[thenightwriterblog] The Night Writer: 50 years on a dare

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Posted by The Night Writer:
50 years on a dare
http://thenightwriterblog.powerblogs.com/posts/1167538953.shtml


   They had known each other of course, the basketball player and the
   cheerleader at the small high school, but neither really liked the
   other all that much. She was smart, talented, headed for college and,
   truth be told, probably a bit stuck on herself. He was coarse and
   gangly with a quick temper shaped perhaps by being the youngest of
   four brothers, and from a family that sent its sons to the Air Force,
   not college. Their first date was more of a dare than a launching pad
   for romance.
   Some tender shoot must have inviegled its way through such unpromising
   soil and gained a toe-hold, however. They finished high school in 1954
   and became engaged, but set off on separate paths. She was off to
   Drury College in Springfield and he followed his brothers into the
   service, winding up in Germany. Her father wanted her to finish
   college; his Uncle Sam wanted him to spend 3 years near the Black
   Forest. Three years! Ah, but if you were a married man the Air Force
   would only keep you overseas for 18 months, and if you were an only
   daughter you knew the right combination of foot-stamping and soulful
   appeals to bend your father's will. Rules and regulations met with
   hopes and aspirations and both paternal blessing and a 30-day leave
   were granted, and a late December wedding date was set.
   The cold, waning days of the year are not a traditional time for
   weddings which more typically occur in the hopeful and promising days
   of spring, and other portents attending the event were ominous: the
   flower girl got stage fright at the back of the church and collapsed,
   crying, in the aisle, refusing to go forward; the ring-bearer wore a
   gaudy white patch over one eye as a result of a youthful accident
   immediately after the previous day's rehearsal; the punch bowl was
   borrowed from a recently married woman who's husband would later beat
   her half to death; and the pastor who married them would run off with
   another woman a week after performing their ceremony. Following the
   wedding they had to drive 90 miles through a blizzard to the swanky
   Case Hotel in St. Louis for their honeymoon (a gift from her parents),
   only to find the hotel on fire when they arrived.
   Fortunately they were able to check into their room, and after the
   weekend it was back to spend a week with his parents and then a week
   in Indianapolis with hers before he had to board the bus for the
   two-day trip to New York and a flight back to Germany. Every time the
   bus stopped he had to fight the urge to get off and hitch-hike back to
   her, even if it meant going AWOL. It wouldn't have been hard to do; in
   those days soldiers in uniform had little trouble hitching rides, but
   since the uniform represented the only clothes he owned he knew it was
   a very short-sighted strategy. He finished his time in Germany, now
   reduced to just seven more months as a result of his new status;
   returned to the states in July and together they conceived a son in
   August.
   It would be nice to say that they used up all their hard luck just in
   getting through the wedding and early days, but nothing is that easy.
   She quit school and they put ten years and a lot of miles into the Air
   Force, living in base housing or whatever they could afford as two
   more kids came along. Real life was a lot harder than perhaps they
   expected and the knot at the end of their rope could get a bit frayed
   at times. They both had health issues and the kids had their own array
   of problems; one son walked funny and didn't appear to hear well;
   another son seemed to require stitches for something every other week;
   the daughter seemed to be allergic to everything and would often swell
   up, or come down with Scarlet Fever. There seemed to be an awful lot
   of tomato-green bean casseroles for dinner. Just when the knot would
   seem about to give-way, though, there would be a timely visit from
   family or some stroke of fortune or fate to get them through. Later
   they would launch and sell a couple of businesses, she would go back
   to college for her degree and become an elementary school teacher and
   eventually a principal while earning Masters and Doctorate degrees.
   The years came and went, as did the challenges and saving graces. That
   tender little shoot from their youth somehow grew into a strong, thick
   root -- a bit gnarled and twisted, but all the harder to pry out of
   the ground for all that. They argued some, but hugged more and were
   absolutely resolute and united in trying to do the best they could for
   their children, even if the children didn't always want to cooperate.
   Last Friday evening they stood in the same church where they were
   married 50 years earlier, posing for a succession of photos with
   children, grandchildren and relatives. They certainly knew everything
   that had gone into getting there, even if they were a bit at a loss to
   explain it.
   "50 years ago all I had was a 1950 Mercury and my good looks," he said
   with some wonder, "and now I don't have that Mercury." When she was
   asked for the secret she tried to give a short explanation for a long
   answer that is still being computed. "You just take it one day at a
   time, and sometimes, 15 minutes at a time."
   Happy 50th anniversary, Mom and Dad, and may there be many more!