On this day, in 1952, my sister and her husband were married. It was a simple wedding ceremony, held after morning worship services in our little country church. And it seems I can remember the congregation singing, "When They Ring Those Golden Bells for You and Me." Afterward, we went home with friends and family invited to eat the noon meal with us. She was a month short of being eighteen and he was five years older; I was eleven.
Their meeting was not really by chance, since he was a brother to our cousin's husband, and at the time was in the Marines. He had worked for Daddy in the hay when he was a young boy, and later said he remembered seeing two little girls playing, but of course never dreamed he'd be marrying one of them. Their courtship had to be mostly through letters, which came often; and I wanted to know what was in them! What a pest I was to her, always sneaking around trying to find the letters! Now I didn't realize she was worried that he wouldn't be discharged from service, since the Korean War was getting into full swing, so when he did get a chance to come to the house to see her, there I was, nudging my way into their together time! For instance, in this picture, see how I've managed to get myself included in the photo? No one knew I was in the picture until it was developed!
At the time I was glad she was getting married; the bed would be mine -- all to myself! Now Mama wouldn't have to roll up a quilt and put it between us; someone, I'm not sure which of us, didn't want the other touching with her feet and legs (it was probably me!). In spite of all this nonsense, she still loves me and I love her too. So, here's wishing you the happiest of all times, big sister!