News Story in Akron Beacon Journal - Published on Friday, Jan 18, 2008

OLD FLAME BURNS BRIGHTLY FOR 50 YEARS
High school sweethearts have happy homecoming
Former Wadsworth football player finally gets second chance with prom date

By Kim Hone-McMahan - Beacon Journal staff writer

Their hearts were pounding as they rode the escalators at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport. It had been more than half a century since they had last laid eyes on each other.

Vince Doccolo was searching for a lady with a long blonde mane. Pat Zivick shyly eyed the men who passed, searching for one with a head of thick, Italian-black hair.

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Then the only two people remaining on the moving steps were in their mid-70s, one with elegant silver hair, the other without any hair at all.

This is a love story. It began in 1935 when Vince and Pat were kindergartners at Wadsworth's Franklin Elementary School.

She was the tallest girl in the class, he was a handsome tyke. In the class photo, a dozen classmates separated them. And absolutely no one cracked a grin. One little girl in the front row wore a grimace that could have made Spanky and his gang shiver.

Vince and Pat lived a couple of miles apart, so it wasn't until high school, and cars, that the romance blossomed. The former Pat Kent was Wadsworth's first homecoming queen; Vince was on the football team. They dated for two years, even going to the prom together.

When he left for Bowling Green State University, they tried to keep the relationship together, but physical separation sometimes has a way of dissolving love affairs. After six years, they faded from each other's lives, but not their memories.

Pat met and fell in love with Milan Zivick, a terrific man. During their 48 years of marriage, they raised four children. But in 2001, while they were living in Reno, Nev., Milan died from complications of diabetes. Two years later, she returned to her hometown of Wadsworth.

Though she had resided in Hilton Head, S.C., Sydney, Australia, and other spots when she was married, the little town in Medina County was, to Pat, the best place in the world to live. Wadsworth was filled with old pals. It would do her lonely heart good.

She bought a home with a large backyard to accommodate Duke, her golden retriever, and Duchess, a black lab.

Vince wound up in sunny Miami, where he worked for Eastern Airlines as a flight attendant. It was a good life. He had opportunities to visit exotic places. His mother routinely asked him to send her to Italy, and he was happy to oblige. He even had the opportunity to visit the island of Saipan, where his 19-year-old brother, Santo, was killed during World War II.

At 60, he was forced to retire when Eastern went bankrupt. No matter — that gave Vince a chance to continue teaching English and ESL (English as a second language), something he loved to do even when he was employed by the airline. And while he had many girlfriends over the years, they never compared to Pat.

Still smitten by his high school sweetheart, Vince never got hitched.

It was a 2003 Wadsworth High School newsletter that caught Vince's attention. He read that Pat's husband had died, but he thought it was too soon to contact her.

Over the years, Vince had received invitations to attend his class reunions. He always declined. Seeing Pat with another man, he confessed, would have been too painful.

Besides, he knew she was happily married and Vince would never do anything to jeopardize that relationship.

In 2006, some five years after her husband's death, Vince sat down, picked up a pen and, like a nervous schoolboy, wrote her a letter.

''Hello Patricia Ann,

I hope you're still conscious after seeing the return address on the envelope. But I've been thinking about how much fun it would be for me, if we could reminisce a little about things that happened many, many moons ago, especially when you were sweet sixteen . . . Your old flame, Fuzzy.''

In Ohio, Pat reached inside the mailbox. Spotting Vince's letter, she tossed the bills and junk mail into the air and ran inside to call him.

The conversation flowed smoothly, a talk between old friends. They continued to write and phone. Finally, they agreed he would come visit her, and she went to pick him up.

Three times they passed each other on the airport escalators. He made eye contact with her, but she looked away. When the crowd had dispersed and there were only the two of them left, they took a closer look.

Though it had been more than 50 years, Vince was still a handsome 70-something gentleman. And she was a beautiful woman with the same quick sense of humor. They reached out to each other and embraced.

In April 2007, Vince, who is receiving treatment for lung cancer at the Cleveland Clinic, moved in with Pat. Most every day she would bug him about marrying her. He smiled at her nudging. After all those years, he would finally get a chance to lead the woman he had always loved to the altar.

As a surprise, they wed on Jan. 5 in the Rittman home of Pat's brother- and sister-in-law, John and Maxine Zivick. Maxine had also been in that long-ago kindergarten photo; she was the girl who looked as if she wouldn't think twice about slapping the neighborhood bully upside the head.

Once the guests had arrived, the couple, who were hiding behind a closed door, stepped into the room. The music they had selected as their wedding march began to play.
It was a little tune by the Mills Brothers — When You Were Sweet 16.

Kim Hone-McMahan can be reached at 330-996-3742 or kmcmahan@thebeaconjournal.com