The Night I Become Homecoming Queen

I could not believe they had voted me! There I stood in my blue lace sequined dress that had a split up the side and a low back: the whole of my senior class standing and applauding and smiling before me as I held the stage, wide-eyed and star-struck. Someone placed flowers in my arms and a tiara on my head—I could not even tell you who. All I could feel was electricity: I was so overwhelmed—nothing like this had ever happened to me! And then they called my boyfriend’s name (now my husband of nearly two decades)—“And your Homecoming King, Anthony Miller!”—and up he came—jauntily as ever, all smiles, looking at me like he loved me and had total faith and confidence in me—the way he always did (and always has). I nearly melted: it was like living a dream—a scene in a movie—and, oh, how I did not want it to ever end! We smiled and laughed at one another (I am sure I cried a little, too), and then we took the floor and danced to “Don’t Close Your Eyes” by Keith Whitley (—I still love, love, love this song to this day!). When I close my eyes now, I see it and feel it all over again—it was such an honor, such a moment that I never ever anticipated for myself. Yet, there I was, 1999 Homecoming Queen in my senior year of high school at Atkinson County High—feeling on top of the world and so blissfully happy with my love as we held each other, celebrated by our peers, all of whom seemed as equally joyful to be sharing in this moment with us.
How did it happen? I sometimes go back and ask myself that question. I was never the type of girl to dream of being Homecoming Queen. I was popular at school and had lots of friends—but that sort of thing just wasn’t on my radar. I had far greater priorities in my life than the pursuit of crowns and flowers and accolades at dances. I smile at myself to think that now, because while I never frowned or turned my nose up at honors, never yearned for them or for the spotlight, I also recognize the great feeling of pride (and even humility—I don’t know how—but, yes, those feelings can co-exist in one’s heart) that overcame me when I was thrust into the spotlight for that moment by my peers. Why did they do it? They could have called so many others, cast their vote to honor any one of the girls or guys in our class. Did they see something story-book about us? Maybe—it was one of those kinds of stories: The high school romance that just seems so perfect, you have to applaud it: I get it. But I think it also had something to do with who I was—who I’ve always been my whole life.
My class voted me “Most Likely to Succeed” that same year. I was always kind to everyone and always saw the good in people. No one who knew me ever knew me to have a bad or negative word about anybody. I cheered on the squad with the other girls, volunteered at the Food Bank, the Humane Society, a local nursing home, and was a Backpack Buddy (which is where you pack bags of food for kids who don’t have a full meal to eat when they get home from school). I even helped out at the Coffee Regional Medical Center in the baby ward. I did all these things not because I was trying to impress other people or because I wanted to spruce up my resume with all sorts of extra-curricular activities that would make me look good. I did them because I cared about all of it. I loved doing good works for people and being part of the community and just having an all around positive attitude. That was my thing—that was what I did—and that was what I was known for. I always had a smile for everyone I met—not because I was faking anything but just because everyone I met always made me smile.
Maybe that was what made my class want to honor me in the way they did—that night—at our senior year Homecoming Dance. To be honest, I haven’t really thought much about their reasons till now. Anytime I’ve remembered that night, I’ve always focused on all the warm feelings—the happiness—the beautiful faces that come to me out of the recesses of my memory.
After the dance, I walked with Anthony, my King, outside across the grass, to a little hill where we could look out at everything—the school, the campus, the neighboring houses. The night air was cool but felt like such a relief after being inside in the hall all evening. The sky was full of stars and our friends were departing in different directions, some going for a late night snack, others heading to someone’s house to continue the fun. Music from car stereos could be heard retreating down the lanes, then gone.
I leaned into Anthony. “Did you ever dream this would happen?” I asked him. He smiled down at me and just shook his head and held me tight. I felt so alive—so grateful, so thankful, so full of love, as we looked over the now empty football field where we had won—14-7—against Ware County. The whole sky smiled back at us, winking at us with stars, and lighting our way by the moon. We held hands and walked back across the field. I collected my heels from the spot where I had cheered with my pom-poms alongside my friends the night before, and we headed home.
So many years have passed since—but that moment when they called my name is still as surprising to me today as it was nearly twenty years ago. I smile now thinking back on it, as I look out the window at my husband, out in the yard, perched on a ladder, sawing at the branch of a tree. “So many blessings, so many friends, so many good times!” I say to myself—but the air is getting chilly. A cloud has blocked out the setting sun. I decide to warm up the kettle in case Anthony wants a cup of tea when he comes in soon.