50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #18

The Rescue

This time I am just repeating a memory that I already wrote about in a post on December 13, 2009.

My husband, George, has his own cleaning business. He is fortunate to have commercial accounts that he cleans when they are closed, so he doesn't have to be there at a specific time, but he does have to have them cleaned by or on a particular day depending on the account.

Now I don't memorize his schedule. I basically know the names of his accounts, but I get confused as to where he is at what time. It's a "not need to know" as I only care as to what time he will be coming home so to know what time dinner will be. It varies every day, but I have an approximate idea. On his latest night, Friday, he gives me a call when he's twenty minutes away so I can have dinner ready. It's usually 7 pm but has been 8 pm if he decides to work on another account to free up some of the Saturday work, or once in a while he runs to Home Depot to pick up something or he may stop at the rental units. There are a number of reasons why he could be running late.

This past Friday, we had spoken earlier in the day, and I truly believed he'd be home before 7 pm, but I wasn't sure. When he wasn't I did try calling his cell but I just got his voice mail. I had prepared one of his favorite meals and had taken a chance and cooked it and was trying to keep it warm. By 8 pm I was wondering where he was but thought he wouldn't mind if I'd eat without him. I did and turned off the food figuring he'd have to reheat it in the microwave at this point. I was a little annoyed that he didn't have the courtesy to call to say he was going to be this late. Maybe he stopped at a fast-food place and wouldn't even need dinner. That happens on a rare occasion.

Well, as the minutes go by, I was starting to get nervous. I did try calling several times more and no answer. He doesn't always keep his phone on or handy. At 9 pm I decide it's time to take action and track him down. One more call, no answer and I knew I had to go look for him. Okay, where should I look? I thought I knew which account he'd be at, but if he had a problem at the earlier account, he could be there. I had to go through his files to find the addresses, and I am not sure if I could have found one place. I've been before but didn't pay attention to exactly where it's located and it is on a back road.

All the horrible thoughts passed through my mind--a heart attack or he'd fallen and broken something and couldn't move and had left his cell phone in the car (which he sometimes does), his car could have broken down and he could be freezing, or as someone worded it, "He pulled a Tiger Woods"--well it was a fleeting thought because I personally know someone who went through that ordeal recently, but just fleeting. I was mostly worried. Of course, your mind goes to the worst and I imagined being a widow and then silly mind, people would come to my house, and it was a mess. Well, I couldn't tidy now, I had to save him--if he needed saving.

It was a freezing night, and I was shaking from the cold and my nerves. As I drove in the night, I tried to see the vehicles going past me in the opposite direction to see if he was heading home. I knew the shape of his car but was trying to remember the license number as those reflected in the dark. None of the numbers looked familiar and none of the shapes. It was about twenty minutes before I got to the first account I was going to try. There was his car!

I looked in the windows and saw his coat but not him. The doors were locked and I knocked and yelled. These are heavy duty windows and doors and a big building, so it was not likely he would hear that. I walked all around ad looked in as many windows as I could in the hard crusty snow. I tried all the doors and banged on them. Then I pulled my car right up to the door and honked and honked hoping he would hear and come. I did all this before calling 911 because I was afraid if he was just cleaning that the police would fine me or reprimand me for calling when there wasn't an emergency. The police station was only a few miles away and I thought about driving to ask them but I called 911.

They were there in less than five minutes without sirens. They proceeded to ask me if he had any medical issues and I told them but I also told them that I thought there had been issues with the elevator in the building. They pounded on the door and yelled. They walked around. The fire department was supposed to send someone too and they found an employee of the company who would come with a key but before the others arrived, the police were able to get through a window.

As soon as the cop went in he yelled George's name and he heard the elevator buzzer. He was stuck in the elevator--for four hours! Soon a fireman came and the employee. There were instructions in an office with a key to some panel that enabled them to free up the elevator stuck between floors.

It was a happy ending. I should have George write a separate blog of his end of the story--cell phones don't work in elevators, there was a spot for emergency call box, but no phone, the emergency buzzer does not go to police station but just in the building which does no good when it's vacant, or he thought maybe if he didn't just push it but tried to spell out Morse Code. He had no fears of a major blackout or end of the world (as my mind would surely have gone) because he had a light in the elevator and he could hear the furnace kick on but he did start getting cold as he had been working in a t-shirt. He was using the elevator to move his cleaning equipment and garbage barrel. He tried to wrap garbage bags around him for warmth. He figured the worst-case scenario would be that he would be there until 9 am the next morning, so he tried to turn his paper towels into a pillow. There is no way to get comfy in an elevator. He actually had a book on him, thank God, and was able to pass some time reading, but he was hungry too.

George and the police tried to make me a hero. Who wouldn't go out looking for their husband/wife in that case? I feel in no way a hero. I told him that if he ever did "pull a Tiger Woods" that I would hunt him down! He said, "sure and where would you look first?" I said I'd call up his boss and find out all the names of his elderly dial-a-ride customers. We laughed.

Two people from the business did call the next day to check as to how he was doing (he said maybe they are worried about a law suit--which crossed his mind), but I do hope that they do something special for him. He is not quitting this account, but he has figured out that he can put the vacuum and trash barrel in the elevator and let them ride by themselves while he takes the stairs--not pleasing to his arthritis, but I'm sure he will never take that elevator again. Surprisingly, it has not soured him to elevators in general, as I'm sure it would for me, but then again, how often are we in buildings with no one else in it?

As Shakespeare said, "All's well that ends well."

"I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire.."

Psalm 40:1-2

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #17

The Blizzard of '78

For those of us that lived through the Blizzard of '78, it's one of those, "where were you?" moments. What made it worst was that the weathermen did not prepare us enough. Seems they didn't see it coming themselves. Too many people were left stranded on the roads trying to get home. Some died of carbon monoxide poisoning stranded in their cars. Some people were stuck at their workplaces, some children were stuck at school for two nights. I've read accounts of people taking shelter in a movie theater off the highway eating popcorn. For you younger folk who don't know what I'm talking about, here is a pretty good article: Remembering the 1978 Blizzard - New England Historical Society

The snow started on February 6 in the morning and fell for 33 straight hours with wind gusts and drifting snow. The snow, they say at times falling 4 inches an hour, accumulated to up to 2 feet, however we lived in Norfolk, CT aka the icebox of CT known to get more snow than most of the state. Some records say we received 30"-36" and that doesn't include the drifting. I had to look up these facts to refresh my memory.

Our story of the Blizzard of '78: George was working in Hartford. I worked in Bloomfield and carpooled with another woman from Norfolk. Remember this was before cell phones. I'm trying to remember and decipher the timing. We must have left work before the usual 4 pm. The normal ride home was an hour. According to my AI, as my memory is eluding me, it probably took 2-3 hours to get to Winsted. 

