March 17th, 2025
In eighth grade, at Our Lady of the Assumption School in 1963, I developed my first crush on a girl. Her name was Cathy Javorski. I don’t know what it was that attracted me to her; she was certainly a nice girl and was as pretty as any eighth-grade girl, but I don’t remember much about her. Like any young kid with a crush, I kept it secret. But one day, some girls at school asked me who I liked. I didn’t know how to answer; I couldn’t lie, but I didn’t want to expose my secret, so I quickly said “Katrina” and stalked off, as if that resolved my dilemma.
I’m not sure of the timing of this, but I think that, sometime after this incident, an article appeared in the school newspaper extolling me as the refutation of the line about “a jack of all trades and master of none”. The article turned out to be quite prescient; I have certainly lived up to that point, with my huge range of interests and expertise. At the time, though, I certainly had no inkling of this propensity. I was of course VERY flattered by the article and remember approaching the nun who was in charge of the students who put together the newspaper and asking her “What is this?” I could not conceal my pleasure and pride in the story, but I was genuinely astonished by it. Sure enough, Cathy had authored the story. Had I an ounce of social intelligence, I would have recognized it as an act of encouragement. But no, I was much too dumb.
I remember only one other incident involving Cathy. I had used a rock tumbler to polish some rocks I had found, and one came out quite pretty and well-shaped. I made a necklace out of it and visited Cathy’s house to present it to her. I recall having lunch and asking her if she could chip in some money so I could buy additional jewelry parts. Talk about taking all the romance out of a gift! Yep, I was really stupid.
Sadly, the next year we were separated by circumstances. My family moved to a house about five miles away from Cathy’s house, too far for me to bicycle, and Cathy and I went to separate high schools. We never saw each other again.