John Y. Brown, III

Thank goodness for imaginary umbrellas and silver linings.

26 years ago this week, Rebecca Jackson (now Rebecca J. Brown) showed up to work at a Derby party my father and step-mother put on. It was a combination Derby and political event. My father was running for governor (term limits at the time prevented him from seeking a second term in 1983 so he had to wait until 1987). He was ahead in the polls but there was this fella named Wallace Wilkinson who was getting attention for proposing a lottery and he had a new hotshot campaign manager named James Carville, who had just come off his first major campaign victory and was looking to make a name for himself.

But 26 years ago yesterday isn’t about politics. But rather romance. I had invited a friend of mine to join me, Andy Blieden. Andy and I had been friends since high school and he was determined to fix me up on a date. The week before we had met for dinner and Andy asked when I had last been out on a date. I answered somewhat jokingly, “Let’s see, this is Thur. So….Wed, Tues, Mon…Um…About 8 ½ months since my last date, give or take a week.” That did it for Andy.

At the party, the outgoing and slightly intoxicated Andy, struck up a conversation with one of the Southern Belle’s greeting guests. He asked her what her name was. “Rebecca Jackson,” she said. “Are you dating anyone?” Andy asked point blank. “No, not right now.” Rebecca responded. “Would you like to date someone?” Andy humorously and pointedly asked. And then brought me over and introduced me.

But before introducing us, Andy pointed out Rebecca to me and said, “You have to meet this girl. She’s beautiful and not dating anyone now.” I said OK and then scoped her out from a distance. She had long blonde hair and seemed sweet and shy. I liked that. So Andy brought me to her and said, “Rebecca, meet John the third. John, meet Rebecca.”

I said, “Hi. How are you?”

“Fine. How are you?” Rebecca responded.

“Are you in a sorority?” I asked.

“Yes. Are you in a fraternity?” Rebecca asked.

“No.” I said.

After a pause, I said, “Well, nice to meet you.”

It was an inauspicious start but later in the day I struck up a much more meaningful conversation with Rebecca about such intimate topics as what she was majoring in and even disclosed my major, too. It was a start.

As the party was winding down I noticed that the group of Southern Belles were leaving the party. I went down and said goodbye and thanked them. And looked longingly at Rebecca because I wanted to ask her out on a date but she was surrounded by sorority sisters and it was too embarrassing for me to pull her aside. She seemed to look longingly back at me, but I couldn’t be sure. So I waved goodbye and as I walked away I was angry at myself for not having the courage to just ask this young lady out. I let her get away.

I missed my chance. She was gone.

Or so I thought.

A few minutes later while I was talking to a photographer working the party, I looked up and saw Rebecca walking toward the house. She had made up a story to her sorority sisters that she needed to go back inside the house to retrieve an umbrella she left behind. She never had an umbrella but wanted to give me another chance without all the other young ladies around to come up with the gumption to ask her out.

I saw her and without thinking went with my gut, “Rebecca. Hey there. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

I said, “You know. Um. ….Maybe sometime, um. We can, you know….If you want to….go out, or something.” Rebecca coolly said, “Yeah. That would be OK.” She added she was moving out of her sorority house and into an apartment that week and didn’t have a new phone number yet. I wrote down my phone number and said, “Why don’t you call me sometime, when you get settled in?” She grimaced slightly and I realized giving Rebecca my number and asking her to call me was not the proper way to ask a true Southern Belle on a date. I quickly recovered by promising to call her sorority in a couple days before she moved out.

I had her number but she didn’t have her umbrella. But achieved her goal of giving a shy guy a little extra time to do what she knew he wanted –and needed–to do.

And I’m awfully grateful for that. And will always have a soft spot in my heart for umbrellas, real and imaginary. Because that one umbrella changed my life forever—and without it I would have missed marrying my soul mate.

Three weeks later, my father lost the Democratic primary for governor to Wallace Wilkinson—but there was a silver lining. I came out a big winner and won the heart of a loving lady now named Rebecca J. Brown. And she won my heart. By a landslide.

I’m not sure what I’m whispering into Rebecca’s ear in the picture above on the afternoon or our wedding day 4 years later…..but it could have been something reaffirming my profound gratitude for sliver linings—- and imaginary umbrellas.