Our love story started over 40 years ago. Deborah and I met in May 1985 in Brunswick, GA. I was working at a car dealership when I saw my future wife walking down Gloucester Street. She stepped into a neighborhood pharmacy store, and I kept looking across the street, waiting for her to come out so I could make my move.

When she finally came out of the store, I borrowed one of the company vehicles to go around the block to head her off. She was absolutely stunning. I said, “Hello ma’am, I’m Hubert. You are so pretty.” May I have your phone number? She paused for a long time, thinking I was a white man. After I showed her my driver’s license, which listed me as ‘black’, and still not completely convinced, she reluctantly gave me those digits. Not the average— I knew I had to apply some pressure.

I called her as soon as I got off work. We talked for hours on the phone. On Mother’s Day, I invited her to church and to meet my mother. I had to move quickly. The following day, she invited me over for dinner. When I arrived at her home, she informed me that I couldn’t come inside the house and we had to eat on the screened-in porch. She cooked for me the best food I ever had—fried fish, shrimp, french fries, and Red Kool-Aid.

The following week, we went out to eat at Western Sizzler. After dinner, she slipped me $50 under the table to cover the bill—now that’s a keeper.

I knew from day one that Deborah was the perfect one for me. We were locked in. I asked her to marry me, and she said ‘yes’. Four months later, on September 11, 1985, we got married at the Glynn County courthouse— and forty years later, we are stronger than EVER.