First love, last love, lasting love

It has been more than 40 years since Cathy Navin saw her first love, but that hasn't kept the downtown Las Vegas resident from thinking about him and sharing their story daily.

The daughter of a Navy brat, Navin, then 14, had been living in Hawaii for two weeks when a friend introduced her to a classmate named David LeRoy Bell. Love at first sight, Navin said, was the only way to describe her feelings.

"My friend said, 'Cathy, I'd like you to meet my friend David,' " Navin said. "My eyes saw nothing else. I saw nothing but David. David was it."

An instant connection sparked between the two teenagers, who spent every day going to the beach or catching a movie. Bell took Navin to the senior prom, and the following morning, Navin had a special surprise for her mother.

"I woke up one day and told my mother, 'David and I are going to get married,' " Navin said. "She was cool with it. I told her, 'We're just going to live on the beach.' "

But Navin knew better. While Bell served in the Army, Navin took a couple of part-time jobs, attempting to save up for a wedding. Come Valentine's Day of 1969, however, everything changed. Bell, 20, was killed by a land mine during the Vietnam War. It was a time that Navin struggled to come to terms with, especially after Bell's parents ordered the teenager to avoid attending his funeral.

"For a child -- because I really was a child -- that was a little bit overwhelming," Navin said. "But after the very hardest first six months, when my only thoughts did revolve around joining my beloved in death I saw him."

Navin said she often sees Bell's face and feels his presence, especially during episodes in which she suffers epileptic seizures.

She wrote a poem, "I Saw His Face," which has been read throughout the world. Navin said her short time with Bell propels her to help others who need guidance and healing.

Navin, however, didn't give up on love after Bell's death. She met Bob Navin, her husband, in 1989, and found love that she didn't believe was possible.

"In my life, David was so much a part of my life -- and he still is -- and I said I would never have the love (again)," Navin said. "But I did fall in love with Bob, and it is a great marriage. He knows of David, and he knows he's there."

Bob Navin said the attraction to his wife is based on trust and the openness with her past.

"It was pretty much her honesty that attracted me to her," Bob Navin said. "Cathy's a very religious person. She has a deep belief in the afterlife. She believes we can communicate with those who have gone on, and one (of those people) was her David. That's fine with me, and it doesn't distract from our relationship."

Navin's love for both men, she said, has transformed her life in various ways.

"I'm blessed that God's put an angel in heaven and an angel on Earth," Navin said.

Contact Paradise/Downtown View reporter Lisa Carter at lcarter@viewnews.com or 383-4686.

A MAGICAL ENCOUNTER

Penn Jillette remembers something a little unusual about his wedding.

"Our marriage (upset) Elvis," said Penn, the talkative, larger half of the Penn & Teller comedy magic duo.

He and his wife, Emily, married in 2004 at the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel.

"The proprietor is an Elvis impersonator. He offered to give us a full Elvis wedding for free. We said no. We didn't really have in mind an Elvis wedding. And Elvis pouted."

Penn and Emily met in 2003 after Emily attended his show at the Rio. She said she saw him signing autographs afterward and waited until the crowd dissipated so she could talk to him.

"It wasn't really a plan," Emily said. "I wasn't a stalker. I was an impromptu stalker."

Penn said the two connected instantly, especially after Emily mentioned Richard Dawkins, one of the world's most famous atheists. Penn and Emily are libertarians and atheists. They exchanged information and ended up emailing each other all night.

"It was originally a fairly intellectual relationship," Penn said.

They had their first date the next day at Starbucks inside the MGM Grand.

"The cool thing was, on the date, I wasn't particularly nervous," Emily recalled. "I love him dearly now, but I didn't have this huge crush on him."

Penn was the nervous one, Emily said. He twice knocked over a plate of fruit they were sharing while talking and using hand gestures.

Emily returned to Florida, and the two stayed in contact. They dated long-distance for several months, and she made frequent trips to see him. Eventually they decided that she would move into his southwest-area home.

"We're both libertarian and atheist," Penn said. "She's moral. She doesn't drink. She doesn't use drugs. She's trustworthy. It's all the stuff that's not usually considered romantic or sexy but is the most important stuff in the world.

