Despite some setbacks, still enjoying their romance

Carol and Pete greatly enjoyed their conversation as they wandered around the Rose Tree fair on a May 1990 evening.

She had removed herself from the dating pool to recover from a series of bad romantic endings. Her friend – who was Pete’s coworker – arranged the outing to nudge her out of that cloistered life. Carol was surprised by the spark she felt, then disappointed when Pete did not ask for her number.

“That’s how it goes,” thought Carol, who lived in Chestnut Hill.

Six weeks later, on her lunch break between support groups she ran for the Parkinson’s Disease and Movement Disorders Center, Carol stopped at a Media car dealership to navigate her first-ever solo purchase. “As I was talking to the salesman and trying to make good decisions, up the street came Pete on crutches, and I could not focus on anything else,” she said.

Pete, who was nursing a knee injury, lived nearby. A divorced father of a son and daughter, he had not been interested in a new relationship. Yet he made a beeline for Carol. “I thought she might need my help,” he remembers, and it was a good excuse to talk to her again, he admits.

“Is he with you?” the salesman asked a stunned Carol. “Yes,” Pete replied for her, and then hopped into the passenger seat for the test drive.

Carol got the Volvo. Pete got her number. They dated all summer long. “It was hot – both the dating and the summer,” said Carol.

The two saw many movies, ate a lot of Chinese food, and, once the season started, watched football at Pete’s apartment, where Carol forgot her Eagles hat on a mid-October Sunday. Then Pete disappeared.

“Have you seen Pete?” Carol asked the friend who introduced them. Pete was gone, she learned – working a new job and living with his brother on Cape Cod in Massachusetts.

“I went back into my cloister,” Carol said.

On the Cape, Pete dated a bit, but not enthusiastically. “Carol came into my mind,” he said. “I realized I might have let an opportunity go by.” A year after his disappearance, he called her.

Carol couldn’t believe his nerve. She did not answer that call, nor the next. But one day in November 1991, she picked up the phone before the answering machine did. “I had this whole speech planned in my head, and if I ever talked to him again, he was going to hear it! But when I heard his voice, I couldn’t speak at all.”

The words she found: “I want my Eagles hat.”

“Would you be willing to come and get it?” Pete asked.

“Sure,” said Carol sarcastically. “Send me a train ticket.”

She was shocked when he did.

Pete met her at the door with her Eagles hat in hand. “I had missed her,” he said. “I don’t remember much of what we did, but that was when and where we fell in love,” said Carol.

When Pete visited Carol for his birthday in March, they hiked to the top of Hawk Mountain. In April, Carol spent Easter on Cape Cod. By the end of the month, Pete, who was running support groups for people in substance abuse recovery, persuaded his company to transfer him to Philadelphia. He crammed all of his possessions into Carol’s tiny apartment.

That October at a French cafe in Conshohocken, Pete knelt in front of Carol and asked her to marry him. “The chef and owner saw what was going on, and she was so excited that she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a kiss even before he kissed me,” said Carol.

But Pete got his kiss and a yes.

Carol, who is now 68, and Pete, now 74, married at Assumption Church of the Blessed Virgin Mary on Spring Garden Street on New Year’s Day in 1994 – which was when Carol’s friend, the late Rev. Jack Nevins, was available. The couple and about 20 guests celebrated with dinner at the Towne House in Media. After three nights in Captiva, the two returned to Chestnut Hill. They eventually moved to Plymouth Meeting, where they lived for 15 years.

The couple loves learning and teaching. Pete, a clinical psychologist, has a master’s degree from La Salle University and earned his doctor of psychology from the Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine in 2003. He worked with Psychological Counseling Associates in Collegeville until 2014. Carol, a surgical physician assistant at Fox Chase Cancer Center, holds a Ph.D. in health education from Temple University. She earned her physician assistant master’s degree from Arcadia University in 2004. Both became adjunct professors – he taught various classes on substance abuse at PCOM, and she taught ethics in health care courses at St. Joseph’s University.

They’ve attended many concerts, often something jazzy at the Keswick.

They also love the outdoors. She’s a runner, and he’s always loved cycling – 40 miles or more at a clip. When they moved in together, Pete coaxed Carol onto a bike for the first time since her childhood. They started on the flat Schuylkill River Trail, but as she got stronger, their bikes became their primary vacation transportation in places like the White Mountains of New Hampshire and elsewhere in New England and Upstate New York. They participated in many City to Shore Rides, raising funds for multiple sclerosis research. Their favorite routes follow the winding roads of rural Montgomery County, and, in 2011, they moved to Harleysville. “We loved those rides so much, we thought we might as well live among them,” said Carol. “We had three awesome years of rides.”

“I’m having trouble focusing,” Pete told Carol in 2014. “I’m not reaching my students the way I used to. I think there’s something wrong.”

Carol’s first thought: Getting older happens. But symptoms persisted and grew. In 2014, those symptoms forced Pete to retire. In spring 2015, he received a dual diagnosis: ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease, and frontotemporal disorder, or FTD.

“Being health professionals, we were realistic,” Carol said. “We made the most of our mobility early on.”

They took three trips to Ocean City, N.J. They celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary with a candlelit dinner at the Black Bass Hotel in Lumberville. They took another trek to Hawk Mountain – the same Lehigh Valley sanctuary where they hiked when Pete visited from Cape Cod. He used a travel wheelchair, and Carol pulled him to the lookout.

“She’s an athlete,” Pete said, admiringly. “She’s also the best writer I know. She’s very kind – to me and to everybody. And she has a nice butt.”

“I love his intelligence, and he is such a romantic warrior,” Carol said. “He’s tough – even before this, life never handed him anything. I have all the beautiful cards he’s ever sent me. And when he calls me in the morning, he’ll say, Hey sweets! Hey babe! But the real romance is in his eyes – deep, brown eyes that look right into my heart and soul. He is the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life.”

Pete’s original prognosis was two to three years. Eight years later, he’s still here, and still Pete – smart, funny, and charming.

FTD varies by person, and his has progressed slowly. The ALS has had a larger impact, taking much of his mobility.

In 2019, Pete moved to the Horsham Center for Jewish Life. In addition to center staff, the couple has enjoyed the support of a long list of people. High on that list: Pete’s daughter, Jennifer, son-in-law, Chris, and granddaughter, Hannah; Carol’s sister, Pat; the Jefferson ALS Center; and Stuart, a volunteer who has become a friend.

These days, most of the couple’s dates take place where Pete lives. The center staff has been so good about respecting their alone time, Carol said appreciatively.

Sometimes Pete and Carol watch movies or a TV series. But often, he chooses a concert DVD from his vast collection. Whether it’s Santana, the Allman Brothers, Chicago, or Frankie Valli, “We play the music, and I dance – although not very well,” said Carol.

“She’s a good dancer,” Pete insists. He’s dancing, too, he adds – through Carol.