It seems our marriage was the most unconventional one. We've been married 54 years and still going strong. We met the first class of the first day in college.
His mother didn't like me because "I came from the wrong side of the tracks", where they'd once lived. She said they'd moved to get with their class of people and he shouldn't be dating someone from back there. It was clear we were deeply in love, so she was determined to separate us. She considered sending him away to college or even forcing him into the military.
She had a girl from their area all picked out for him and did all she could to get them together.
We weren't of age to get married in our state, so the only option was too elope. The only states where we could marry were too far, so we had to find another place to elope. The Mexican border wasn't too far, about 300 miles, so we decided to go there. We told our parents we were going on an all-day Sunday school picnic and headed south.
No passport was required at that time. We found what we thought was someone who could marry us, but he was a notary public. His daughters thought our elopement incredibly romantic and persuaded him to help us. He made a phone call and a man in a dusty pickup appeared. We gave him $25 to take us into the interior because it was illegal to be married in a border state.
We had to get a permit go into the next states and had to be over 21 to do so (we were both 19). Our guide told us that for $10 each the guard would put down whatever age we told him, so Robert dais he was 22 and I was 21. The ages were duly noted and we were on our way.
Down the road we went until it turned into a gravel road, then a dirt one, then a couple of ruts, and finally a cow path. Our guide could have killed us and no one would've ever known. We finally bumped along into a classic Mexican town with adobe buildings built into a square. He left us at the courthouse and went to get the judge, who was a woman named Jesus. The witness was a potbellied sheriff.
The judge said something in Spanish. The sheriff poked me in the ribs and I said, "Si." She said more and Robert was poked in the ribs and said, "Si." We signed a book and were handed a marriage license. At least we think it was a license. We may have joined the Mexican army.
We crossed the border and into our new life. His mother had a fit that rocked Pluto but it didn't do any good. She changed the linens on Robert's bed every week for two years, waiting for him to come to his senses and come home. He never did.
His mother didn't like me because "I came from the wrong side of the tracks", where they'd once lived. She said they'd moved to get with their class of people and he shouldn't be dating someone from back there. It was clear we were deeply in love, so she was determined to separate us. She considered sending him away to college or even forcing him into the military.
She had a girl from their area all picked out for him and did all she could to get them together.
We weren't of age to get married in our state, so the only option was too elope. The only states where we could marry were too far, so we had to find another place to elope. The Mexican border wasn't too far, about 300 miles, so we decided to go there. We told our parents we were going on an all-day Sunday school picnic and headed south.
No passport was required at that time. We found what we thought was someone who could marry us, but he was a notary public. His daughters thought our elopement incredibly romantic and persuaded him to help us. He made a phone call and a man in a dusty pickup appeared. We gave him $25 to take us into the interior because it was illegal to be married in a border state.
We had to get a permit go into the next states and had to be over 21 to do so (we were both 19). Our guide told us that for $10 each the guard would put down whatever age we told him, so Robert dais he was 22 and I was 21. The ages were duly noted and we were on our way.
Down the road we went until it turned into a gravel road, then a dirt one, then a couple of ruts, and finally a cow path. Our guide could have killed us and no one would've ever known. We finally bumped along into a classic Mexican town with adobe buildings built into a square. He left us at the courthouse and went to get the judge, who was a woman named Jesus. The witness was a potbellied sheriff.
The judge said something in Spanish. The sheriff poked me in the ribs and I said, "Si." She said more and Robert was poked in the ribs and said, "Si." We signed a book and were handed a marriage license. At least we think it was a license. We may have joined the Mexican army.
We crossed the border and into our new life. His mother had a fit that rocked Pluto but it didn't do any good. She changed the linens on Robert's bed every week for two years, waiting for him to come to his senses and come home. He never did.
). The other desserts, for the guests, were a huge variety---2 or 3 full tables---of other cakes and pies and cookies and fancy candies and such. I thought that was a good way to do it. Nobody really likes wedding cake as much as a good German Chocolate cake anyway 