"One thing you can't do is pretend that opposites attract. That's been disproved many, many times. You have to agree no matter how much you want to think that there's some sort of connection at the heart."

Penn and Emily were very matter-of-fact about their goals when planning her relocation, including their desire to have children. They planned for and had two children, a girl, Moxie CrimeFighter, and a boy, Zolten.

-- Jeff Mosier

53 YEARS AND COUNTING

Theron and Naomi Goynes' home could be renamed the Goynes Family Museum.

Wall space is scarce in the North Las Vegas home the couple have shared for almost 48 years.

Memorabilia from their 53-year marriage covers nearly every nook and cranny. Snapshots, awards and certificates from Theron's long careers as an educator and North Las Vegas city councilman hang alongside family photos, diplomas and other keepsakes of their children and grandchildren.

Mementos from the dedication of their namesake elementary school and political campaigns of Theron, their daughter and North Las Vegas Mayor Pro Tem Pamela Goynes-Brown and son Byron Goynes dot their living spaces.

The couple met as young teachers in a rural Arkansas school. Their first date was also the first day they met.

"I always made my clothes, and I thought I was looking cute," Naomi said. "We had a social, and I thought, 'Why is Mr. Goynes here?' He surprised me and asked if he could walk me to the dance."

Theron's proposal mirrored that event.

"He rang the doorbell and surprised me," Naomi said. "He said, 'I'm going to California, and I'd like you to go with me,' and pulled a ring out of his pocket."

Naomi followed her heart -- and her mom's advice.

"I wore his ring with pride," she said.

The couple married that July.

They said they've weathered good and bad times together and found their groove. Although Theron favors cooking and shopping for clothes and groceries, Naomi tags along. The retired couple diligently attend each others' doctor appointments and social engagements. They're staples at Sunday service and their family members' events, including each City Council meeting their daughter serves.

"You see one, you see both of us," Naomi said.

Why are they always together? It's all for love.

"He once said, 'I love you. If you're sweet to me, I'll be sweet to you,' " she said. "He lived up to that promise."

-- Maggie Lillis

IT'S A SMALL WORLD

Scott Seidewitz and his wife, Beli Andaluz, met in Antigua, Guatemala, in January 2006.

Beli owned a salon and spa there. Scott was invited to the wedding of a good friend, Lisa Potter.

He flew in the day of the wedding and hurried to the gardens where it would take place. When told that Lisa was in the middle of getting her hair done, he decided to stop in and let her know he'd arrived.

"As soon as I walked in ... I was struck by the vision of a gorgeous Guatemalan woman doing Lisa's hair," he said. "I was so knocked off my feet that I almost forgot to say 'hi' to Lisa."

Beli was concentrating on the thick locks of the bride-to-be, who wanted a French twist.

"She had the longest hair in the world," Beli recalled. "I was like, 'How am I going to do this without making her look like a conehead?' "

She was so busy that she had no time to speak with Scott. In fact, she was concentrating so hard, he was barely on her radar. But Lisa saw his reaction and eventually convinced Beli to be Scott's date for the wedding.

At the reception, Beli also caught the eye of another man, who began flirting with her. The two men began vying for her attention.

"Then Scott went, " 'Hey, John,' or whatever his name was. 'How is your newborn?' " Beli said. "And that was that."

She and Scott went with a group of people to a nightclub and then to a party. The evening included a kiss.

"It was one of those kisses that, when you kiss someone, you feel those fireflies ," she said.

They ended up having a romantic three-day weekend in Antigua before he flew back to the United States.

After the wedding, he returned to Guatemala to see her, and they had a great time again.

"But I was a 41-year-old bachelor," he said. "I'd been in relationships, but I wasn't the best at making a commitment."

They dropped out of touch for a while, although they emailed now and then.

"He'd told me he'd dated a doctor and how he was into politics," Beli said. "I thought he wanted a different kind of woman, a big shot."

Scott bought a ticket to the East Coast to attend a Christmas wedding, this time in Front Royal, Va. Meanwhile, Beli had made arrangements for her and her son Kai to visit her brother over Christmas. Her brother had moved to Front Royal, a town of about 14,000. One kiss, and it was as though they'd never been apart.

"The world kept bringing us together," Scott said. "Can you imagine the coincidence, both of us ending up in the same small town in Virginia?"

