smile, and he thanked me for my advice and assured me that was exactly what he was going to do.

A week later, on the way back to the office after my lunch break, I saw the special agent across the street. When he saw me and smiled, once again I smiled back.

Back in the office, I began preparations for our afternoon patients when the phone rang. I answered, and the male voice said I wouldn't remember him, but before he could continue I identified him as the FBI agent. He seemed surprised that I recognized his voice, and it encouraged him to ask me for a date. That put me in a quandary because of my strict upbringing, which I was sure didn't include a date with a stranger.

Since I really wanted to get to know him better, my compromise was suggesting lunch at the restaurant in the medical building where I worked. We agreed to meet, and the lunch hour was too short for all the things we wanted to talk about.

Ironically, he told me later that the Dr. MacDonald I worked for had no connection with the case he was investigating.

It was meant to be because before the year was out we were married, a wonderful ending to a chance meeting. I have never forgotten that very important first date!

Jeannette Hart McCloskey lives in Sun City Center.

The love of his life was the girl next door

From Laurence Veras

In May 1944, I attended a birthday party for my future wife, Alicia, who was turning 4. Although we weren't really an item at the time, she surely was one of the cutest little girls in the neighborhood. That was back in the Bronx, New York. All of the children at the party lived in tall apartment buildings in a project built by MetLife.

Alicia and I played in the "little-oval" playground. Sometimes, I would reluctantly agree to be the daddy if we played house. More often than not, Alicia, a good sport if ever there was one, would play "punch-ball" with some of the boys and a few other "good-sport girls."

During our grade-school years, Alicia and I would come across each other (our apartment windows faced each other) on occasion. But we didn't "hang out" together. Then, when she was 16 and I was 18, I asked her to dance at the local church social. Recalling how cute I always thought she was - and still is - I danced with her several more times.

Afterwards, I sat with my buddy Hugh at the counter of our popular candy kitchen/luncheonette. Alicia was sitting in a nearby booth with her girlfriends. I told Hugh, "I'd love to ask her out." I needed courage. He said, "If you don't ask her, there are about five other guys who might." I did, and we dated for just over four years.

We wed on Nov. 26, 1960. To borrow from "A Christmas Carol," "if the fates allow" it will be 50 years this November. To say it's been a great run would be an understatement. Alicia is now, more than ever, my very special Valentine.

Laurence Veras and his wife, Alicia, live in Clearwater.

He knew right away that she was the one

From Richard Cowper

In 1942, I was 18 years old, working two jobs, and I didn't have time to notice girls.

My sister, who was in high school, had a girlfriend who was working in a ladies' shop in town. One day, when she stopped to visit her girlfriend, she noticed an attractive new employee working there. When my sister saw me, she told me about the new girl. I asked her to ask the young lady to come over to our house on Saturday night so I could meet her.

I usually got home around 11:30 at night, and my sister made the arrangements for the girl to come over. So when I walked in the door, this attractive young lady was sitting on the couch waiting for me. We were introduced, sat around for about an hour and a half, and I asked to take her home.

That was two weeks before Christmas. The week after Christmas, I asked her to marry me. Last month, we celebrated our 67th anniversary.

We had known each other for seven weeks when we were married on Jan. 30, 1943.

Richard Cowper and his wife, Ravella, live in Riverview.

True love waited, for 52 years

From Jim and Pat Shepard

Jim's story: In the late fall of 1949, I heard about a dance being held every Friday night, and since I had nothing to do I decided to go.

I could not dance very well, so I kept to the side watching. After a while, I noticed this brunette who was a real knockout. She seemed to be with some girls and no boys. I spent that first night watching her.

It took me about a week to put together a plan. I had a good voice and sang in the choir at school, so I asked the band leader if I could sing "White Christmas." I thought that would get her attention.

I still did not have the nerve to ask her to dance, but the next week there I was again. I saw the town mayor, so I asked him who she was. He offered to introduce us, so we finally got together to dance. Her parents asked the mayor about me, and he gave them a glowing report on me. They would not let me take her home, though, for quite a while. I thought they were overprotective of her.

About a month later, she gave me a piece of cake from her birthday cake. When I unwrapped it, I saw the number 14 on it. No wonder she could not go with me! She looked much older. I was 18, and I was smitten - and I still am.

Pat's memories: Looking back now, it seems Jim remembers more than I do. But I do remember the times coming home from the dance when we would listen to "Moon River" on the radio. Jim always sang to me. I remember our first kiss, when he held me tight and told me he was nuts about me. He had an old Model A Ford that I could hear coming for blocks, and I would get so excited.

We went together about a year, and then he joined the Navy and we started our long-distance romance. His parents and I went up to the Great Lakes Naval Station for his graduation. It is still one of our best memories.

About this time, my family moved to another school district. My aunt knew a boy from her church that went to my new school, and she really wanted us to be together. So we met, and I went to church with him. I discovered a spiritual side of life that really became very important to me, and it still is.

This time became very stressful for me. When Jim came home one time, I was working as a waitress, and I looked up and there he was in his uniform. I was so shocked and surprised. When I was 16, Jim got me an engagement ring, but I was too young to wear it so I just kept it for later. It was very difficult to break it off with him. My parents really liked him, too. But eventually we parted and never saw each other again. I thought of him often, though.

We both married and had families. Then, in 2003, I was watching TV and saw the story of Carol Channing getting back together with her first love. I started thinking of Jim and decided to call his brother, Bill. He told me that Jim was OK but his wife had died two years earlier. So I asked Bill for Jim's phone number. When I called him, I said, "This is a voice from your past." He could not think of who it might be, so I asked him if he remembered a girl named Pat. He kept saying, "Oh, my goodness!"

We had a lot of fun catching up with a lot of romantic e-mails and phone calls. I think on my second call I asked him what he did with my rings. When he said he still had them, I about fainted.

It wasn't long until we planned on him coming up to Ohio to visit me. We were both so excited and nervous. I asked a bystander to take a picture of us. When I saw him coming down the concourse, I could not wait; I ran to him. Just like old times. I cry now thinking about it. I bought a Perry Como record to play in my car on the way home: "I love you like I loved you when you were sweet 16." It just said it all.

We spent a week together, and when we went to the airport he told me that this time was forever, and I replied, "I know, darling." In December, he returned to go to my grandson's wedding with me. It was an awesome time. They had all of our favorite songs, and we danced. Then he turned to me and said, "I don't have a ring, but will you marry me?" And I said "YES, YES, YES."

After the wedding, we planned on me returning to Florida with him to meet his family and to be together for Christmas. I had told him I did not want him to get me another ring. I wanted my first ones. So on Monday, Dec. 22, 2004, I got my rings back. It had been 52 years to the day.

I sold my home and moved to Florida in May. In April, we will celebrate our sixth anniversary. We have lived in Hacienda Heights in Riverview, and after we sell our home we plan on moving back to Ohio, where we both have relatives. Jim tells me we have so much love that wherever we live it will flow out the doors when we open them. He never lets a day go by without telling me he loves me. I have never felt so loved.

Jim and Pat Shepard live in Riverview.