Keya Dannenbaum

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Transcript below:

This is the story of a bridge, a note, and a great love. And though I may get tearful in its telling, I'll assure you now that nobody jumps. We're headed for a happy ending.

Our story begins with a boy, we'll call him Tom, and a girl, we'll call her Keya. As politically active Stanford undergrads, they could be found studying by day, debating by late-night, and generally rallying around a theme of make love, not war.

They first met while studying off-campus in Washington, DC. Instantly inseparable, they could be found interning by day, taking classes by night, and, after finding each other, living up to that same theme of make love, not war.

Their happy union was brief, however, and they were soon separated by an ocean as they pursued summer internships on separate continents, a distance remedied only by long, and expensive hours on the phone.

During which they talked mostly about nothing, a bit about that year's World Cup, and repeatedly about the fact that Tom had never seen the Golden Gate bridge. They decided it would be their first destination when reunited.

When that anticipated day finally arrived Keya decided it would literally be their first destination. So, driving a red convertible, under a warm sun and a cool breeze, they made their way from the airport up the 101.

The bridge that day, as if expecting them, was in rare form, hugged spectacularly with a thick fog that crested like surf, rolling up from behind the hills, dissipating softly as it hit the bay. It was entrancing.

And after taking it all in, they took a short hike into the headlands, just as the sun was setting. And the air, thick with fog, was now amplifying the dying light, and they were enveloped in shocking shades of orange, then magenta, then violet.

And just as the color faded into night, Tom pulled Keya in close, and leaned over to her ear, and said to her then, as he has on so many occasions since: I'm bloody hungry darling, did you bring snacks?

And she hadn't. But she had made a dinner reservation, so they headed to Sausalito, where they lucked out with a table by the window and all they could see was the San Francisco skyline, a rising moon over the bay, and each other.

And over the course this dinner they talked incessantly and ate and stole kisses. When time came for dessert Keya chose the chocolate cake and Tom got the swordfish. And eventually they emerged from their oblivion and looked around and realized they were the only ones left.

They had outlasted even their first waiter's shift so they asked their second waiter, Ray, for the check. But Ray just stood there awkwardly. And finally said: this couple behind you (and they turned to look but of course there was no longer anyone there), this couple, said Ray, well, they thought you were nice. And they left you this. And he handed over the leather folder in which the bill usually arrives.

Inside was a note. And it read:

Dear Lovers,

Much love

And it was left unsigned.

To connect some obvious dots here -- I am Keya, this tall british guy up front is Tom, the story of the bridge and the note turns 10 years old this year, we are still together and, in fact, now married. But...

Though we are the protagonists, it is the invisible couple who are this story's leading man and lady. That night, a decade ago, Tom and I could never have known their words were prophetic.

We had faced no trials, knew nothing of each other's flaws, had not withstood the tests that come only with time. What ignited that night was the expression of love by two nameless individuals.

So brimming with it they could not help but share, and so comfortable in it they could make an unforgettable gesture with ease, simplicity, and anonymous grace.

You see, the great love central to this story about which I promised I would tell was not ours. It was theirs.

The above story was told at Ignite Philly on February 16, 2012. Keya Dannenbaum is the founder at ElectNext.com, a political matching website that works like "eHarmony" for elections -- connecting you to your candidates based on what you believe, so you can vote your values all the way down your ballot. She loves: democracy, Philadelphia, and Tom....

It's that time of year again. Everyone's looking around for love. No one more so than this year's Republican primary voters.



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