Anniversary of Teenage Years
It would have been sixty-three years this year, not to mention the several years of dating before our marriage. We got married on July 6th, 1963, and I swear it was one of the hottest days of the year.
Looking back, it is fun to remember this good and scary time for me. I was only 17 years old. Reflecting back on our engagement, it was during the summer between my junior and senior year of high school. I had been dating Art (on and off) for a long time, since I was fifteen. As previously written, I met Art on a blind date, and the rest is history.
By the time I was a senior in high school, we were seriously considering setting our wedding date for immediately after I graduated. Art was two years older than I, and decided to get a job instead of continuing his education. I believe he did this so that when I graduated, we could get a good start financially in our married life. He wanted to get married the summer I graduated, but I felt I needed time to “grow up,” and Art’s dad wouldn’t sign the marriage license because he wasn’t yet 21. So, we tied the knot the next summer when I was 19 and Art was 21 and 8 days old. (We chose that date because I had to make sure that the office was closed and my boss was on vacation, so I planned my wedding around my boss’s schedule)
It was a beautiful summer evening, and we were going out to eat with friends. We went to the Chandaclier Club between Sun Prairie and Madison. Art had picked me up, and we were driving to our friends’ house by way of Denning Avenue. Art pulled the car to the side of the road and said we needed to talk. He went over a few hundred facts about our relationship and asked me to marry him. I had noticed a silver tray in the back seat and had wondered why he would have this. It never occurred to me that when you purchase an engagement ring from a certain jeweler, you get a piece of silver as a present. Art and I had looked at rings, and I decided that if and when I got engaged, I would want a silver, one-half-carat, solitaire engagement ring. When I was asked this question, I knew I wanted to marry Art, but I also knew I was really, really young. I said yes, and experienced a weird feeling I can’t explain. I think this meant “Wow, I am growing up.” I knew my mom would not be pleased, as she had shared her concern that if I were to get married young, it could affect my chances of getting a good job. Her concerns were unfounded, but that was how she felt. Art had presented the idea to my parents and, since they adored him, said it was o.k., but reiterated that we were still very young and really should wait a while to get married.
At the Chandaclier Club, we danced, ate, and had a very romantic, nice evening with me sporting a one-half solitaire diamond on the ring finger of my left hand. I WAS ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED. (Holy shit).
As it turned out, this was a great choice for us. We had good jobs, good heads on our shoulders, and our lives were and have been a great trip. We were ready for the next chapter and did the best we could with what we knew, thanks to a great support system.
Happy 62 ½ anniversaries to us. (And they said, “It wouldn’t last” )
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