They had another romantic interlude but parted again.

Within a year, Beli had moved to Las Vegas with Kai, and they visited Scott in New York City. A particularly intimate rooftop dinner cemented their future and set the date. He moved to Las Vegas, they opened a hair salon, Pico Madama, and now call Summerlin home.

"He said, 'I'll never leave you again,' " Beli said. "He made me the happiest person in the world."

-- Jan Hogan

BOWLED OVER

Around the clock, Jerry and Joy Francomano love each other and bowling.

Around their places of work, the Centennial Hills couple are not-so-fierce rivals.

Jerry is manager of the Texas Station bowling center, 2101 Texas Star Lane. Joy is manager of the Santa Fe Station bowling center, 4949 N. Rancho Drive.

Theirs is a tale of shared passions and competition.

But Jerry and Joy's meeting involved some bad customer service and a grudge.

"It's a story that Joy loves to tell," Jerry said of their 1987 first encounter.

Jerry was manning his bowling pro shop in the couple's native Virginia when Joy, a competitive bowler, visited. She was put off by his demeanor that day.

She told friends that she met "this rude, obnoxious New Yorker in the pro shop" who lost her business, Jerry said.

But friends and industry leaders told Joy that the "rude, obnoxious New Yorker in the pro shop" was the guy to help improve her game.

"Everyone said that I should go see Jerry because he would take me to the next level," Joy said.

It took time before Joy loosened her grudge and became friends with Jerry. He took a liking to her quickly and made a point to be at bowling competitions that she was to attend.

"I tell people I was a bowler until Joy (came along) because she became better than me," Jerry said.

Four years later, they were an item. Seven years later, they were married.

"It took a long time to wear her down," Jerry said.

Jerry jokes that he proposed monthly until Joy finally said yes one December. Her answer came with a condition and a deadline.

"I said, 'If you can find someone to marry us on Christmas Eve, I'll marry you,' " Joy said.

Jerry found a minister, and the pair were married the morning of Christmas Eve. By the end of the day, they were at work at Jerry's pro shop.

The couple and Joy's teenage son moved to Las Vegas in 2000. Jerry became manager of the Texas Station bowling center and Joy helped with daily operations. About six months later, Joy was vetted for a position at the rival lanes of Santa Fe Station.

"That's when we became competition ," Jerry said.

They keep Sunday as family day, with no talk or play of bowling, Joy said.

-- Maggie Lillis

IT'S NEVER TOO LATE

Love was in the bingo cards for Helmut Landau, 72, and Jenny Rosser, 77.

The Centennial Hills couple's jackpot is owed to a little luck and Santa Fe Station, where they met in 2003 and were married five years later.

The bingo buffs were regulars in the bingo hall long before meeting. Landau, a retired mechanic, played with his late wife of 41 years, and Rosser, a retired fitness instructor, pored over cards with her late husband of 51 years. The pair were widowed within six months of each other.

Despite their devastating losses, the couple said, they kept their hobby.

Landau noticed his future wife and mustered up the courage to approach her Jan. 12, 2003, he recalled. He had saved a seat for Rosser.

"She looked like a nice lady," Landau said.

Rosser said she noticed Landau, too.

"He used to stand by the wall and watch me," she said with a laugh.

A coffee date turned dinner date turned relationship.

"I invited her to go out and have dinner, and from that moment on, we were together," Landau said.

The couple made a mutual decision to wed. Although they married in a Santa Fe Station ballroom in 2008, they opted against stopping downstairs for a game of bingo. The couple took a belated honeymoon cruise last winter.

But the couple visit the bingo parlor five to seven times a week and turn the event into date night. They eat dinner at the casino, play slot machines and move to their usual seats in the bingo hall.

For them, love is magical.

"It must be," Rosser said. "It must be (magical) at this age to start again."

-- Maggie Lillis

THEIR LOVE HAS BALLOONED

The first time Anthony Cooper asked out his future wife, Kathleen, it did not go as he planned. He was in eighth grade, and she was a high school senior.

"I told him to try again after he reached puberty," Kathleen said.

Anthony, or rather Tony, did.

About two years later, on New Year's Eve, they were at an overnight church retreat and ended up spending considerable time together. After eating breakfast at Palace Station, the final stop of the retreat, he asked for her phone number. She told him the wrong number by accident.

