PART ONE - STEFAN

I would like to begin by stating that Stefan Browning is the most incredible person on the face of the Earth.

I don't say that simply because he's a handsome and talented movie star. (Although that is incredible.) I say it because he's also the most caring, thoughtful, and compassionate person I've ever had the privilege to meet. He's never failed to be whatever I needed most … joking chum, problem solver, co-committer of shenanigans, matinee idol, crying shoulder. I don't know where I'd be without him and his friendship some days, and I thank whatever Powers That Be for creating him.

This is how I met him ...

I had joined the Air Force straight out of high school in 1989. I was seventeen, and despite having turned down a chance to go to one of the best non-Ivy League universities in the country, I was still very optimistic about my future. I flew down to San Antonio for basic training, where I became a Squad Leader. (One of only three people in my flight to keep their title for the entire time, I might add!) Once basic training was completed, I then took a bus to Wichita Falls for technical training in healthcare administration. I was one of the lucky ones who could choose their job before enlistment, so all that was left for me to do at the end of technical school was list the bases on my "Dream Sheet" that I'd prefer to be assigned to.

I had been born in Baltimore, and raised in the suburbs just outside the Baltimore City line. My entire life had been centered upon America's Midatlantic coast. The furthest west that I'd ever ventured was Texas. But I had dreams of seeing California. (Being an only child on a street with no other children, movies and television were my constant companions. They raised me, and like a dutiful child, I wanted to see where the magic was made.) So I put down the code for Edwards Air Force Base (in California, where the Space Shuttle landed frequently), and kept my fingers crossed.

I didn't have long to wait. One day at formation, travel packets were handed out to some of us, myself included. I opened my envelope with trembling hands.

AFSC HOSPITAL. EDWARDS AFB, CA. Yessss!

I went back home to Maryland for a short visit with my parents before my first (and as luck would have it, only) duty assignment. Then I flew out to Los Angeles, which I knew from the full-color brochure and visitor's information packet was about 90 minutes from the base.

My plane got in after dark. I remember looking out the window during our descent at the thousands (or was it millions?) of glittering street lights below me. The darkness of night made Los Angeles seem like a large piece of black velvet, embroidered with tiny orange and white sequins. The magic is truly here, I thought to myself. I have arrived in Heaven …

My sponsor picked me up at Los Angeles International, and we drove the hour and a half north to the base. He got me settled in a temporary dorm room, and told me that I'd get a permanent room assigned to me in the morning. I was exhausted from the trip, so I fell asleep on the tiny twin bed as soon as my head hit the pillow. I can't remember if I dreamed.

Whether I dreamed that night or not, I was hit with a nightmare in the morning.

Opening the curtains, I got my first glimpse of Edwards. Unlike the photos in the full-color brochure of green manicured lawns, the sparkling base pool and the Space Shuttle, I was met with miles and miles of brown sandy dirt, huge boulders, spiky Joshua trees, and crows that sounded quite a bit like croaking bullfrogs.

Am I in … Hell? I asked myself, silently.

My sponsor came by later, gave me my room assignment and key, and got me settled in. Over the next month, I arranged for my car – a 1984 Dodge Shadow, candy apple red – to be sent out to me. I knew I had to get off the base, and soon, and go somewhere green. I prayed every day that the car carrier would arrive. It seemed like it was going to take forever, but eventually, arrive it surely did.

One of the first times I left base, I drove into the nearest mid-sized city, Lancaster. It reminded me a bit of Baltimore, although on a much smaller scale. But unlike Edwards, it had a multitude of stores and restaurants, and … holy cow, was that a movie theater showing first-run movies? Score!

I checked out the marquee. That weekend, a little movie about monsters had started playing. Children Of The Night. I'd read the book it had been based upon, and I loved it. I bought my ticket, and happily plunked myself down into the cushioned seat with a tub of popcorn.

In the book, the heroine (Laura) ended up with a fellow named Bailey. Since Laura and I had the same name (with the same spelling, even!), nearly the same personality, and the actor playing Bailey was kind-of cute, I thought for sure that I'd end up with a crush on the actor by the time the movie ended. Boy, was I ever wrong.

Almost halfway in, there was a scene in which Bailey ran away to an abandoned town where all the monsters lived. Bailey fell asleep, and while he was sleeping, a few of the monsters crept out of the shadows to look at – and in at least one case, attempt to eat – him.

One of the monsters simply took my breath away.

While most of them were standard monster fare in terms of looks (animalistic or mythical features, odd coloration, physical mutations), one was different. He appeared completely human. And he had the most beautiful big, brown eyes I'd ever seen.

I dropped my popcorn on the floor. My jaw followed after.

I sighed every time he was on the screen. My ears perked up whenever he spoke. His smile could charm the Devil himself. And when that monster was eventually murdered by some of the other characters in the movie, I bawled my eyes out.

I stayed for the credits to find out the actor's name. Stefan Browning. Ahh, Stefan. Even his name sounded magical! (This was not, however, the first time I'd seen Stefan. He had been in two other movies I'd watched and loved, but both times he'd been hidden under a huge mask and a fat suit. Also, he'd had no lines in either film. So prior to this fateful day in Lancaster, I never knew what he looked or sounded like.)

I hightailed it back to base, took out some paper and a pen, and furiously began to write Stefan a fan letter. Then another. And then another. Eventually, I had 5 or 6 of them. All of them told him how wonderful, talented, and handsome he was, and how much I loved his movie. Unfortunately, upon finishing all of these masterpieces of fangirl gushing, I suddenly realized that I didn't have the one thing I needed to get them to him – a mailing address. And since it was 1990 (long before you could Google someone in a millisecond), I quickly realized that all my gushing had been completely in vain. He'd never read any of the letters. Sighing, I threw all of them away in defeat.

Still, I thought to myself, one day I will meet him. I don't know when, I don't know where, and I don't know how … but I will meet him, and tell him how wonderful he is.

A year went by. I read in a magazine that there was going to be a horror movie convention in Los Angeles. I was thrilled. I loved horror movies, after all! I jumped into my Shadow on convention day, stopped at Macy's in the Glendale Galleria to buy my ticket at Ticketmaster, and headed down to L.A. to mix and mingle with my fellow horror movie geeks.

I had never been to a horror movie convention before, and I didn't know what to expect. I certainly didn't know that celebrities attended them to sign autographs, and I was absolutely thrilled when I made the discovery. Because you see, I made it when I saw that the author of the book that little monster movie had been based upon – the one that had officially introduced me to Stefan … sans mask, sans fat suit, and with lines – was seated at a table right in front of me.

Immediately, I found a vendor selling movie posters and bought one from Children Of The Night. I took it to the author's table, and managed to squeak out to him I loved both the story and the film. He was quiet and sweet, like many authors turn out to be. He signed my poster and an 8x10, and thanked me for enjoying his work.

As I left the table, I looked around to see if any of the stars from that monster movie were also in attendance. Sadly, they were not. 26 years would go by before I finally got to meet Stefan.

To Be Continued ...