O.K., I'll admit, I'm not a die-hard Patridge Fan, I do watch a show whenever it's on, but I'm not from what has been so tenderly deemed as "The Partridge Era." However, I adore Shirley Jones, and so the Partridges naturally has something to do with her.

On the evening of April 22, 1995, Shirley held a concert in Dubuque, Iowa, and there was no way I was to miss it. I attended (and sang-out loud-with every song) and thoroughly enjoyed myself, even though I had to have been the only minor there (I'm 14). During the show, she would pause and tell a little story. In one of the stories she mentioned where she had been staying-the Holiday Inn across the street. After the show, my mother took me over to the Holiday Inn to see if we could catch her. I was hesitant only because I was beginning to feel nauseous thinking about actually getting to see her. Maybe I was afraid I'd be in such shock I'd faint, I don't know.

Well, she didn't show for about 15 minutes, so Mom decided we'd missed her-but wait! She might still be back at the concert building. The doors were locked, but a photographer let us in. Mom stopped him and asked if he knew if she was still around. He wasn't sure, but said that "If we could find this other lady, we could find Shirley." We trodded back to the Holiday Inn, looked around, and gave up. The man said that he had gotten some good pictures of her, and that he'd be happy to send them to us if he had our address. Just as Mom was writing the zip code, the photographer looked up and stated, in almost a whisper, "Look who's coming." It was Shirley, with outfits in hand and two people escorting her. She was in an obvious hurry, and didn't have time to stop, but she did, and I'm so glad. Not thirty seconds later she was leaving, and I decided that I had to say something, so I blurted out whatever came to mind. "I'll see you at the Oscars in, oh, about twenty years!" I nervously yelled to her. "I hope so!" she replied, and she was gone.

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