Months went by before they would meet again at another church function. She told him the correct number this time, one that Tony still can recite from memory.

Tony and Kathleen live in the Mountain's Edge community and own a balloon-decorating business, Balloons in Las Vegas. Though they were separated by four grades in high school, they are just six months apart in age. Kathleen skipped ahead two grades, and Tony was held back a grade because his family moved often because of his father's military career.

For their first date, Kathleen drove them to the Carl's Jr. at the corner of Nellis Boulevard and Bonanza Road. Tony forgot to open the door for his date, something he has not been able to live down since. They sat in a booth, drank sodas and talked for hours. Kathleen had to get a brace for her leg the next day because she sat on her knee for so long.

Months later, it was time for Tony's family to move again. Tony and Kathleen talked about getting married and staying in Las Vegas together. Tony even had an engagement ring on layaway at a jewelry store inside the Fashion Show mall. The day he paid it off, they walked out of the mall, and Tony proposed in the parking garage minutes later.

The two eloped at the Chapel of Love on Las Vegas Boulevard. They have been married 21 years and have three kids.

"I think the couples that make me most happy are the 70- and 80-year-old couples still holding hands," Tony said. "I would like to see us like that when we're (old), still giving a kiss when one of us leaves the house."

Every year on March 12, the anniversary of their first date, Tony and Kathleen return to the same Carl's Jr. and have sodas together.

Tony learned his lesson, though. He always opens the door for Kathleen.

-- Jeff Mosier

NO LONGER A SECRET

Once, Bruce and Rose Marie Irot kept mum about their love.

They were secretly married for four years before letting anyone know.

Their 1985 nuptials included a picturesque vista and 100 guests. When they had made it official four years earlier, Rose Marie didn't even know it was her wedding day.

"I was at Bruce's house, and the phone rang," she said. "(The caller) said, 'This is Reverend Wright. I'm calling about the Irot wedding.' "

There had been no proposal, and Bruce didn't live with Rose Marie and her four teenage children. Rose Marie went with it.

The now-retired businessman and accountant, respectively, Bruce and Rose Marie met in 1978 as co-workers in California. Bruce, twice engaged, and Rose Marie, once divorced, started as friends.

When Rose Marie decided to move away with her children, she learned of Bruce's true feelings.

"Bruce said, 'What about me? I love you,' " she said.

The couple were calculated about their relationship to protect the feelings of her children. Although they were secretly married, Bruce didn't move into the family home until after their 1985 vow renewal. Their marriage license was a sealed legal document to further protect the secret.

Family and friends ultimately supported their decision.

"Everyone acknowledged we had a right to do it the way we did it," Bruce said.

"I wanted to marry an older man," Rose Marie said. "And I did -- he's two weeks older."

-- Maggie Lillis

A POP-UP marriage

Reba Labat-Lawson and her husband, Ralph Lawson, owe their marriage to an online pop-up ad. It was the winter of 2002. Reba was a single mother of two.

"When my daughter went off to college, I figured it was time for me to have a life again," she said.

She went to an online dating site, match.com, posted her picture and filled out the form.

About the same time, Ralph was in Laughlin, trying to purchase an item online, but an annoying pop-up ad kept preventing him from accessing the site. The persistent pop-up was for the dating site that Reba had just joined.

"The darn thing kept coming up, no matter what I did," he said.

Just to get rid of it, he went through the steps to sign up, something he would have never done on his own, he said. The first woman he was matched with was Reba. They spoke on the phone and decided to meet at a club inside Caesars Palace.

"I didn't wear my glasses because I wanted to look cute," she said. "But that meant I couldn't see."

The nearsighted Reba kept scanning the crowd, searching and searching for him as time ticked away.

"I figured he'd spotted me and didn't like how I looked, that I was fat or something, and he'd left," she said.

Her hopes dashed, she began to cry. Actually, Ralph was in front of her. A call to her cellphone confirmed that she was the woman for whom he'd been waiting.

"She thought I stood her up," he said. "We can joke about it now."

They began talking, enjoyed the music at the club and decided to go to dinner.

"Of course, I told my friends that I'd check in with them, just in case he was an ax murderer," she said.

