Here's a little story about why Jake Lees dances...

You Dancin’ Devils

by

Jake Lees

I first took notice of her at small group one night. She was late, so her usual spot at the piano bench was out of reach. Worship had already started, so she grabbed a piece of the floor near me. The Freak was playing his guitar and leading us in singing songs to honor God, so my diverted attention wasn’t cool, but I couldn’t help myself. When Laura started singing, she expressed her devotion so completely that I remember thinking, “Man, I hope my wife will be able to worship God like that.”

A few months later on our first date, Laura took me to a bar to catch a friend of a friend playing with his band. The evening had been smooth, but the moment I offered her my hand, the deal was sealed. You see, she was a dancer, and I enjoyed cutting the occasional rug, so when she grabbed hold, and we went from passive listeners to active participants; well, it was a key moment that advanced our romance. Progress the plot seven years, and we’re still doing our thing. Only now, instead of dancing double-time, we’re doing triple-time, because our toddler, Magnolia, has been groovin’ since the womb.

Dancing is an essential part of our lives, for Laura and I are at our best after a ballroom lesson or the all-too-rare wedding reception. It allows us to focus on each other, gives us a reason to exercise, and opens a space in which we can create. Best of all, our enjoyment of syncopated movement spreads before and beyond us. Laura and I have a common boogie heritage, which includes dancing as youngsters and coming from long lines of dancers. We also look forward to many years of our enjoyment giving others joy as we show off and pass on what we know about dancing.

My earliest memory of loving to dance involves a childhood chore, dusting, which always improved whenever Dad put a record on. As the cushions released clouds of the very thing I was there to conquer, I bounced from couch to recliner and back again, enjoying the music. Besides the living room, another space where I could move to the music in my early years was the local roller rink where I learned the hokey-pokey and the limbo. We’d go Saturday afternoons and skate until dark. While heading back to the car, I always relished the sensation of still being on skates. As a teenager, jamming in my room allowed me the freedom to dance however I wanted without embarrassment and gave me the opportunity to develop my own funky style, but the two places where I loved dancing the most were at wedding receptions and on cruises.

Mom grew up with four elder siblings and they all had at least three children, so I attended the weddings of numerous cousins. There, in the midst of a crowd of people of all ages at their most relaxed and festive, I observed others dance, got inspired, and learned new moves. I paid particular attention to two of my uncles, Larry Allen and Tom Meeks. When they got out on the floor, people made room for them, because those two gave it their all. Larry can twist and shout like nobody I know, and Tom lets his feet do all the talking. We vacation together, so when we’d hit the cruise ship’s dance floor, I had many partners from which to choose. Growing up, there were also square dances, 50’s/60’s nights, a church dance team, and numerous other opportunities to celebrate good times.

Though similar in substance, Laura’s introduction to and development in dance had a different flavor. I’m the rookie, while she’s the professional. At the recommendation of the family physician, Laura took ballet, tap, and jazz lessons as a young girl to help correct minor foot problems. She and her mother will often reminisce about her childhood recitals, and there’s a beloved picture of Laura in a seahorse leotard still on display in her parents’ home. Dance not only fixed Laura’s pigeon toes, it also gave her poise and style that even now astounds me despite years of dancing together.

In high school, Laura and her best friend, Michelle, caught wind of a country line bar called the Triangle and decided it would be amusing to go make fun of all the wannabee cowboys. Well, their plan backfired, for they soon found themselves line-dancing three times a week, changing from mockers to flockers.

But the real blame for Laura’s happy feet lies with her parents. If you ever are in Greeneville, Ohio on a Friday night, get yourself a Maid-Rite and mosey on over to the Moose Lodge or Elk Club. There, among the heads crowned with gray and the occasional blue, you will find Jerry and Terry tearing it up. Now, they don’t last as long as they used to, but ever since they met at a dance hall, they’ve been swinging together for over forty years and still love going out.

I also received the gift of dance from my parents. As a girl, my mother went out dancing at family parties hosted by her Uncle Bill. Someone would throw a record on, and my maternal grandmother would grab Mom, one of her siblings, or really anyone who would slow dance with her to the croonings of Johnny Mathis, Tony Bennett, Dean Martin, Perry Como, or Frank Sinatra. When Mom was in junior high, the first half of lunch would be dedicated to eating, and the second half would be for dancing. As the boys stood around the edges of the room, all the girls would be shaking it to the Beatles, the Every Brothers, Fabian, and Elvis.

Dad was a dancer as well. He’d take Mom square dancing once a week, having met at a square dance in college. Deb’s sister-in-law knew Glenn through FFA and introduced the two of them. He trailed Deb the rest of the evening, and she asked him to drive her home despite the fact her car was parked right outside. Six weeks later, he came to pick her up for a date, and she had climbed up onto the washing machine to get something off an upper shelf. Glenn walked right in and without any lead-up or semblance of a proposal asked her to marry him. After almost falling off the washer, she accepted.

Oddly enough, my paternal grandparents met at a square dance as well. Willis Lees, now deceased, would relate how Virginia never even blinked when he offered her his right hand as they whirled and bowed. You see, in his early years, while cutting wood with a belt-driven saw, Willis lost all four fingers on his right hand. The doctors sewed the wound closed, and Willis’ hand healed with full use of his thumb. Regardless of the fact that he worked just as hard as ever, Willis had to deal with others treating him as a cripple, including his own father, so when Virginia didn’t hesitate to hold onto his maimed hand, Willis knew she was someone special. Grandma and Grandpa’s first dance led to over 60 years of marriage.

As you can see, the love of dancing was entrusted to Laura and I by our families and friends, and we’ve continued to express ourselves faithfully through it. Often the two of us will be at a soiree, having a good time moving across the floor, and a complete stranger will come up to tell us how much fun it is to watch us dancing. It doesn’t matter whether it’s at Oktoberfest, a Seabird concert, an 80’s night, a singles’ event, or with a big band filling the air with jazz, while we’re putting smiles on our faces, someone else ends up with one on their own.

Due to the infrequent nature of wedding invitations, cruises, and parents of a one-year-old staying out late, the times this married couple made a scene on the dance floor were dwindling away, so instead of losing a vital part of our relationship, we began to take ballroom lessons. It started out innocently enough. A certificate for two lessons was placed in the wife’s stocking, but what kept happening was we kept going. I was finally moving my feet in such a way that Laura could follow me around the dance floor. I was no longer improvising frustration for her. For the first time, we were moving together as one. Where before we could dance a facade of a jitterbug, now we can do the hustle, rumba, waltz, swing, cha-cha, and tango. Our dance shoes are sitting at home ready to go, and perhaps by the time you read this, we’ll have taken part in our first competition. Much has transpired since that night I first took notice of Laura, and considering all that contributed to putting rhythm in our souls, even more is in store for us as we promenade through life together. We are dancers; watch us strut!