When we reached Winsted between 6-7 pm in the dark, we decided to go to the Subway grinder shop, which was open, to see if we could call our husbands and to take a break from the intense ride. We had no clue if they were home or stranded somewhere. We went in and moments later, in walks George. If you see the pictures of the roads and the fact that we were coming from different places, you can see just how miraculous this was. What a God wink!

George had his car, so after recouping for a moment, we decided to try and make it home the last ten miles. It was rough, but we made it. Obviously, we couldn't drive up our 450-foot-long uphill driveway, so we trudged up it on foot.  I am sure I was never so happy to be home and with George. We could have been stranded anywhere.

I don't recall losing our power for the two days that we were stranded home. I really don't remember anything more. I just remember how grateful we were that God led us to each other and got us safely home through the worst winter storm that we have ever experienced. 

"In their hearts, humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps." 

Proverbs 16:9

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #16

Being There

Being there sometimes means work. When you have your own business, you often need help.

When we lived up in Norfolk, George had a newspaper delivery route. It was the Winsted Evening Citizen, so delivery was in the afternoon. I don't know if he started the route with a standard shift but he had a three shift on the column and 2nd shift didn't work. He needed my help to sit in the backseat and stuff the newspapers in the boxes. 

The most memorable day of delivering newspapers was August 16, 1982. We had made one stop along the route to grab a candy bar at the store and got home about 6 pm to get dinner. As soon as I got out of the car, nine months pregnant, my water broke. So, off we went to the hospital. I wasn't allowed to eat of course, so I was thankful I had had that Snickers bar. Ben was born the next morning at 4:45 am. The subs George had trained and lined up for when I went to the hospital bailed on us, so George had to do the route alone and I felt pretty alone that 2nd time having a baby because no one else came to visit.

Later George also had a morning newspaper delivery (different car). He would leave in the wee hours of the morning. I stayed with the kids, but on Saturdays I helped him get the Sunday inserts ready. They often gave extra and I enjoyed the benefits of extra coupons--something I was seriously into in those days. 

One of George's first business ventures was a trash collection business. This was before the big trash trucks were making routes in the small towns. He took over another's route and every Saturday would pick up trash and load it into his pick up truck and then unload it off the bed at the landfill. We actually benefitted from "one person's trash...." We got an outdoor patio set, TV and other things other people were done with but we happily adopted. 

On Saturday mornings, I worked at the Post Office. When my shift was over, he would swing by and pick me up and I'd help him finish the route. 

I mentioned all the other business ventures we tried in a previous post. We were co-partners in all of those. 

When he ran for office, I helped campaign door to door. One memory from that was knocking at a screen door and a dog came running from inside and jumped at the door and it crashed down on me. How I kept my balance, I don't know. 

Then there were times with George's cleaning business that I needed to help him complete some jobs. He did get to a point when he hired some employees, but if they call in sick, you have to do it and you can never call in sick. The worst was when everyone else gets a few days off, George didn't get any days off when his mother died. He was a hard worker.

The other occupation we kind of shared, was being landlords. I really felt it was his job, but there were many times we had to work together, especially when tenants abandoned the apartment and left some unbelievable messes. 

So, even though I don't remember it in our vows, we were there for each other in work.

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: if either of them falls down, one can help the other up."

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #15

Being There

The next few posts will center on being there for one another. 

Our family tries to support one another in good times and bad times. From our kids' sports games, plays, ceremonies, graduations to being in the pet parade or getting them to scouts or Awanas or whatever. We were always there cheering them on, supporting them, maybe making a costume or helping remember lines or Bible verses. We cannot count the times we were "there". Even as they became adults, we can still say we have been and will be "there".

We have been there for grandkids too as our new descendants have increased. It is harder the older we get, but I try to live doing what I can do, while I still can do it. I know it blesses me just as much as it blesses them.

When my Dad was in the senior talent shows, we were there to cheer him on. 

We were there when our parents needed help. When George's mother was nearing the end of her life, we had her live with us for a short while. We gave up our bed for her. George slept on the living room couch, and I slept on the floor in a sleeping bag in Tiffany's room. When my Mom was in the hospital at the end of her life, I went to visit her every single day for a month. We saw my Dad through so many hospital and nursing home stays and did what we could for him. When our parents were living, we were sure to make sure they were not alone on holidays. We tried to always think of them, and I still do every day even though they are not with us on earth. 

We have also tried to be there for others outside of the family. Over the years we hope many others have felt blessed by our actions. 

George and I have been there for each other through the losses of loved ones, troubling times, in sickness and hardships, but we have also been there in the good times--throwing each other special birthday parties and celebrating in special moments. 

I have attended several Veteran programs to honor George's military service. from special CT awards and Vietnam awards, visiting the wall together, and I spoke when he received the local Veteran of the Month award. As you can see from the photos, our family was there for him too. 

George has been there for me when I was sworn in as postmaster 

when we had a special "Heartland" stamp unveiling and other postal milestones, including retirement.

He was supportive and helpful in the publishing of my book. When I had the book launch, family also showed up for support. 

I know there were many more times I could mention. We've lived through a lot in 50 years. In good times and bad, we have been there for each other.

"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing."

I Thessalonians 5:11

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #14

The Pets

The problem with this blog anniversary memories in 50 days is that I forgot how long it would take to find the pictures for each one. I may have to go back and add pictures to a lot of them later. 

I debated on writing this one, but our furry family members were a part of our journey. Memories are bittersweet because our little ones have all passed away and several had tragic outcomes. 

Our first furry friend was a foster child...when George's mom moved into senior housing, she couldn't have pets so we took in Charley. She was a small black terrier dog. I don't remember how long she lived with us. I have one funny memory (well for us) of her. When George's mother lived in her house, George always went in and immediately Charley would jump on the couch and let George wrestle with her. It was a habit. Well, we all know habits are hard to break. One time the couch got moved and when George walked in, Charley jumped to where the couch had been and hit the wall. She was ok but boy did we laugh about that. 

I used to take her for rides in the car and twice she gave me quite the scares. Tiffany was a baby both times and the first time I had to pull over into the reservoir parking lot and do something with Tiffany. I got back in the car and drove a couple of miles when I realized Charley was not in the car! I panicked. This was my mother-in-law's baby. I couldn't be responsible for losing her. My mind flashed to someone picking her up or her getting hit by a car. I sped back using my flashers to let people know I was intentionally speeding. When I got to the parking lot, Charley was pacing back and forth not knowing what to do. What a relief!

The other time was in Riverton and I don't remember the exact sequence of events but somehow Charley had jumped up to the window when I was outside of the car and she had pushed down the lock button on the car. Tiffany and Charley were locked in the car! Real panic set in!