They talked well into the night. Before they knew it, it was 2 a.m., the restaurant was empty of other patrons, and the waiters were casting weary glances their way.

Ralph said "something magical happened," so magical, he could only toss and turn that night. By 6 a.m., they were on the phone talking and made plans for her to drive to Laughlin later that day.

He gave her precise directions. She still missed the turnoff.

"She ended going, like, 30 miles out of her way," Ralph said.

Things progressed quickly after that. They bought a house in Summerlin together and were married in it nine months after meeting. Ralph and Reba will celebrate their seventh anniversary in July.

-- Jan Hogan

TRUE LOVE, DECADES LATER

A lot of people marry high school classmates. That was the case with Whitney-area residents Keith and Sharon Buck. It just took them 36 years.

Sharon was attending a performance of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" at the Reed Whipple Cultural Center with her adult daughter and son-in-law when she noticed that the actor playing Pharaoh was named Keith Buck.

"I told my daughter I used to know a Keith," Sharon said. "This Keith Buck reminded me of him but bigger and younger than he would have been."

After the performance, Sharon sought out the actor to praise his work.

"I told him I used to know a Keith Buck back in American Falls, Idaho," Sharon said. "He just grinned and said, 'I think the Keith Buck you want to see is standing behind you.' And I turned around and there he (the actor's father) was."

The two had known each other in junior high and high school, but they had gone their separate ways after graduation. Both had married and divorced and found their way to Las Vegas. They reminisced and found a lot in common.

Sharon mentioned that another classmate from American Falls lived in town. She and Keith made arrangements to meet the friend.

Things moved pretty quickly from there. Keith and Sharon got back together a few times and talked about old times and looked through yearbooks.

Two months later, they married.

"It was quick," Sharon said, "but we both knew it was right."

Sharon's parents moved to Las Vegas in 1959. Her father became vice president of the Four Queens. She moved to California, where she was a teacher, and eventually settled in Las Vegas, where she also taught. She was in and out of Las Vegas from the year her folks moved.

Keith didn't arrive until 1980, pursuing work in the carpet industry. When the pair later compared notes, they realized they'd lived in town a decade without bumping into each other.

"I ran into her mother at the bank once," Keith said. "But at that time Sharon was married."

The two were already grandparents when they reconnected. Between them they have seven children (including the younger Keith Buck, who is married to North Las Vegas Mayor Shari Buck), 28 grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren.

-- F. Andrew Taylor

A UNION OF TREKKIES

Inscribed inside Tom and Rebecca Fay's wedding rings is the word "Imzadi" -- a Betazodian word used in the "Star Trek" universe that means "first touched by love" or "soul mate."

"We are both Trekkies," Rebecca said. "We are (science fiction) geeks in general." The word wasn't chosen for their love of "Star Trek" but as a reminder that their love developed at first sight and that they are soul mates.

"We both left that night (when we first met) knowing we should have asked the other one out," said Tom, the executive director for Henderson Libraries . "I'm glad we got a second chance."

Their first encounter happened at a softball game when Rebecca, who works as foundation administrator of the Henderson Business Resource Center, noticed Tom's legs.

"They were shaved," Rebecca said. "I didn't know at the time he was a body builder and they shave their legs."

Rebecca approached Tom to question him about her discovery. However, in their first conversation, Tom's legs never came up.

"I didn't discover this for years later," Tom said. "Now she likes to bring it up."

After the game, they went their separate ways but still thought about each other.

Rebecca called a mutual friend to ask which event Tom would be at next.

"I told him not to tell Tom I was asking about him," Rebecca said. "And of course the first thing he does when he hangs up with me is call Tom and says, 'Guess who was inquiring about you.' "

Tom didn't let the second chance slip away and asked Rebecca out at their next encounter.

Immediately, Tom, an introvert, was attracted to Rebecca's warm personality.

While dating, the couple embarked on many adventures, discovering common attributes and differences.

About six months into the relationship, Tom, a country boy, took Rebecca, a city girl at heart, camping in Ely.

"It was far away," Rebecca remembers. "And it was cold."

The couple started the adventure hiking through caverns. To ensure that they didn't get lost, Tom took out a knife and marked the walls.

However, Rebecca was not informed of his motives and was terrified to hear Tom dragging a switchblade along a wall behind her.

