This story comes from Holly A. Heffelbower of Lincoln, Nebraska.
“When I was a senior in high school, I was chosen to sing in a statewide choir at a national music educators convention. There were several hundred students, so we all had seating assignments. Three charts were posted in different locations. On two of the charts I was placed in one seat, and on the other I was one row and one seat forward. I was confused by this and went to the seat that had been on the two charts, assuming the third was a mistake. Partway through the first day of rehearsals, I heard someone yell, “Heflebower!” I turned around and didn’t see anyone I recognized, but a young blond woman responded to the call. It suddenly dawned on me that I had encountered something I had never encountered before: another Heffelbower. She was named Lee Ann Heflebower, and I was named Holly Ann Heffelbower. No wonder the seating charts had been switched. We got to know each other, dutifully exchanged one Christmas card, and then we lost touch.
Seven or eight years later, I was still living in my hometown, in an apartment building called the Holly. On Valentine’s Day, I came home to check my mail before going to the funeral of one of the members of my church choir. I put my key in the mailbox, and it didn’t work. I looked at the mailbox, and it said “Heflebower,” and I tried the key again. It wouldn’t turn. I looked at the box again, and it still said “Heflebower.” But so did the one to the left of it: “Heffelbower.” I put my key in the other one, got my mail, and rushed off to the funeral. When I got home, I discovered that Lee Ann had moved in across the hall from me. She had just come back to Lincoln from Ohio and had rented the only place she could find that allowed cats. This time we became the best of friends and eventually became roommates. Two years ago, I sang at her wedding.”
