I decided upon Lazienki Park (pronounced "washenki", which is the Polish word for bathroom or bathhouse) as the perfect place to get engaged. Of course, the number of attractive places to do this sort of thing in Warsaw is rather limited. Here's how it happened:

The view from where we were engaged.

I spent about 5 months looking for rings in Poland, and when I had just about given up, a friend suggested to me importing a stone and having a ring hand-crafted. I spoke with the jeweler briefly about what I wanted, and on my way home from his shop stumbled across an antique shop which sold some old jewelry. The rings weren't bad, but nothing jumped out at me. The store owner thanked me for looking, handed me some information, and I left.

A few days later, having already arranged for my father to bring a cut diamond to Poland with him in a month, I noticed that the antique store brochure listed a second store closer to our home. One day I decided to just take a brief look there, when I discovered THE RING. I can't really describe why it was the ring, but it really felt like the right one. After the usual pleasantries, I discovered that the ring was 100 years old and Russian, having most likely belonged to a rich family killed and looted during the Russian Revolution (the proof of this is the bottom of the ring, which is stamped with the Communist hammer and sickle like most luxury items confiscated by Big Brother after the Revolution). Since Tania is half Russian, I decided I had to have it that day, and negotiated the price down little.

Anyone who knows me well knows I could NEVER keep a secret like this for very long, so approximately 3 hours after I bought the ring I made up some stupid reason to go to Lazienki Park and suggested to Tania that she come with me.

"No thanks, I don't feel well." she said. "Besides - it is too cold."

Further complicating things was the fact that our friend Glenn Surabian, a good guy but the LAST person you want around you when you get engaged, was staying with us. I finally convinced Tania to join me, and Glenn to get lost. We arrived, walked about a bit, and settled in the outdoor amphitheater overlooking the lake and palace. It was beautiful weather (though a little chilly), and the usual flocks of ducks and peacocks were loudly squawking and feeding as usual.

I started to say something romantic, when all the sudden a drunk got up in front of us (exactly where he had been lying before this I had no clue), and decided to do his best and loudest impression of a duck squawking. That moment finally passed, and I began again.

This time, I was able to get through the romantic thing and began to ask Tania to marry me when - again out of nowhere - 25 eight-year-olds on a school trip poured out of the entrance behind us, all screaming. I was too far into the proposal to stop, so I continued, albeit somewhat louder. I pulled out the ring, asked her to marry me, she smiled, cried a little and said "Of Course!".

For legal reasons, I then made her say "Yes", as "Of Course" can be interpreted loosely.

When I went to put the ring on her finger, we realized the woman who owned this in Russia must have been either 800 pounds or had deformed gigantic hands - the ring fit loosely on Tania's thumb! It looked like a bracelet. That didn't matter at the time, however! What did was that on June 13, 1996, John & Tania finally got engaged.

In September, Tania brought the ring to Boston to be appraised, where we discovered it was 50 years older than the earlier estimate and significantly more valuable than the price I had paid! To me, the perfect ring suddenly became our most liquid asset.

"SELL!!!" I suggested. "After all, why do we want a dusty old ring from some gigantic sloppy dead Russian woman? You deserve a better ring!!!"

It didn't work.........

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