Fortunately for me, a kind man came by, went to his nearby home and got a coat hanger and was able to unlock the door--a "hack" that we had heard about and with the window open a crack, it worked. 

Charley died on a Good Friday, my parents beloved Sir Lancelot, who I lived with for many years, died on Easter at different year. It is so hard to lose pets.

We decided to wait until we had a house, and the kids were older to let them have pets. Every stupid year the teachers seemed to have the kids write about pets and we always got bugged to get pets. It was a conspiracy. Ben wanted a dog and Tiffany wanted a cat. So, we adopted Patches, a black and white springer terrier mix and Lacy, an adorable black bundle of fir. 

Patches, born on January 8th, Elvis's birthday, was our "hound dog". He gave us all the unconditional love a dog gives. He lived with us thirteen years. I am going to do brief memories of all because I still miss them and will get sentimental.

Lacy was born to a barn cat and the mother didn't have all her vaccinations. Lacy, therefore, had feline leukemia and only lived about 6 or 9 months from when we got her. That was so devastating that Tiffany was hesitant for us to get another cat. 

This time we decided to get two brothers to keep each other company. They were tiger cats who we named Dickens and Linus. They sure lived up to their names. We kept our cats as indoor kitties to keep them from the dangers of living outside and to hopefully give them long lives. Well, Dickens was a Dickens and always found ways to escape to outside. I couldn't understand one day how I kept putting him in the house and then I realized he was outside again. He had found a screen window which didn't latch properly below. 

Linus ended up being our little lion-hearted kitten. It turns out he was born with a bad heart and he died only a few months later. When we knew he wasn't well, we decided to get another cat to keep Dickens company when he was gone.

So, we got our gray striped Joshua. He was named that by the cat foster lady and we kept it because he meowed a lot like Joshua of Jericho making noise around the city.

Dickens developed intestinal problems and after several hundreds of dollars that were only going to mount up to more that we couldn't afford, well, you know what we had to do--a heart wrenching memory that I didn't really want to bring up, but it was part of our lives. 

So, we were left with Joshua and Patches. Joshua stayed with us 17 years. I loved that little kitty and I would love another one so much but I do not want to go through the pain and heartbreak of losing another pet. Plus, at this point in our lives, they may outlive us and empathetic me thinks about how they would feel for the loss. I think way too far ahead. Plus I always felt guilty whenever I left them home alone. For my mental well-being, I am better off without a pet, but I am grateful for the time with our beloved. pets.

 "A righteous man cares for the needs of his animal, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel." 

Proverbs 12:10

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #13

The Drive-In

I grew up with drive-ins being a big part of our family. My parents went to the drive-ins almost every weekend. Even in the winter, drive-ins had these tiny little heaters you could use--they didn't work very well, but the diehard fans stuck it out. We even had a hooded canopy type thing that attached to the windshield to (try to) keep the rain off the windshield--neither rain, nor sleet...

I think the Pleasant Valley Drive-in was the only drive-in that George and I went to. I had gone since I was a kid when it was called Roger's Corner Drive-in. We have always been proud to have one of the few drive-ins left in our town. It makes me so sad that it has not re-opened from a couple of years ago. 

We took our kids here on warm summer nights. The drive-in was near the river and the mosquitos were sometimes a problem. We still laugh about the mosquito in the Pic commercial. If you remember it, you'll smile and remember the high squeaky voice of the mosquito, "See what I mean? Bye!"

They always started the movie there with the National Anthem. As proud Americans we appreciated that however, their recording was old and garbled and we still joke to this day, "And now the nan'l anam". If either of us said those two garbled words, we would know what the other was referring too.

If you've never been to a drive-in movie, I'm sorry. We are grateful for the fond memories we have of something that is now fading into history. I am sure hoping for a revival for future families. I'm glad I found a couple of old photos. 

For those who don't know, there were rows of little hills made for the cars to park on to be a little higher. I remember the old speakers on the poles that you hung from your car window and turned up the volume on the tiny knob. Years later they changed so you could use your car radio as a speaker. One late night for our poor daughter, this drained the battery on her car and we had to go rescue her. 

Some drive-ins had a swing set below the screen to play on before the movie or this was a safe spot for kids to play ball or running games before the movie began. Of course, there was the refreshment stand with candies, ice cream, french fries, hamburgers, hot dogs and of course, soda. You could also buy a Pic coil to burn on your dashboard in hopes of scaring away the mosquitos. I will admit that sometimes we brought our own popcorn to save money. Sometimes we brought folding chairs or blankets to sit on in front of the car. What was not to like about a warm summer night eating fun food under the stars and enjoying a movie with your family?

Other than the car battery running down, the only issues were a few pesky mosquitos or maybe a tall vehicle parking in front of you (which rarely happened--they were sent to the back rows), drive-in movies leave us with great memories of good times. 

 "So I commend the enjoyment of life, because nothing is better for a person under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad." 

Ecclesiastes 8:15

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #12

Church

Both George and I were sent to Sunday School when we were young. There was never a point of not believing in God for us. Although we had stopped attended church as teenagers, when we were getting married, we had to decide on which church to have the ceremony. We chose the Norfolk Congregational Church and continued attending after we were married. We went for a number of years and became sextons there. 

Our religious journey took us to several churches in our 49 years. We discovered we were Baptists at heart. That's where our beliefs fit the most. We were, therefore, baptized as adults in believer's baptism and our kids made that decision when they were teenagers. 

In our years of attending churches, we have served as Sunday School superintendent, secretary, Awana leaders, Sunday School teachers, written skits, acted in skits, coordinated a meal ministry, organized a church library, were nursery workers and coordinators for the welcome team. George went for a week in NY to help with the building of a church. He also helped building a local church. Together George and I wrote, typed and printed a several page monthly newsletter. I am sure I am leaving out other volunteer activities we did at the churches. 

We did after a while decide we needed a break from serving and we just wanted to sit back. There was a year when we decided to change churches, and I joked to George and said, "Let's just go to a different church every week". Ugh. He took me up on it! So, for a year we went to 50 different churches of different denominations. It was eye opening. We narrowed it down to three churches and revisited them. We decided on one and after a few months went back to a different of the three and we have been there for 12 years--the longest we have ever been to a church. Eight years was our usual max. We don't passively attend, but religiously, pun intended. Praise Christian Fellowship is not just a place of worship; it is our church family. I will admit, it is not a Baptist church, but we maintain our Baptist beliefs and can co-exist with the differences. We agree on the most important issues. This church was a source of comfort when my mother passed away and then my father began attending and he also faithfully attended for the rest of his life.  

I still serve at this church on our ACTS team (Actively Caring Through Service). We come up with projects for the congregation to do that will benefit the community and others. 

