11 January 2014


From the day I met Dwight Hooker I was enamored. It was easy to fall in love. He held the door for me, insisted on driving and brought me roses.

Dwight pulled up in mustard-colored Range Rover or the silver Subaru XT and parked across the street from our office. He walked in with his usual smile and handed me a rose he picked from the garden each morning.

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On my first day of school in my own classroom with my own sixth grade students at Hillcrest Elementary in Orem, Utah, I was summoned to the office. Thirty-six roses were delivered with a note saying, “one for each lucky student.”


Red roses on my first day of school continued to arrive until I started teaching junior high school. At that point, Dwight would have had to send 180 roses.

But, I think I loved the roses he cut each morning the most. He was careful to find the most fragrant and the most colorful.

He is the first man I remember. He is the one I won’t regret.


About Julie Hooker

I'm a teacher, writer, and editor. In addition, I'm an animal rescuer, yogi, and friend.
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