How we met...
I joined the Air Force on January 3rd, 1995. I had already been in college a year and a half, held 2 jobs at once and maintained a decent GPA, but God was telling me to move. I didn't know it was God. I just thought I needed to get out of my parent's house. I won't apologize. That's how I felt. When I got to basic training I immediately went to church and found them lacking a person to play the piano. I volunteered, tried out, and got the "job." It was free time away from the other 50 menstruating women that I was subjected to, and I honestly enjoyed it. There is only one piano, so I was in a pretty visible position. The choir had 30-50 people in it, depending on the Sunday. Joe was in the choir. He knew me, I knew him not.
We graduated basic and, unbeknownst to me, he was in my "brother" flight, which meant we were on the same time table. We both got assignments to Monterey, California and the Defense Language Institute (DLI). He was "slotted" for Korean and I was "slotted" for Spanish. I was furious. I wanted Korean, Japanese, Persian, Arabic, ANYTHING but Spanish, which I already spoke fluently enough to get into or out of trouble. The First Shirt told me to be quiet and go to class, so I did. I let the Air Force waste $60,000 of your tax-payer dollars to train me in a language I already knew.
Joe saw me in the cafeteria one day and I was laughing with some friends. He thought I was laughing at him. I still knew him not. We came in with 22 people, so I had seen him in our various "newcomer" meetings, but didn't pay any attention. I had determined to forgo my heathen ways and not date until God said, "This is him." I knew God would make it obvious. When I first got to DLI, within 2 days I had offers of dates. I won't say how many because I don't want to brag. Being a female in the military automatically makes you more attractive than you really are, so there's not much to brag about. In order to keep what we called "sharks" away from me, I began hanging out with Louis. He was nice, but he wasn't for me. He was my "boyfriend" for the sake of saying, "Don't ask me out. I have a boyfriend." Joe had a roommate who, apparently, wanted to date me, but the roommate was shy. Joe tried fixing me up with him and I firmly said, "No." In the process, Joe and I became friends. In typical Tori fashion, I declared that there was no way he could beat me wrestling. I was raised in Texas, after all, with a Dad and a brother and brother's friends. Open mouth, insert foot. At the time, Joe was 5'7" tall and 135 pounds. That was a pause for your laughter. It's true. I just KNEW he couldn't beat me. We went to the gym's wrestling mats and he proceeded to pin me several times, which made Louis very upset and made me go, "Hmmm." You know, like the song, "Things that Make You Go, 'Hmmm'." Anyway, we started talking, and since we were in the beginning phase of our military career, we were on pretty severe restrictions for where we could go and what we could do. We could play ping-pong or pool and eat at the chow hall, and we could only remove our boots if we were getting into bed. If we left our rooms, we had to have those boots on and laced. Anyway, we talked every chance we got, and to be quite honest, he's a great listener. I am too. We both listened and talked. We had a lot in common, specifically things that matter: same faith, parents still married, both believed in raising our own children (no day-care), etc. We ended up going with a group to play ping-pong one night and my ankle gave out as I went to hit the ball. My ankles were notoriously weak at that time due to running track and playing basketball, and I had already severely sprained both ankles several times. This one was different. I was pretty sure it was broken, and within 30 seconds of the "snap" that we all heard, we had a VERY difficult time getting my boot off. My ankle was purple, swollen, and we had to WALK down the hill to the nearest clinic. We weren't allowed to ride in a vehicle because we were still in "training." Joe and Bryan carried me down the hill. I guess I was pretty heavy because both of them were panting pretty hard. About half-way the CQ van picked us all up, and when Joe put me in the van, he kissed the back of my hand. I know, that sounds so corny, but it was the sweetest kiss I had ever had. The doctor said the ankle wasn't broken. It's a good thing he didn't X-Ray my heart because it was gone.
We met February 20th. He kissed my hand March 9th and we went out to dinner for the first time on March 16th. He asked me to marry him on his birthday, April 17th, and we were married May 28th....yes...all in the same year.
We graduated basic and, unbeknownst to me, he was in my "brother" flight, which meant we were on the same time table. We both got assignments to Monterey, California and the Defense Language Institute (DLI). He was "slotted" for Korean and I was "slotted" for Spanish. I was furious. I wanted Korean, Japanese, Persian, Arabic, ANYTHING but Spanish, which I already spoke fluently enough to get into or out of trouble. The First Shirt told me to be quiet and go to class, so I did. I let the Air Force waste $60,000 of your tax-payer dollars to train me in a language I already knew.
Joe saw me in the cafeteria one day and I was laughing with some friends. He thought I was laughing at him. I still knew him not. We came in with 22 people, so I had seen him in our various "newcomer" meetings, but didn't pay any attention. I had determined to forgo my heathen ways and not date until God said, "This is him." I knew God would make it obvious. When I first got to DLI, within 2 days I had offers of dates. I won't say how many because I don't want to brag. Being a female in the military automatically makes you more attractive than you really are, so there's not much to brag about. In order to keep what we called "sharks" away from me, I began hanging out with Louis. He was nice, but he wasn't for me. He was my "boyfriend" for the sake of saying, "Don't ask me out. I have a boyfriend." Joe had a roommate who, apparently, wanted to date me, but the roommate was shy. Joe tried fixing me up with him and I firmly said, "No." In the process, Joe and I became friends. In typical Tori fashion, I declared that there was no way he could beat me wrestling. I was raised in Texas, after all, with a Dad and a brother and brother's friends. Open mouth, insert foot. At the time, Joe was 5'7" tall and 135 pounds. That was a pause for your laughter. It's true. I just KNEW he couldn't beat me. We went to the gym's wrestling mats and he proceeded to pin me several times, which made Louis very upset and made me go, "Hmmm." You know, like the song, "Things that Make You Go, 'Hmmm'." Anyway, we started talking, and since we were in the beginning phase of our military career, we were on pretty severe restrictions for where we could go and what we could do. We could play ping-pong or pool and eat at the chow hall, and we could only remove our boots if we were getting into bed. If we left our rooms, we had to have those boots on and laced. Anyway, we talked every chance we got, and to be quite honest, he's a great listener. I am too. We both listened and talked. We had a lot in common, specifically things that matter: same faith, parents still married, both believed in raising our own children (no day-care), etc. We ended up going with a group to play ping-pong one night and my ankle gave out as I went to hit the ball. My ankles were notoriously weak at that time due to running track and playing basketball, and I had already severely sprained both ankles several times. This one was different. I was pretty sure it was broken, and within 30 seconds of the "snap" that we all heard, we had a VERY difficult time getting my boot off. My ankle was purple, swollen, and we had to WALK down the hill to the nearest clinic. We weren't allowed to ride in a vehicle because we were still in "training." Joe and Bryan carried me down the hill. I guess I was pretty heavy because both of them were panting pretty hard. About half-way the CQ van picked us all up, and when Joe put me in the van, he kissed the back of my hand. I know, that sounds so corny, but it was the sweetest kiss I had ever had. The doctor said the ankle wasn't broken. It's a good thing he didn't X-Ray my heart because it was gone.
We met February 20th. He kissed my hand March 9th and we went out to dinner for the first time on March 16th. He asked me to marry him on his birthday, April 17th, and we were married May 28th....yes...all in the same year.
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