Of all our years of church going, I have to say the sermon that stayed with me the most was one we heard on vacation in Pennsylvania at a Mennonite Church. The sermon was so profound to me that I  wrote a blog post about it Christmas Eve 2018. (Debbie's Post: My Thoughts for this Christmas time and New Year). In a nutshell it was about all the lesser mentioned people in the Bible and how they made a difference by doing what they could do--no matter how small. We are all important. I may have to resend that post as my Christmas letter again this year. I think it bears repeating.

The church helps us navigate through this worldly life and gives us hope of eternal life. We know our future is secure. 

"And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another--and all the more as you see the Day approaching."

Hebrews 10:24-25

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #11

Letterboxing 

One fun hobby we had was similar to a treasure hunt. It's called Letterboxing. 

There is a website online where you find clues to boxes hidden, usually in the woods, but could be other places too. The clues tell you what town but from there you have to decipher the directions. Sometimes people will use nature--"turn left by the two sister trees" or "by the dog shaped rock" for clues in the directions. Some suggest you bring a compass, though not many. They will tell you to take so many steps to the next landmark and so on until you come to the place the box is hidden. It could be in a stone wall, under a tree hidden with leaves, or other places that are not so conspicuous to people just walking by. Now I will say that the clues are written by individuals, and some are well written, others were rather annoying and hard to follow. 

The box contains a notebook and rubber stamp; some will have an ink pad too but it's best you bring your own. To be a real letter boxer, you will have had to pick a name for your team, design a rubber stamp representing you and have a notebook (or we chose 3x5 cards) to collect stamps of where you have been. When you find a letter box, you stamp your stamp in the book that is there, and you sign your team's name. You can make a note about how it was finding the box or the weather that day or if you saw some kind of animal, etc. You take their unique stamp and stamp it in your book or note card to have a record of where you have been.

We were Minuteman and Lady W with a feather pen for our rubberstamp. We were amazed at the many places close to us that we never knew existed, an abandoned ski place, for one. You could choose letter box clues that led you on major hikes or try to find much easier ones, which was our choice. We really enjoyed our letterboxing adventures. It's a great outing for kids; they all enjoy scavenger hunts. It does appear as I look online (letterboxing.org) that there are fewer people doing it. Many of the clues are several years old and therefore, could lead to a dead end. We went on a few of those. It's disappointing when you don't have the reward of finding the box. 

For George's 60th birthday, I planted a letterbox called, "Make a Wish". I am just as bad as some people in that I never checked on it after we found it and re-hid it. You are supposed to see if they need maintenance--water could get in the box or it could be misplaced.

Our bodies don't really like hikes anymore. Enjoy what you can while you can! At least we have fun memories of a great way to pass the time in nature and often the reward of finding the "treasure". 

"You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."

Jeremiah 29:13

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #10

Road Rage, I mean Road Rally

A month before we were married, we participated in our first road rally. This was a driving contest where you were given clues and had to find various landmarks in a certain order and time. 

Now keep in mind that this was a time before cell phones and even local internet. Because each team started at different intervals, it wasn't who got there first that won. It was who kept the correct speed limit, went to the correct places, wrote down the right answers and finished with the closest correct mileage. From the start we were scratching our heads. The instructions told us to go so many kilometers. Ugh. We didn't know the accurate calculation to convert miles to kilometers. 

There was not a lot of time to stop and calculate and then to figure out where the clues were leading you. You had to fill in the blanks on the form with answers of what you thought they led you to. It was fun, challenging and exasperating all at once. Because of the anxiety we ended up being short with each other and there was arguing in tense moments, so much so that we briefly wondered if we would go through with our wedding the next month!

We didn't win. But this was a pre-cursor to our road trips (pre-map quest days), when I was the navigator and he was the driver. Those who navigate know how hard it is to read a map and road signs at the same time. The driver just expects the directions to be fed to them immediately. The driver is anxious because of traffic and paying attention to lane changes. My driver throws a fit should he take a wrong turn and have to detour. I think a good percentage of our disagreements have been trying to get somewhere. (Though isn't that life--traveling together seeing where life takes us). 

And yet...we have since done other road rallies and have sought them out. I guess we like the thrill of the hunt and trying to work together. They are kind of like a treasure hunt. There really aren't many around. 

Later we were introduced to a similar treasure hunt hobby called Letter Boxing. I started to write about that here, but I was getting so wordy, that I will save that for tomorrow.

Our last scavenger hunt was a contest run by the Norfolk Historical Society. You were given a couple of weeks to discover certain landmarks in Norfolk, CT. Since George grew up there, he was intrigued by this challenge. Armed with the clues, we set about different parts of Norfolk trying to decipher where the clues would take us. Some were very easy, however two eluded us. One was right under our noses on the town green! What was most aggravating for one clue was we assumed the answer was up Haystack Mountain. We had been up there a few times before with kids, but now we were older and I was so out of shape. I was truly afraid I was going to have a heart attack (note: that may not have been far from the truth as a few years later, I did). The part that was most aggravating is that was not where the answer was and we went there for nothing!

But the good news is we won! Our prize was this framed original limited reproduction by Michaela Murphy of a glass plate negative by Marie H. Kendall ca. 1880. It's entitled, "The Farmyard". We have it proudly hanging in our living room.

When I turned 70, my son gave me a clue which took me on a scavenger hunt to more and more clues until I got the prize. He gets me!

One little irritant I have about our road trips, if we are going past something that looks interesting and I don't see it soon enough, George will rarely turn around to check it out. Of course, if we had a schedule to meet, that would be one thing, but even in a leisurely ride, there is something in his DNA that makes him abhor going back.

I love the autumn, and I always try to find one day to drive around looking at all the beautiful scenery and stopping to take pictures. It sometimes requires turning back. I don't take George on my annual autumn drive. 

Somehow, we have stayed married almost 50 years despite the road "rage" which goes on in the car at times. People think road rage only happens with other drivers--not always the case. 

"Pray that the Lord your God will tell us where we should go and what we should do." Jeremiah 42:3

For my 70th birthday, my son made me a scavenger hunt where I had to drive places to find clues to get to the prize. 

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #9

Family

To say being an only child to marrying into a family of originally 13 kids was a shock to the system, is to say the least. What a different upbringing we had. I had my own bedroom and didn't have to share my toys or belongings. George reminds us that he celebrated when someone moved out of his bed. 

I did have some neighborhood kids to play with, but he constantly had someone around. He was into sports. I was into inside hobbies like writing, reading, stamp collecting, pen palling, piano playing, etc. 

George's family often had picnics at People's Forest. Everyone brought something to share and there was always a softball game. Now as a child, baseball gave me angst. First, I was lefthanded and I hated how they yelled, "Lefty" at school when I got up to bat and everyone shifted because of me. It wasn't really a disparagement against me. It was just warning the team which way the ball might go--big joke, that would be if I hit the ball. Then there was the stigma of being Casey at the bat, like the poem. So, playing softball with the family should have been fun but just gave me anxiety.

