Our Story

In 1989 I worked as a hostess in the BCM Disco on Mallorca, Spain. Each evening during the season, some 5000 men and women passed through the club’s doors. Stars and entertainers the likes of LaToya Jackson and Milli Vanilli sang there. Well… they were stars at one point weren’t they? Anyway, it’s fair to say I’m not easily star struck nor do people impress me in general. So why did this man get under my skin?

One of America’s Naval Fleets was visiting the island and it was club policy not to admit people wearing uniforms. We had turned several Marines and Sailors away at the door this particular evening for wearing their uniforms and although there was some grumbling, most went on their way to find another venue to enjoy the evening. That is until “He” walked up the stairs with some of his Shipmates. I met them at the door and launched into my usual spiel about our uniform policy and “He” just stood there looking at me with those sad, brown eyes. Before I knew it “He” had a name, Ron and he and his friends were walking into the club with the promise they would dress appropriately when they returned the next evening.

I had been bewitched by those sad, brown eyes and the diplomatic charm of a Marine who was on a mission and would not be defeated. He was a true gentleman. The “Yes” and “No ma’ams” didn’t hurt either. They disappeared into the club and I returned to business as usual. A short time later Ron walked up to me in the lobby with a single, red rose and handed it to me with a “Thank you” for bending the uniform rule. Now, I had been given flowers at work before and they never left with me. I found someone to give them to or they ended up in the trash. On this occasion I must admit the rose went home with me as did the other three I received from him over the next few evenings.

Ron’s ship, the U.S.S. Coral Sea, CV-43, was only in Mallorca for 4 days and he spent every evening at the club with his friends, dancing and stealing short conversations with me while I worked. On the second evening he invited me to meet him for lunch the next day at a little outdoor cafe’ not far from the disco. I honestly cannot remember why I stood him up but I could just imagine him standing or sitting there waiting for me and I truly expected never to see him again. He returned though and on his last evening we exchanged mailing addresses so we could keep in touch. Oh, how I wish Gmail had been around back then. I received his last letter in October of 1989 and wondered if he had even received the last few I sent him.

I thought of him often and wondered what he was doing, on which ocean he was sailing and hoping he would sail back into my life sometime soon. Maybe then I could tell him how I felt looking into those sad, brown eyes. After the first Gulf War in 1991 I wondered if he had been deployed or, God forbid, killed in action. I can’t explain why I was so interested in seeing him again. I guess I felt there was so much I wanted to say to him and I didn’t get the chance. So many things I wanted him to say to me.

I searched for him with the help of other Sailors and Marines that had visited Mallorca over the next several years and even found a retired Sailor living in Wisconsin who was most helpful and supportive but it just wasn’t to be. I want you to know when I finally threw Ron’s roses away, more than a decade later, they were nothing more than dried stems and rose petal dust in the bottom of a floral box.

One day I sat down at my computer and told myself I would try one last time to find him. The screen flickered and as I scanned the long list I couldn’t believe my eyes. There it was! Sgt Ron Tibbs of the U.S.S. Coral Sea, CV-43. Could it be true? I mean it was 2006, more than 17 years since I had seen him. I clicked the link and sent him an email hoping beyond all hope I would get a response. Three hours later my inbox chirped. It was him. And I can’t say this is the end. Like all good fairy tale love stories… This is just the beginning.