Forty two years ago tomorrow, my great white hunter and I loaded up into his dad's yellow and white Chevy pick up. He was wearing his AF uniform, I had a pretty suit I bought off the rack at J C Penney. We were off to find a Justice of the Peace to marry us. It would be the 4th before we would actually be man and wife and now that my mother is no longer with us, I will admit to that one! I was 19, he was 20. We had been dating since I was 15, although we had gone our own way more than once.

He had come home on leave to ask me to marry him and if I said yes, to marry me before he went back. This was 1966, he was in the AF and our country was at war. He was due for orders and there was a very good chance he would be going to "Nam". After a fifteen minute discussion about what I expected out of a husband, I, of course, said "YES!!!" The course for the rest of our life was set.

There was no time to plan a wedding. One problem was the fact that I was raised in the Catholic Church, the great white hunter in the Baptist. His parents had planned a vacation around his leave, thinking he would go see all the family with them. My family was not financially able to do anything for us, so we decided to buy our licence in town, then go else where to get married. One hitch was, that week there was a state wide meeting for the local Justice of the Peace. Everywhere we stopped told us the same story. "Come back next week." We finally stopped in a town where the lady working in the office took one look at the uniform and knew we were on a time limit. She called another near by town where there was a judge who could marry us. She told us that he hated to marry people, he was a divorce judge but that he also was a supporter of our military so he might just do it. He did, we had the local sheriff and a deputy for our witness. When it came time to pay the fee, he refused to take it, saying he would not benefit from doing something that might end up in his divorce court later on. (How I wish he could see how things turned out!)

We had a couple of days alone, then went on the family vacation with his parents. They dropped him off at his base in California and I went home to my family and my job. He did get orders and in Feb. came home to move me to Southern California. The "Nam" thing came a few years later.

He is my hero, my very best friend and my greatest support. He helps me pick out my quilt fabric when I am color challenged! If you ask him what his goal in life is, he will tell you, to make me happy. He has and does. The 42 years have not been without struggle and there were times when both of us felt like we wanted to leave. But every time, something positive happened that told us we needed to stay together. Would I do it again? You bet your boots I would, but this time I think I would like a wedding cake! LOL

Happy Anniversary to my great white hunter!