I'm going to be frank here. What gave me worse anxiety, was the different sense of humor that his family had. I led a naive and simple life and I often felt embarrassed by my naivety.

The first picnic I went to was at his sister's house and this picture was taken of us there. 
 

I pictured a big family to be like the Waltons, not in this case. I had often been disappointed not having any siblings, but also not having any nieces or nephews. Now when I finally got them, there were too many to have special quality time with and their ages were closer to mine, in many cases. I learned all families are different. As I said before, my family was a simple triangle of three. I have no clue what shape his family is, but the connecting lines are not as straight as my family. I had to learn the dynamics of this big family. 

George's sister, Ellie was the first to have us over for dinner and we also went to the horse races up in Greenfield with them.

George was treated like a son by my parents and he didn't feel right that my parents would give to him just as equally as to me. They adopted him. That's how my parents were. I think if I were to describe the dynamics, it wouldn't be that our triangle became a square but George was part of my vertex. He joined our triangle.

"How good and pleasant it is when God's people live together in unity."

Psalm 133:1

50 Days of Remembering Day #8

Cape Cod

My parents started renting a place at Cape Cod when I was in my teens. We would go once a year and later, twice a year. They gravitated to East Sandwich and they moved from teeny tiny cabins up to 5 bedroom houses right on the ocean. We loved our times there so much.

By the time we were married, they were at the bigger houses, so George and I had our own bedroom with sliding glass doors to an upper deck overlooking the ocean. It always took my breath away, year after year. When the kids came along, we introduced them to wonderful times there. They have fond memories. We all love the ocean.

Before we had kids, there were so many more gift shops on the Cape to visit and we loved looking for fun souvenirs. There was a seconds candle shop and other shops always greeted you with the smell of scented candles. Of course, there was saltwater taffy too, in so many different flavors.

My parents had their favorite fish places but George and I gravitated to "Cooke's Seafood". We always thought it was the best fish and chip we ever had--onion rings too. 

My parents, being the grandparents, treated the grandkids (and us) to many rounds of mini golf, always adorned with cool designs from story book type displays to the infamous Pirate's Cove. We also enjoyed Ryan's Amusements where we raced cars around the track. We also made great memories with bumper boats and cars. My Dad had quite a competitive spirit. 

I think the favorite part of the entertainment, though, was the hours (and money) spent at the arcade. We all (except George) loved trying to win games and earn tickets to be turned in for pretty poor prizes. A big draw for my Mom was the claw machines. She taught us all how you don't just put the tokens in and guess. No, you needed to study the placement of the stuffed animals and their relationship to those around them. Did they look available, but could the claw really grab enough of them? If they were too stuffed in, you had to forget it. Learning her techniques benefitted us quite a number of claw machine stuffed animals. It was such a thrill to hold your breath as the claw machine slowly carried it to the drop off point--hoping it wouldn't lose it before the drop, which did sometimes happen. We all shouted with joy when it made it. I think we all have a special "bond" with claw machines.

I know my kids fondly remember my Dad going out on the beach with a bag of bread and summoning every seagull within a mile. Before leaving the Cape we used to stop at this pond and traditionally feed the ducks. My parents loved birds. Of course, later we learned that bread wasn't the best thing for them. 

There was kite flying on the beach too and sadly, the tale has been retold of the time George lost a kite to the ocean. My Mom would tease with a pouty voice, "You lost my kite!" They never let him live it down.

For me, the treasures of the beach were my rewards. I have always loved rocks and the smoothness, the shapes, the colors, the patterns, all just attracted me. I would come back with heavy laden pockets or use the never-ending supply of plastic bags that my Mom had received from my Uncle when he worked at one of his jobs and they weren't needed any more. In cleaning out my parent's house, I found there were some bags still left!

But the biggest beach treasure was finding sea glass. The most common ones were green but occasionally we found brown, white and a rare blue. I spent hours looking down for the glimmering glass in the sunlight. Mom used to joke, "You can't leave until you find a piece of sea glass." If that were true, George would have been there a lot longer than me. Poor George had a hard time finding sea glass. It was only in recent years that he has become more proficient--or is it luck? I am sure he is not as persistent or diligent as I am to hunt for it and that makes a difference.

Another fond memory of Cape Cod times was just sitting around the table having a meal or playing games--cards or other games almost every night. Those were such special times. 

The other most satisfying reward of an ocean view is seeing the sunset or sunrise there. I am always in awe of such a site, the feel of the ocean breeze and the waves gently flowing back and forth. I always imagined they were taking away the bad in life and bringing in the good--if only it were that easy, but it does refresh my soul.

I am glad George and I share the love of the ocean and have had countless walks together on many beaches. 

"Let the sea resound, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it."

Psalm 98:7

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years Day #7

The Honeymoon

Back in those days, the Poconos was known as the honeymoon capital of the world. There were several resorts to choose from that all catered to newlyweds. We chose, "Birchwood". After our wedding reception we drove part of the way there, spending the night at an inn in New York. The next day we arrived at our resort for a weeklong stay.

The grounds had everything included to make our stay enjoyable. There was a mini-golf course, bowling alley, indoor pool, dining room and lots of entertainment. The Red Baron Lounge had live music and on one night, they did their version of the popular TV show, "The Newlywed Game". They had different activities; one we remember was candle dipping. 

One night they had an art auction. We both fell in love with a painting and decided to bid on it. We were a little nervous about our first auction--would we get carried away and bid too much? I remember the anxiety as our painting came up for bid. I believe the bidding started at $50, which we bid. Amazingly no one else bid against us. What a relief! But then we wondered why no one else liked it. It doesn't really matter.  This painting has always been in our living rooms all these years. 

Picture taken at Birchwood 
and was used on a poster for them.

The package deal for the resort included a ride in small plane over the Delaware River Gap. I was petrified! George had been in the Air Force and was really looking forward to it. First it was supposed to Monday, but they said it was too windy. Then it was supposed to be Tuesday, but it was again too windy. Each day I was relieved, and George was disappointed. It went like that every day until Friday. They decided to try it that day. The first trip they took two couples. When they came back they said it was still a little windy and would be better with just one couple. 

We bravely boarded. As I held George's hand in the plane, it was sweating. He knew it was a rough ride. I, being clueless, just loved it. I was too ignorant to know any better. 

After that week of relaxing at one place, we decided to spend the second week at Gettysburg. George is a big Civil War fan. We explored that area for a few days. I do enjoy history, but I am not as much of a history buff as George. But it was interesting. 

