Magnificent Desolation_ The Long Journey Home From the Moon - Buzz Aldrin [108]
IN THE MIDST of the flurry of activity in 1986, I again raised with Lois the issue of our relationship. “I think we should only go out with each other,” I suggested. Lois was glad to date me, but remained cautious.
One day in August, Lois and I hopped in my red Mercedes-Benz convertible and headed from Laguna to Los Angeles along one of the most scenic roads in America, the twists and turns of the Pacific Coast Highway, PCH 1. With the wind blowing in our hair, the blue sky above us, and the blue water to our left, I said, “You know, I’m wearing this male West Point ring, but there’s a female version of the ring. Do you think you might like one?” I kept my eyes glued to the road as I drove.
Lois glanced at my bulky West Point ring, and replied noncommittally “Oh, I might like that.”
Still driving and looking straight ahead, I said, “And I thought, for a wedding ring, I might get you a moon rock.” I still didn’t look at her, but I could almost feel my eyes twinkling.
“A wedding ring, Buzz?” Lois repeated. “Does that mean … wedding? Are you talking about a wedding?”
“Well, yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” I turned and looked at Lois. “Would that be exclusive enough?”
“Yes, absolutely!” Lois affirmed. “I think I’d like that.” I could tell that despite my awkward proposal of marriage, Lois was thrilled, although she was still somewhat careful about how she responded.
“Okay,” I said, “let’s plan to get married.”
“Well, let’s not tell anybody right away,” Lois suggested. “Not until we are sure we really want to do this.”
I just smiled. I realized that Lois was thinking that I might back out, and she did not want to be embarrassed publicly. After all, even my friends had told her that I was a ladies’ man.
Lois took her time thinking through the matter, and even sought the advice of her dear friend, Sandra Day O’Connor. “Sandra, Buzz Aldrin has asked me to marry him!” Lois confided. “What do you think?”
“I think that is marvelous!” Sandra responded without hesitation. “Buzz is a wonderful man, a true American hero.” Sandra’s approval of me eased Lois’s mind, but she proceeded cautiously nonetheless.
Slowly, over the next few weeks, I convinced Lois that I was sincere. That fall, we attended Lois’s Stanford class reunion. Worried that I would become dismayed and call everything off, she still did not want to reveal our engagement to anyone. And she wasn’t quite sure how I would react if I knew her real age beneath all that youthful beauty. While in her early thirties, Lois’s chestnut brown hair had suddenly and inexplicably turned a striking silver gray. Over the years, it continued to lighten, and from then on she became known as a platinum blonde, even though she never colored her hair in any way. Her hair made guessing her age difficult. As we walked the campus grounds through the many reunion gatherings, several friends waved and called out to Lois from the Class of ′61 tent. As we started mingling, Lois said casually, “Well, here we are.”
We socialized with many red-clad alumni, some of whom were from Lois’s Southern California circle of friends, and realizing the kickoff time for the football game was closing in, I said, “Lois, hadn’t we better head over to your reunion tent?”
“Buzz, how did you find out my age?” Lois asked in amazement.
“I looked at your driver’s license quite some time ago.”
We headed over to the tent for the Class of ′51, where I met many of Lois’s actual classmates, and we had a ball. Of course none of them could quite keep up with her energy.
When Lois and I first got together, I was still working as a consultant for SAIC, although I rarely went in to the office. I wasn’t making a lot of money, but I didn’t need a lot. Other than my condo payment, I was debt-free. I did, however, need a challenge to keep my mind occupied. When I visited Lois’s family at their home in Paradise Valley, outside Phoenix, it was obvious to me that Lois came