Not in the form of violent outbursts, but in the occasional scowl or invitation never sent. When she closes her eyes, her husband's soothing voice isn't white or black; it's home. By definition, prejudice is pre-judgment without examination, he says.Therefore, once a person examines a situation and weighs the relevant facts, he or she can make a rational judgment."Not many people will do that, Sara interjects."They have ideas without knowing."The first time Sara touched, or, frankly, said anything to, a black man was at a folk dance at the University of Wisconsin-Madison."We're out of here."An altercation was useless, he reasoned. She didn't arrive until several months later as a club director with the Special Services Division."You're in this life to make yourself happy."In early 1965, Pat was sent to Neubrucke, Germany, at his request. Her first day on the job, the midwesterner with the stylish bob and specs met two sergeants at the service club.The pursuit followed, which Sara details in her book.
To avoid being called to Vietnam, he voluntarily enlisted as a medical records specialist in the Army and was sent to Fort Leavenworth, located about 30 miles from Sara's hometown.But Sara Beth Kurtz, a shy, determined dancer, and Vince "Pat" Collier Aldrich Jr., a medical records specialist who listened to his gut and to the occasional opera, did meet in 1965 in a sleepy German village — courtesy of the United States military.The couple behind that landmark case, Richard and Mildred Loving, are the focus of a new film that's generating Oscar buzz.They might never have met, though they nearly crossed paths several times during their young adult years.Even if they had met then, strident objections against mixing races would've filled the background, contaminating their relationship before it had a chance to blossom.