Our last stop was to be Hershey, PA. Now I am more a chocoholic than a history lover. It was fun seeing the candy kiss streetlights, but...that was all we saw. George ended up sick and we had to skip going to Hershey. Sure, I spend almost a week at Gettysburg and I didn't get to go to chocolate-ville! Not fair! Many, many years later we went there with our kids. 

Pennsylvania has always been a special place for us. We love Lancaster, the markets, the Amish, the stores, the trains, the country. But likewise, we like Philadelphia and all the history--the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall--I got goose bumps being in the same room where our forefathers met. We have seen where Poe lived and Ben Franklin's gravesite. I remember being in awe of seeing the Ben Franklin bridge lit up in different colors at night from our motel room. Philadelphia cheesesteaks and it was there that I first went to a Dave & Buster's. This girl who grew up with games enjoyed that. But that was not our honeymoon visit but in later years.

I love Pennsylvania. I am sure I will say more about trips to Pennsylvania in other posts. The only thing it is missing, is our major love, the ocean.

"Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves."

Romans 12:10

On our way to our honeymoon we stopped here to eat.

Our first motel as husband and wife:

Birchwood Poconos, Strasburg Inn

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #6

George Washington

The truth is when I told my parents I was bringing home George Washington for them to meet, they asked me what color he was. They weren't prejudice like the movie, "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?", but in truth, there are more black George Washingtons than white. 

It's not easy living with such a famous name. The most common question is: "Did you get teased as a kid?" Well, duh. Sometimes he may answer, "Never" just to see their response. Or "No, why?" 

People love to come up with a joke and he said he rarely hears anything new. People always think they are the first to ask, "Did you chop down a cherry tree?" Or ask about his teeth or where he slept. 

When being introduced, I have often been asked if my name is Martha or told that my name should be Martha. I respond with, "No that's his sister." Which is true. 

Of course, they ask if he's related to the president and his immediate answer is, "No Trump and I are not related." He inserts the name of whoever is the current president.

He tells them he was born on George Washington's birthday. They are amazed. He says, "Yes, June 15th."

We do inform them that we have not yet found our tree linked to the first president but George's lineage does go back to England and it is possible, though not directly. Remember George Washington did not have any children.

We have tried in the past to cash in on the name, yet no one has given us a discount on President's day. We have suggested that motels or inns, etc. could advertise that "George Washington slept here" after we left and hoped to get a discount. No such luck. We know people are going to tell others that they met George Washington.

We tried a play on words for George's business cards for his cleaning business, Minuteman Cleaning. We proclaimed, "George Washington swept here." The printers thought it was a typo and put "slept" and we had to have them re-do them. 

After we were married George did join the reserves and they made a big thing of it at Westover Air Force Base on February 22 with TV crews. I will admit that being newly married, I didn't like him being away one weekend a month and he didn't stay in the reserves long. 

One fun event George attended a few times was the celebrity name blood drive. People who shared their name with someone famous donated blood together at one place. He met Peter Rabbit, John Smith, Liz Taylor and many other people who had famous names. 

When we had children, George joked we were going to name them Seattle or Tacoma. When we had a son, despite George's father and grandfather being named George (middle name different, so no number after the name), he refused to do that to his son. We were doing a Bible study at the time and I loved the name Elijah but George was afraid he would be teased because it was close to Eliza. So, we chose Benjamin Elijah. And still people teased Ben calling him Benjamin Franklin. You just can't win.

Despite having a famous name, George is amazed when he runs into some people who can't remember his name and call him Al, his brother's name. This has happened on several occasions. 

I will admit that I had a little fun with the name. I was born Deborah Jane Casey. I never was thrilled with my middle name and when I got married and changed my name, I chose Deborah Casey Washington. My Mom thought it was nice that I was keeping Casey. I wasn't sure how they would take me changing my given name. The fun part of my new name was when I have to sign a paper last name first, it comes out "Washington, D.C."

Also going from Casey to Washington took getting used to--a last name twice as long. I know my kids' signatures are blurred--you can't read the skid marks that they have made of the letters. For most of our lives, I would take care to write my name legibly, however the older I got and seeing what my kids get away with, I kind of skate through a couple of the letters in my last name. If we are signing something together, George will often remind me, "Use all of the letters".  

Although I think George would have preferred a different first name, I am sure that having such a name has helped him to develop his sense of humor and has shaped who he is.

"A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold."

Proverbs 22:1

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #5

Entrepreneurs

I don't know what made us both have this inner desire to have side businesses. I don't know if this desire is common to most people. I just know we have often tried "side-hustles". We were probably in search of more money and success. Maybe we just needed something else to keep us busy in life. We were good at keeping busy. I will say my parents had this same spirit. Mom and Dad used to enter these puzzle contests and one day they thought it would be more lucrative to run their own. They did that for a while, sadly with not great success. Dad became a real estate salesman for a while, branching out on that side job. My parents also joined us (or maybe we joined them) in Yureka foods and Universe Foods, two different multi-level marketing companies. My Dad was always thinking of possible inventions or games, and I should mention his brother, my Uncle Joe, was a very creative person too. 

Let me go back in our lives' histories. Even before marriage I found opportunities to volunteer--I was a Junior Achievement Advisor, I tutored a woman in math (not my forte, but I was asked). I typed large print books for the visually impaired. Later I was a girl scout leader, helped out at my kids school and different activities (they never asked me to handle refreshments for the talent show again--I got so many people to donate that it had to be turned into an unplanned bake sale!). I arranged for a special mobile unit that had seats the kids could sit in and watch about fire safety at the school. I was in charge of collecting the soup labels. When I was in high school, I founded and published a town newspaper, "Hartland Highlights" for two years with help from a couple of visionary friends. I know over my lifetime that I am forgetting something. 

We were both often involved with our churches, from being Sunday school teachers, Sunday school superintendent, church custodians, Sunday school secretary, Awana leaders, in charge of the meal ministry and other ministries at church. When a friend of us was terminally ill in a nursing home, George went weekly to read to her. I know they read at least two books together. That was the volunteer side.

Our first entrepreneurial dream was when we were married and had the cabin on our property. I enjoyed planning children's parties--always games, activities, prizes and at that time, I made cute cakes and somehow was going to offer photographs too. I thought I could turn it into a business. Why take your kids to Chucky Cheese's when you could take them to the Party Cabin? I was on a roll until the price of insurance derailed our dreams. We would have had to charge too much.

George and a co-worker bought donuts and tried to sell them to the other commuters on their bus, a short-lived attempt to make a little extra money.

I have a little notebook remembering some of our business ventures. We did several multi-level marketing. Raleigh Products (similar to Watkins products) was our best one. We had a good time doing tasting parties. George would give the talk and I would prepare and serve samples of the products. We did quite well until the person above us did us wrong. We were disappointed to leave. 

