Author: cathy

In the early 80s, Friday afternoon happy hour at Simo’s was an institution. And on Friday, February 13th, 1981 I was there as usual with some friends.

Across the way I recognized a Babcock student I knew. I worked my way across the room to say hi. He introduced me to a large circle of guys and when he got to a cute blond with blue eyes I perked up. He’s cute, I thought. I could date him!

I filed his name away and drifted back to my undergrad crowd. Later that night was a school-wide Valentine’s concert that I attended with some girlfriends. When we arrived, who should be on stage hanging out with the band, Janice, but the blue-eyed guy from Simo’s. Cute and fun! I could definitely date him! I thought. But unfortunately, we didn’t run into each other that night.

Wednesday night of the next week found me dancing away at another institution of WFU life in the 80s, TOG. Up walked the cute guy.

“Hello, Kim Love,” he said. Just from the tone of his voice I could tell he had not remembered my name from Friday’s introduction. But I took comfort in the fact that he was at least interested enough to ask someone then come over and speak.

“Hello, Tim Stump,” I replied. I, the world’s worst name rememberer ever, had not forgotten anything about him at all.

We closed TOG down that night — slow dancing to the always last song in those days, Goodnight, My Love.

Our first official date followed on Saturday, February 28th and our wedding sixteen months later on June 5, 1982.

Tim’s still cute and fun (at least to me!) and after 35 years we often say we’re still on our first date – because it feels that way!

Thanks for the opportunity to share!!

All the best,

Kim

Featured in Charlotte Observer

By: Andrea Weigl

Kim Love Stump, 55, of Charlotte, wrote about the measuring cup that belonged to her mother, Betty Keeling Love.

The measuring cup was a first anniversary present from my father to my mother. The only measuring cup of my childhood, it was constantly in use. I learned to cook using its lined measurements. For 50 years, it sat on the counter in my mother’s kitchen. When she died, it remained in place, greeting my father each morning. When he died, I locked their door and left everything of monetary value. I would deal with those things later. But the cup? It came home with me that very day. It now sits on my kitchen counter, offering a full cup of sweet memories.

Read full article here.

Photo by: T. Ortega Gaines, Charlotte Observer