Peter and Jacqueline Headen's courtship story is one of ups and downs — spanning one war, three countries and four decades. It all started in 1958, at a roller-skating rink on the Indian Head naval base in Maryland.
"I was there one night, and I saw this young lady skating around," Peter says. "And I waited for her to take a break and go get a Coke, before I made my move."
"He just grabbed my hand, rolled me around, and said, 'I'm Peter Headen. Who are you?' " says Jacqueline, who's now 68.
When her first child was born, Pamela Druckerman expected to spend the next several years frantically meeting her daughter's demands. In the U.S., after all, mealtimes, living rooms and sleep schedules typically turn to chaos as soon as a baby arrives. That's the reason one friend of mine used to refer to his child as a "destroying angel."
Last month I fell ill with a wretched cough. The doctor said I would get better with time, but I craved food that would sustain me on my slow plod back to health. My mom was 3,000 miles away, unable to feed me the chicken soup and Saltines of my youth.
But I found a good substitute: The kimchi soup at a restaurant just around the corner from NPR. Even though this soup has a fiery kick unheard of in the Midwestern fare of my childhood, it was simple, bracing and comforting: just the thing to heal the sick.