Took some doing, but I finally located a picture of Billy Boyd. (no not that Billy Boyd). He was perennially the silver medalist throughout his skating career. Not for lack of trying, it was just a very competitive time, and he did represent the US 4-5 times at the world championships. He was good, and he was cute too. He’s the one on the left on this podium shot from nationals 1973.

One summer when I was 17 at the nationals, he finally noticed me on the last day, literally at the last minute. I was packing up my stuff from my hotel room, and my dad had the motor revving up waiting to take off across the country. Billy came to my room and hemmed and hawed around for a few minutes, then he kissed me! Holy crap! I almost fainted. I’d been admiring him for three years from afar (really far, as I lived in CA and he lived in Indiana). We got in a few more good smooches until Dad started honking the horn. I gave him my address and hoped he’d write. He didn’t. I knew he had a girlfriend, and she was probably why he didn’t talk to me until the end of the competition, and why he never wrote.

I saw him again two years later at another nationals (my last) but by then we were both already “spoken for”, and life goes on.