"I thought, 'This guy is going to take me back here and kill,' " Rebecca said.

Tom didn't discover her worries until years later.

"Makes me feel good," Tom joked.

The adventure took a turn that night when they heard gunshots before they went to sleep.

"I figured they were from herders who were trying to scare off a cat or something," Tom said.

Whatever that something was made its way to their tent during the night. Outside, Rebecca could hear sniffing, followed by the sound of something being dragged.

Tom, prepared with a firearm, fired a few shots to scare off whatever the creature was.

"We slept inside the truck that night," Tom said. "There was no getting her back into the tent. It was an interesting date in the first few months."

It didn't hinder the relationship.

"When I came out alive, I knew he was all right," Rebecca said.

Exactly a year after they met, Tom proposed to Rebecca.

The Fays will mark 19 years together in October.

-- Michael Lyle

'I KNEW HE WAS THE ONE'

For Abigail Spinner McBride, the magic moment happened when she first laid eyes on her future husband, Jeff McBride. It just took a while to percolate.

"I saw him around the campfire one night," Abigail said. "I knew he was the one, and I knew I was not ready."

Jeff, a magician, and Abigail, a musician and dancer, met at the Rites of Spring, a conference in Massachusetts focused on music, magic and mythology.

The pair connected as friends and co-workers and traveled for nine years performing magic and music.

"We were great traveling companions," Jeff said. "There was no hanky-panky. We were involved with other people."

The time they spent together gave them a solid base of friendship on which to build a romantic relationship. They knew each other's quirks and how to deal with them.

"For instance, I know if Jeff doesn't eat, he gets a little snarky," Abigail said. "If I walk in after being out all day and say, 'Hi, I'm home,' and he barks at me, instead of taking it personally I can go to the fridge and get him some cheese, put it on a cracker and say, 'Eat that.' "

These days, Jeff is on the road about half of the year, and Abigail comes along on about a third of those trips.

"If I'm going to some small town, she stays here," Jeff said. "If I'm going to London, Paris or Bali, she's more likely to come along."

At home in the Whitney area, Abigail keeps the house, garden and their magic school up and running and works as a part-time massage therapist at several tourist corridor hotels.

"It really works out," Jeff said, "me spinning around the globe and her holding center here."

Even at home, they have their own space.

A two-story addition to the home highlights the couple's differences and similarities. His space on the ground floor is a library filled with arcane tomes and bizarre oddities, including a replica of the Feejee Mermaid, a fake taxidermy creation shown by P.T. Barnum. The mermaid was a gift from Abigail to Jeff.

Her realm on the upper floor is a dance studio, an open space of hardwood floors, natural light and mirrors.

Abigail and Jeff team up on "Wonderground," a monthly event at The Olive, a Mediterranean restaurant at 3850 E. Sunset Road. Part magic and variety show and part Burning Man, "Wonderground" recently celebrated its second anniversary at The Olive.

"On top of showcasing talent that might not be seen locally, Jeff uses the event as a place to stretch his creative wings and showcase new illusions. At most "Wondergrounds," Abigail's belly dancing troupe, the New World Rhythmatism Dancers, performs an improvised dance session.

The couple have been married 10 years.

-- F. Andrew Taylor

QUITE A REUNION

Teri Emory and her husband, Ken, met while teenagers, but theirs is not a high school sweetheart story. They became friends at Great Neck High School in New York when Teri transferred there for her junior year. Ken was a jock and part of her circle of friends. They never dated.

After high school, Ken dated Teri's college friend, Marsha. He'd fly up to Buffalo, N.Y., to see her. He always made sure he stopped in to see Teri, if only for coffee.

Years passed. Teri attended their 10-year high school reunion. Ken did not. By then, she was married and had a daughter, Erica.

Ken, too, married after college, and helped raise his wife's three children before divorcing.

Fast-forward to the school's 40-year reunion in 2006. The light-hearted invitation made reference to the number of alumni who had gone on to become medical professionals and suggested people attend if just for the free medical advice.

"These were kids of privilege," Teri said. "They weren't just doctors and lawyers ... they had hospital wings named after them."

At the event, her biography noted that she was a professor at Hunter College and Fordham University. Ken's claim to fame: professional poker player.

