JOPLIN, Mo. — It took more than 40 years, but I finally met Rob and Laura Petrie.

I found them Tuesday morning in their stylish Webb City townhouse they’ve converted from an old movie theater.

Well, I sort of met Rob and Laura. It would be hard to actually meet them, what with them being fictional characters and all. But I met a couple who met the same way Rob and Laura met.

Those of you who, like me, are of a certain age (old) will know that Rob and Laura were characters played by Dick Van Dyke and Mary Tyler Moore in the television classic “The Dick Van Dyke Show.”

Fans of the show will recall that several episodes of the show took place at Camp Crowder in Neosho. According to the storyline, Laura was a dancer with a USO show at Crowder and Rob was a soldier who also was part of the show. The two met, fell in love and the rest was television history.

In the early 1940s, Jane VanHoose was — you guessed it — a dancer with a USO show at Camp Crowder and Bruce Benson was a soldier who played the trumpet in the camp band.

“I walked up to him and asked, ‘Can you play two choruses of “Southern Fried” with a 4-bar intro?’ and he said, ‘I don’t know, let’s talk about it,’” Jane said.

I looked over at Bruce.

“Did you know how to play the song?” I asked.

‘Oh yes,” Bruce said with a grin.

Chats about music became chats about each other and within a few weeks Jane had invited Bruce to her parents’ house for Sunday dinner. Bruce accepted making the bus ride from Camp Crowder to Joplin in his military khakis.

“I stood up the whole trip because I didn’t want to sit and wrinkle my uniform,” Bruce said.

“Because of her parents?” I asked.

“No, because of her,” he said.

Here’s the deal. I could spend several columns writing about Bruce and Jane and their amazing, lifelong romance, but I promised Jane I would talk about her book.

Jane is an accomplished dancer and taught dance in Webb City and Joplin for more than 40 years. To say Jane loves dance is to say that I love cheeseburgers.

For Jane, all dance starts with ballet. While she taught virtually every style of dance, every one of her students had to begin with ballet.

“It’s fundamental,” Jane said.

Jane retired from teaching in the mid-1990s, but her heart was still in her craft. Truth be told, she missed being in the studio. She missed teaching. She missed the chance to influence the lives of young women. Because ultimately, Jane didn’t just teach dance — she taught life. Dance — after all, she says — is life.

Jane began thinking about writing a book. Actually, Jane thought about writing a book years ago, she just never had the time. Well, she has found the time and is now the author of a published book titled — what else? — “Ballet Class.”

The story of “Ballet Class” is much like one of Jane’s dance classes: full of lessons. In the short introduction to the book, Jane says the story is about ballet training, but more importantly it’s about “true friends, damage from harsh remarks, the rewards of kindness, overcoming difficult times and succeeding through determination and perseverance.”

I may have mentioned once or twice in the column that I have a 12-year-old daughter who is very much into dance. Jane’s book is about a 12-year-old girl who is very much into dance. I now have a copy of “Ballet Class,” and you can pick one up too if you attend Jane’s book signing from 1 to 4 p.m. Saturday at the Club House, 115 N. Madison in Webb City. The book will also be available beginning Sept. 27 at Hastings Book, Music and Videos at 526 S. Range Line.

The book costs $15 and a share of the proceeds from the sale will go to Jane’s PEO chapter’s continuing education scholarship fund.

I haven’t finished the book yet, but I’m close. Written for young girls my daughter’s age, it’s really for anyone who has ever taken a dance lesson. It’s for anyone who has thought about taking a dance lesson and it’s for anyone who has a son or a daughter who has taken a dance lesson.

Before I left the Bensons’ home Tuesday, Jane convinced Bruce to drag out his trumpet. He popped in a CD of their son Van playing “Georgia” on the piano and Bruce played along on his trumpet.

While Bruce played, Jane sat in her chair, gracefully tapping her feet and smiling.

It was a neat moment.

A moment that began nearly 60 years ago when, on a stage at Camp Crowder, a bright trumpet player pretended not to know how to play “Southern Fried” so he could talk to a pretty young USO dancer.