THOSE WERE THE DAYS: “Seven Decades”
I took a peek through a small opening crack in the door and saw the church was quite full of friends and relatives. I could hear the organ playing softly as I paced back and forth in the small anti room. Earlier I had nicked my neck shaving and a small red dot was visible on my starched white collar, I was sure everyone noticed it like they would a pimple on a smooth face. I continually adjusted my brand new $19.00 blue suit I had purchased for the wedding; half a week’s pay. After a few nervous minutes, Len, my brother and best man and I were ushered into the church.
A smile creased Reverend Watt’s face as we took our designated places, he gave a slight nod and all of a sudden the organ boomed out the familiar wedding march
“Here Comes The Bride”.
And there she was coming down the aisle on her father’s arm. It was for real, I was getting married.
She was dressed in a long white gown with a white train and halo-like silk surrounding her face, a wedding gown her grandfather generously supplied. She cradled a large bouquet of flowers, I had never seen anyone so beautiful in my entire life and in a few minutes Catherine Marie Beveridge, that girl “Kay”, would be my wife.
Yes, it was March 27, 1954, seventy years ago but when I close my eyes the years fly backwards like a rewound film and the decades of blood, sweat, happiness and tears seem like only a few years gone by.
I turned nineteen on December 21st and Kay had her eighteenth birthday the following February 6th so of course we were told we were too young to get married. I worked at Wonder Bakeries earning thirty eight fifty a week, I had nothing to offer Kay other than myself and my wife had nothing to offer me but herself, we knew the difference between lust and love and when we took our vows, it was through love and love alone, a love we still share after all these years.
My Dad gave me two pieces of advice, one was to never pay more in rent than you earn per week and the other was to accept the responsibilities of a wife and pending family so when things get rough, don’t come running home like a beaten child.
Our first apartment was a cute one bedroom, we were paying fifty dollars a month rent which proved my Dad was right. When the other salesmen stopped for morning coffee I rarely did because coffee cost a dime, something I usually didn’t have.
Two years later we were blessed with our first of two sons; two boys who got into every bit of trouble and boyhood injuries, yet displayed so much love and family devotion that has made us forever proud.
As my wages inched upward our thoughts turned to owning our own home and that dream came alive when we purchased a two bedroom cottage on a country setting for the princely sum of $8500., no money down, fifty eight dollars a month.
The good ‘ol days, life was so simple back then.
Russ Sanders
epigram@nexicom.net