We joined this company called "Gifttime" where we distributed catalogs and we got a percentage of the sales. We called ourselves "Hometown Products". 

I did a craft fair one year selling earrings that I made out of scrabble and puzzle pieces and also mini dog biscuit Christmas trees. It was fun but I was not really crafty enough to pursue that venue. 

Not necessarily entrepreneurial, but George being a history major has always had a love of politics. He ran for selectmen in Norfolk on his own party, the Federalist Party, and twice on the Barkhamsted Republican party. He didn't get elected but he tried. 

One of our most successful ventures was the Barkhamsted mug and t-shirts. George came up with the concept of the design and we paid an artist friend to actually do the artwork. We sold the items ourselves and also as fundraisers for the Women's club and other groups. It was a win-win situation. We tried a t-shirt design for Winsted designed by a college art student, but it didn't do very well. (We still have a lot of leftover Winsted t-shirts!). Unfortunately, Bowlmaster, where we had our items manufactured went out of business without notifying us and didn't return the templates, so that business was put to an end. There may be a way nowadays to still re-create these items, I'm not sure but I have to tell myself we are retired. 

We also were book distributors. When George discovered a library that he cleaned would put purged books in the dumpster, he asked them to hold them out and he would save them. We have done that for many years, saving perfectly good books from destruction. We sold some on Amazon, but most were relocated to my daughter's school, nursing homes, friends, little libraries, and as a last resort, Goodwill or other thrift stores. 

Of course, all these entrepreneurial genes led George to starting his own businesses. He did window washing, painting, his Minuteman Cleaning business and Minuteman Properties, his landlord business. I prided myself for coming up with the slogan on George's cleaning business cards, "George Washington swept here."

In my retirement, I pursued my dream of having a book published. It was not the book I had planned on publishing, but my grandson led me on a different path, and I ended up with my first book, "A Fish in a Tree". Maybe someday I will pursue other writing projects, but at least I did accomplish that one. 

I probably left out some ventures, but this was to show you we didn't always just dream about things (though we did daydream about a lot of other things--soup and salad bar restaurant comes to mind, but there were many more). We ventured out. We tried. We have no regrets for any of them.

"Lazy hands make for poverty, but diligent hands bring wealth." Proverbs 10:4

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #4

Nine Months

It's not what you are thinking. Nine months is how long we knew each other before we got married. I will tell you, yes, we were in love but in nine months we also did not fully know each other.

I remember the first time I saw George really lose his temper--it was after we were married. After we were married, he learned just how poor I was at housekeeping but pretty good at cooking. After we were married, we learned all the little tweaks about life that one liked one way and another liked a different way, whether it be squeezing toothpaste a certain way, folding clothes certain ways, hanging clothes on hangers right or left-handed or other quirks.

Even if we had lived together before marriage which the world now embraces (but our faith doesn't agree), life's circumstances shape people and we all change. Parenthood is a learning process and surely changes a person. Different jobs shape people, loss of loved ones, health issues, and so many more of life's passages change us.

There were times when being married was hard. Life gave us many obstacles that we didn't always agree on the way to get around them, but we hung in there and we got through them one way or another. He would tell you I always got my way, but I would say differently for sure. There were arguments and hardships. I just want to let anyone know that being married 50 years is no easy task. It's not that two people are the absolute perfect fit in every way, but they learn how to work with each other with their different strengths and weaknesses. They learn the ebb and flow of the waves of life to navigate the course together. To be truthful, sometimes I did wonder if our ship was going to survive the storms.

I guess this one is a public service announcement. Hang in there. One piece of advice that I would give is to not take everything so seriously or "don't sweat the small stuff". There are so many big things to get through, let the little slide. And we have found humor is a great healer and a great way to overcome little things.

I remember the time that George was annoyed that I had not picked up the correct type of peanut butter. He liked crunchy and I had gotten creamy (which, of course, I prefer--we have our differences). It was breakfast and I had just made scrambled eggs. He reiterated so I would get it right next time, "I like crunchy peanut butter, crunchy cookies (not chewy ones)."

I plopped his plate of eggs on the table and said, "Fine, next time I'll make your eggs crunchy!" A moment that could have snowballed, was turned into laughter. Laughter has healing powers, as long as not at anyone's expense. We have had a lot of laughs in 50 years. 

"Remember how the Lord your God led you all the way in the wilderness these forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart." Deuteronomy 8:2

50 Days of Remembering 50 years Day #3

In fifty years, we have lived in four places--all within twenty miles of each other.

When we were first married, I moved into George's apartment on Wall Street in Torrington. He had been living in a small apartment on the third floor but moved to the first floor when we were getting married. To be honest, I barely remember too much about it. We were there for about five months. Sadly a few months after we moved out a fire destroyed the whole building. We can only drive by the empty lot and say, "That's where we first lived." The houses were so close, it's hard to imagine there was even a house there. 

Remember how I said I didn't go to college but went right to work? Well, I also lived with my parents. At one point I was considering getting an apartment with friends, but my parents were so distraught about that, that I abandoned that idea. They loved having me around but also didn't see the need for me to waste money on living elsewhere. As I have said before we were a strong family unit, a triangle that could not be broken. This made it hard for me to tell them when George proposed. I thought they would be upset, but no, getting married was different and they were happy for me. 

Shortly before we were married, I disclosed to George that I had a little bit of savings. He was quite amazed. Because of my savings, we were able to have the down payment to become homeowners within five months. He joked that he didn't know he was marrying into money. Now, it wasn't that much, but enough to get us started. 

Our first home was Stony Hill, a cute four room house up a long 450-foot-long driveway in Norfolk, CT. I have fond memories from the cute little home--beautiful flowers and a veggie garden, many cultivated raspberries, a nice deck out front and a boy scout cabin we had moved there where we had our kid's birthday parties. In the house, there was an actual staircase to the attic. What a delight. 

I do remember the negatives: the long uphill driveway that had me in tears when the plow broke down and we were shoveling it by hand. Also, this was the old days and although my parents only lived 25 miles away, they were a toll call whenever I called. Back in those days if you called someone long distance, you were charged extra each time. Thus, my Mom actually wrote me letters sometimes. 

I have covered more details about our housing journey in the past, so for now, will not go into the details of the long, detoured journey of heartbreak and struggles, but will say in 1985 we ended up in Barkhamsted and it is still our home. We love our town.

We didn't intend on renting for more than a year, but circumstances found us at the Rocktree Apartments in Pleasant Valley for eight years. I will say for apartments, we couldn't have had a better country setting for the kids to grow up in. There was a big backyard and a long rectangular gazebo where they always played and we held all the birthday parties there. From our living room sliding glass doors to the deck, we could see Ski Sundown lit up at night. One quirky thing the kids like to remember is when you opened the oven door in the tiny kitchen, anyone in the bathroom would be locked in. The apartment was set up like a raised ranch with the bedrooms downstairs. Unfortunately there were only two bedrooms forcing our kids to share a room all those years. Our single Dad neighbor chose to sleep in his living room giving his kids each their own bedroom. He was quite the Dad. On the other hand, my husband often reminds us that his family was so big growing up, that he rejoiced when someone moved out of his bed. 

