Many years ago when I had a brief interest in collecting
antiques, someone told me “anything at least 50 years old is considered an
antique.” Well, by that definition I reached said title some years ago and now
so has my marriage. Today, my husband and I are celebrating our golden
anniversary cruising with our girls and their families. How fortunate we are to
have our whole crew with us for this occasion.
June and July of 1962 held significant events for me. I
graduated from North Park Academy in Chicago in June and married my longtime
friend in July. I was extremely happy to
put high school behind me and overjoyed to move towards building a life together
with my new husband.
Jim and I met at Second Baptist Church in Chicago when he
was 12 and I was 10. My family had recently moved from small town Indiana to
Chicago; Jim’s family had been in Chicago for several generations. We spent most weekends attending
the various activities offered by our Church. As time went on we were on-again
off-again dating, then Jim graduated and joined the Air Force. After his first
leave, we were on-again for good
.
Although not exactly thrilled about our upcoming union, (they
thought we were too young) Jim’s parents came through with flying colors. They,
with my soon-to-be sister-in-law drove me up the then unpaved Alcan highway to
Anchorage, Alaska where Jim was serving at Elmendorf Air Force base. What an adventure that was!!
Ours was a small wedding in the chapel on base. We had six
in attendance, not counting Jim, me and the Chaplin. One additional friend was
supposed to come and take pictures but he forgot. So we have very few pictures
of the day; however, some is better than none. After a lunch at a pancake
house, Jim’s parents headed home and Jim went to work (that was a prank and
they sent him home almost immediately).
It was fifty years ago today but for me it seems like
yesterday. Yes, we have two grown daughters who have four grown children but it
has all passed so quickly. If not for mirrors
and the occasional aches and pains from an aging body, I’d swear I was still
that young woman looking into the loving eyes of that dashing Airman.
I always heard that an antique was 100 years. Anything less was considered "vintage". I guess you have 50 years to go!
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