"Will you marry me?" this 23-year-old man said as he opened the box and held the ring for this 20-year old to see. He is Mike. I am Fran. It was summer, 1962, on a golf course driving range.
Mike continued: "We have to leave for California before the snow flies, because people can’t play golf in the snow. We should get married no later than the first week of October."
I was a full-time telephone company Service Representative and full-time University of Omaha college student. I stared at this new civilian, honorably discharged Army man. I now realized that the discussion of his goal of becoming a PGA golf professional was more than just casual conversation.
Here we were at Benson Park driving range in Omaha, Nebraska, where my older brother, Jack, was the trampoline instructor and had introduced me to the facility’s golf instructor on Memorial Day of 1962.
My answer was, "yes."
Our wedding took place on October 6, 1962. This was only four months and six days after we met.
Gossip had reached us, "This marriage won’t last."
Mike had a 1962 Chevy II convertible and I had the gas money to get us from Nebraska to California. We left Nebraska with hopes of employment when we reached our California destination. Our honeymoon was this trip immediately following the wedding.
He is now a Life Member of the PGA of America and I have recently returned to college for an advanced degree. Our grown son, daughter, and six grandchildren are the greatest ever!
Mike has replaced the wedding set, years ago, with a three-carat diamond ring. Ignoring appraisal values, I just can’t seem to determine which is the most valuable.
I do know that I feel it is important that I try to not gossip. How about you?