The road was long, but prayers were answered in God's time and in 1993 we not only got a house, we had one built. We chose a ranch style anticipating it would be our retirement home, and we would not want to deal with stairs--now we are realizing the true wisdom in that choice. We do have to go downstairs to our laundry (which could have been on the main floor instead of a pantry, but I do l like my pantry). 

I am happy to say we are still here. 

If I had thought about these posts earlier, I could have included more pictures of our journey, but I am rushed now with each day moving me along. Maybe at some point I will add more pictures to each blog entry. 

I found this newpaper article that shows our first apartment after the fire that destroyed it after we had moved out.

"My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest." Isaiah 32:18

50 Days of Remembering 50 Years #2

I am realizing it's going to be hard to pick out which memories of many years together to pick out. I may not go chronologically and maybe it will be haphazard--like my daily rabbit trails.

Facts: 

We met on January 31, 1975

First date February 2, 1975

About May 17 George gave me a lilac bush. He knew it was my favorite flower. We planted it at my parents' house. It is still there but doesn't do very well in the shady spot, but it's still alive.

We became engaged on May 24, 1975--how could I say no to someone who gave me lilacs?

This is my poor lilac bush, still hanging in there 50 years later.

He asked me to marry him in the parking lot of the Chart House in Avon, another spot we sometimes went to for a drink upstairs. I still have the little champagne bottle from when we celebrated there.

We picked out our rings together in one day of running around to several places. We ended up picking out our rings at George's Jewelers in Westfield, MA. We have driven by and we see it is still in business. We should really stop by someday. 

After running around that day, we were late to see his mother when we were going to tell her the news. Because we were late, she was upset with us. You never wanted to cross his mother. She did come around, in time, as she always did. 

I always dreamed of a fall wedding, so when picking the date, it was either the fall of that year or wait over a year. We did not want to wait, so November 1st was chosen, a mere nine months from when we met. 

My easy choice of attendants were two friends I became close with at work and one childhood friend: Kathy Quick, Joanne Bazzano and Janice Senter. George chose his brother, Al and two childhood friends: Rob Harrington and Joe Sverni. George's niece, Lisa Namey was chosen at flower girl, and his nephew, Scott Batky, as ring bearer. 

Memorabilia from the day:

We were married at Norfolk Congregational Church by Reverand Bruce Anderson. Our wedding reception was at Dileo's Grove. I have to find the spelling of the name of our photographer, something like John (Jean) Rebeuff. He had a French accent and kept us in stitches. The weather was the most perfect autumn day nearly 70 degrees. "What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate." Mark 10:9

50 days of remembering 50 years #1 The Beginning

It's 50 days away from our 50th wedding anniversary. I thought I would share something each day about our journey together. Some are stories told over and over again, so bear with me. I do need to start at the beginning once again. 

It was January 1975. I was still living at home with my parents in East Hartland. I had been working at Connecticut General Life Insurance Company in Bloomfield for a little over 3 years, straight out of high school. For most of my life, I have avoided the subject when people talked about what college they attended as I felt a stigma of being a lowly high school graduate, but in my old age, I cannot care anymore, and I actually did fine without it. I had intended to work for a year to save up money to go to college (Although a spoiled only child, my parents did not intend on funding it. Dad thought college mostly taught common sense and he said I had that.)  I told my guidance counselor that I was going to work for a year to save money and then apply for a college in White Plains, NY to study advertising. He told me I would never go if I started working. I didn't believe him, but he was right. 

About twenty miles away, George, who had grown up in Norfolk, was living in Torrington and working at UOP Aerospace in Bantam. He had served in the Air Force and was an air traffic control operator in Vietnam at the air base in Pleiku. He loved being an air traffic controller best of all the jobs he ever had. He attended college on the GI bill majoring in history, considering being a teacher. He was 28 years old and I was 22--boy, does that sound young now. At the time, I was wondering if I would ever meet Mr. Right. You've heard of the comparisons between Lincoln and Kennedy, I presume. Well, George and the guy I went out with before him both were one of 13 kids in the younger end of the family, both had mustaches, both had served in the Air Force and in Vietnam. They were both older than me. If you want to get crazy, both had 6 letters in their first names, brown hair, were around the same height, and had good senses of humors. Later I told myself that God had said, you almost have the right guy. 

Back in those days, Friday nights were the night that singles usually went out to the local lounges. In our area we had the Dial Tone Lounge (a unique experience where you had phones at your tables and could call a stranger at another table to start a conversation). There was a place in Canton, I can't remember the name, for some reason I think the Cracker Barrel--the chairs were barrels and they played old black and white silent movies on the walls. There were quite busy places in the Hartford area attracting a ton of people. In Winsted there were bars, but in Torrington, there was the Springtree Lounge. To me it seemed like a more upscale place as opposed to the bars, and it had live music. 

I was paired up with my friend's cousin to go out on Friday nights, yes, honestly hoping to meet someone. I had just gotten back from a road trip to Michigan to visit my closest friend. Her sister and I had made the trek. Meanwhile back home, my Friday night friend was anxiously waiting for me to return, expecting me to go out that night. I was still recovering from the trip and didn't want to go out at all. She begged and pleaded and I gave in. And that was the night on January 31, 1975, I met George Washington. 

He asked me to dance and I don't know if I would exactly say it was love at first sight, but I thought, "There's something different about this guy." He asked for my phone number and I reached for a notepad I had in my purse--coincidentally it looked like a dollar bill (another sign?).

He didn't want to ask me out for the next day. He thought that was too assuming, but he called and asked me to go for a ride on Sunday and I went. 

From then on we met at the Springtree Lounge or went out every weekend. I don't remember exactly how, but "Mandy" by Barry Manilow became 'our song'. 

Neither of us dated anyone else since. I did get asked out, ironically around February 22.  I told the guy I was seeing someone else. I don't know why, but the guy asked me who had asked me out. When I answered, he must have thought I could lie better than saying, "George Washington". 

Something I haven't shared but might as well...there is often this awkwardness about a first kiss. George did not want to be too forward, but he was also a bit shy about it. As we stood on my front step after our third date, he pointed in the sky and said, "Look! There's Halley's comet!" and as I looked up, he stole a kiss. Obviously, whenever anyone mentions Halley's comet, it has a different meaning for us. 

"I have found the one whom my soul loves." 

Song of Solomon 3:4