"When I saw his bio, I was expecting to see him in pinkie rings and a Hawaiian print shirt," she said.

Teri made the rounds, reconnecting with everyone in the room. Ken spotted her immediately as she spoke with old friends.

"She was attractive and vital, funny and youthful," he said. "And when I got to talk with her, she was a great listener."

Afterward, she sent about a dozen "let's keep in touch" emails to various people from the reunion. Ken received one. He sent back one that was three pages long. Their nonstop correspondence began. Each exchange told her more about this man who'd welcomed her into a new school those many years ago.

"I blame her for not crossing my path often enough in high school, or we might have gotten together then," Ken said.

The reunion was in October. By December, the tone of the emails had changed. Their relationship had evolved into a romantic one.

She'd finish teaching a class, only to run to her office and check her email. By February, she'd agreed to fly from New York City to Las Vegas to meet him.

"I got on that plane and had a long talk with myself," she said. "I said, 'What the hell are you doing?' "

In May, she made plans to move to Las Vegas. Then her family was asking what the hell she was doing. Her daughter, especially, was dead set against the idea. Then Ken flew east and met Teri's inner circle. Everyone was won over.

Ken and Teri bought a house in Summerlin and were married in it. Teri is now writing a book, "Reunion: Couples Talk About Second Chances with Their First Loves."

-- Jan Hogan

TOGETHER AT WORK AND AT HOME

For Javier and Grace Aguirre, it was love at first sight.

Grace had started working at Sunset Station just six months after Javier when their paths began to cross in the hallways.

Random encounters at work turned to conversations that soon led to dating.

Grace enjoyed Javier's personality, while Javier couldn't turn his eyes from Grace because he thought she was beautiful.

"I told my cousin, 'I'm going to marry that girl,' " Javier said.

And on June 30, 2000, that's what he did.

To propose to Grace, Javier followed a Mexican tradition in which he sends one of his good friends to ask her parents, who then ask her. Both sets of parents then get together, and he finds out whether she accepted the proposal.

"I played a little trick on him," Grace said.

Javier's mother told him Grace wasn't ready to get married yet.

"My whole body just collapsed," Javier said.

Before the full weight of devastation set in, Grace appeared from the other room, telling him she would marry him.

During the 12 years they have been married, they have worked for the same company and learned to balance being married and being co-workers.

"People say they have had problems trying to separate their work relationship and their marriage," Grace said. "Not us. We make it work. We see each other at work, but we always keep it professional."

-- Michael Lyle

'I MARRIED MY STALKER'

In 1999, Holly Silvestri and the public relations firm where she worked were featured in an article in the Nevada Business Journal.

Rob Silvestri, now Holly's husband, was sitting in the lobby of his accountant's office, flipping absentmindedly through the magazine when he spotted Holly's photo. He did a double take.

"I've never had a visceral reaction as when I saw that picture," he said. "There was just something about her."

He started reading the article and discovered a friend of his was quoted in the piece.

Rob called his friend and got him to arrange to meet Holly over lunch. She nearly declined.

"I went on a blind date once in college, and it was a disaster," Holly said. "I had a boyfriend at the time. This wasn't a real blind date; it was a group lunch, about five of us."

They went to Chinatown, and a case of nerves overcame him. He sat across from her, yet he couldn't make eye contact with her, not even once.

"I'd ask him something, and he'd answer by looking at someone else," she said. "I thought, 'That's odd. Why won't he look at me?' When he did talk, he was so nervous, his voice was shaking."

Rob saw it differently, saying he was trying to be professional and that he "wasn't sure what she'd think of me. It wasn't like there was Facebook back then" as a way to learn about someone.

The day after the lunch, he began emailing Holly ... a lot. Then he began calling her ... a lot. Then he began sending her roses.

"It didn't stop," she said.

Within a few weeks, she and the boyfriend had broken up. Rob became the man in her life. Holly said she watched the way he interacted with people, liked his values and morals and how he was her "biggest cheerleader." They were wed within three years of that first lunch date. They still laugh about how he pursued her.

"I tell people I married my stalker," Holly said.

The couple recently celebrated their ninth wedding anniversary and have identical twins, Ella and Olivia, who will turn 8 in June.

-- Jan Hogan ■