The Path of True Love is Across the Furrows
--by Ben Henneke

The question is still moot. Is there such a thing as “true love?” For the sixty - I don't dare say sixty-odd for obvious reasons -- for the sixty-three years of our married life, Ellen and I have had various opinions, taken differing sides, wondered if one could define such a label.

The question first arose for us back in 1940, the first year of our marriage and - coincidentally -- the first year of the freshman football program at the University of Tulsa.

As the youngest and newest faculty member I found the entire freshman team in my beginning speech class. The way to learn to speak is to speak, therefore my first responsibility was to get each man on his feet as often as possible and secondly, to keep him involved when he was not on his feet.

Debate. My solution was debate.

There could be two full 25-minute debates each class hour. Two affirmative and two negative speakers at five minutes each, one chairman, one critic, one timekeeper, for each debate, making a total of 14 performers each hour. All non-combatants voting on the winners, giving reason for their choices.

A slate of debate topics was discussed and agreed upon the first day of class.

Inexorably the day came when one of the agreed upon topics was “Resolved, There is such a thing as true love.”

The second affirmative brought his argument to a rousing conclusion:

“Mr. Chairman, gentlemen of the jury, we have heard the feeble ideas of my worthy opponents, but I put the question to them, account for a marriage between a tall, wide-shouldered, slim-hipped, firmly-muscled man - a man with curly hair, clear eyes, healthy skin, an Olympic champion. Imagine such a man married to a dumpy, fat, greasy-haired woman with acne, dandruff, bad breath and a runny nose. How can my worthy opponent account for a marriage between two such as I have described except to admit it is true love?”

“I rest my case.”

The first negative jumped to his feet to rebut ignoring the chairman's attempts to maintain order.

“The gentleman of the affirmative who paints us a picture of a handsome broad-shouldered man with curly hair and regular features marrying a woman who is greasy haired and disgustingly fat, can think the only reason for their marriage is true love. Hell! Maybe she can plow!”

The voting was spirited but the advocates of true love lost. Everyone stayed around to re-argue the case. Diehards amongst them put the question to me.

“Prof, you're just married. Isn't there such a thing as true love?”

I escaped, promising to give an answer after I learned if Ellen could plow.

I still don't know.