I finished the story for Mom and Dad's 50th wedding anniversary. It is quite long but I think you will enjoy it. Here it is:
50 Years Together
We’re the two new people that’s moved to the middle of the block
And we’re the talk of the town and don’t you think we’re not.
For we’ve got love and happiness people envy us you see.
For we found heaven right here on earth at 4 0 33.
Yes we found what most people are looking for.
And it’s not a lotta money to spend on a real fine car.
It’s a window where a bird flies and sings so free
And there’s a whole lotta windows in this little house at 4 0 33
The four thousandth block proves what true love can do.
Once a lonely place but was sold to me and you.
Oh all around the house you can see little children play.
And they’re not other people kids we’re proud to say.
They are the symbol of our love for all the world to see.
They’re a part of heaven right here on earth at 4 0 33.
All hours of the day you can see many people drive by.
For a look at the house they think fell from the sky.
They think that this place would make them as happy as you and me.
And the whole towns trying to buy our house at 4 0 33.
REFRAIN
We’re not gonna sale our happy little house at 4 0 33.
Wouldn’t take a pretty thing for the love we had at 4 0 33.
As you all know we are here today to honor my parents. They truly lived the life of this song. George Jones could not have written a more perfect song for this occasion.
What is the recipe for 50 years of marriage? Is it true love, marrying your soul mate, sheer determination, or pure stubbornness or maybe a combination of all four?
Dad and Mom, also known as Bob and Johnnie, were married Aug. 22, 1959. Now seven kids and fourteen grandchildren later they are celebrating 50 years of marriage, a feat in itself, much less surviving raising seven children.
Mom said it took her six months to get a date with Dad. “He didn’t want to take me out because I was Catholic but when we finally went out he knocked my socks off with the first kiss and has been doing it ever since.”
On their 32nd wedding anniversary my dad planned the evening. He wanted to recreate that first date. So Mom got all dressed up and even put on lipstick, which she rarely ever wore. Dad showed up at the house in a limousine dressed in bibbed overalls with one pant leg rolled up and a straw in his mouth. He was carrying a coffee can with silk flowers in it. It was certainly a night to remember. My mom could not stop laughing and who could resist that infectious laugh. It always echoed throughout the house.
On their 33rd anniversary they decided to renew their vows. They both loved the song Meet in the Middle by Diamond Rio, so they modeled the ceremony after the song. Which says, “I’d start walking your way, You’d start walking mine, We’d meet in the middle, ‘Neath that old Georgia Pine, We’d gain a lot of ground ‘Cause we’d both give a little, and there ain’t no road too long, when you meet in the middle.” They had a pine tree in the yard that Dad built a gazebo around and he poured a sidewalk leading to it. Mom was on one end of the walk and Dad on the other and they met in the middle and renewed their vowels “’Neath that old Georgia Pine.” It was a very touching ceremony.
They truly found what most people are looking for. Their love was apparent to everyone, especially us children. They were not afraid to show their affection and they didn’t seem to mind embarrassing us kids with a passionate kiss.
I remember walking into the kitchen when I was young and seeing Mom and Dad kissing passionately. I thought “yuck, how embarrassing” and ran out of the room as fast as possible feeling I had seen something I shouldn’t have.
My brother, Tom, recalled a story, after the four oldest kids had left home, when it was just him, Jenny and Josh. They had all gone to a movie together leaving Mom and Dad home alone. They were given strict instructions to come straight home after the movie. Upon arriving home they found dad coming out of his bedroom pulling up his pants and holding his t-shirt in his hand. He asked “what are you doing home so early.” Tom said, “You told us to come straight home” and Dad said “oh, well then, just go to bed.” And then of course there was the Hulk Hogan incident that I won’t elaborate on.
Other times I remember Dad kneeling beside his Sugar Babe, patting her on the leg and kissing her affectionately on the cheek. No two people could be more in love.
Mom and Dad were obviously meant to be parents; and we seven can testify that they were both very good at it. When I asked Mom why did you have seven kids, she said “all I had to do was wash my underwear with your dads and I got pregnant.” With seven kids, there was always something going on around the house, which brought much delight to Mom and Dad. They both loved children and Mom especially loved babies. We even had two foster children for a while but when the time came, it was difficult to give them up. Nothing thrilled Mom’s heart more then holding a baby.
As a child, it seemed to me, Mom was always pregnant. I remember Dad getting all of his brothers and sisters together to make yet another announcement but when he stood up, someone shouted, “WE KNOW BOB, JOHNNIE IS PREGNANT!” So Dad just sat back down and they all burst into laughter not knowing what to make of it.
When you come from a large family any get together is a major event. For friends who are not familiar with the extended families, my dad had six brothers and two sisters, nine kids in all. And although my mom only had one sister, between the two of them, they had fourteen children, seven in each family. So any family event will no doubt be huge but that keeps life interesting. There is never a dull moment at Mom and Dad’s house.
I remember numerous get togethers when I was a little. Family reunions in the summer time and of course my favorite, the Christmas parties in the winter. Mom always got out the good dishes and the Christmas table cloth. The house looked like a hallmark store with all the decorations and the kitchen smelled incredible. She would spend hours baking cookies and candy so that all of her and Dad’s family could be together at Christmas. There was always a house full at these functions and we always had a great time.
My dad was quite the storyteller, telling stories about growing up with eight siblings. And let’s not forget the stories about his father, my papaw, whom they called Pader. Papaw liked his moonshine and had his own still. He used to keep my dad home from school to make moonshine while he was off getting drunk. He had numerous close calls with the law but he would just move the still to another location. As he got older, he became quite subdued. Mostly due to the shoebox full of pills that he washed down with a beer. His moonshine days were over only to be replaced with a cold beer.
Now Mom was totally different from Dad. She didn’t mind setting back and letting Dad have the spotlight. She was perfectly content staying home, chasing after little ones and making our house a home. She always cooked the most amazing food, like homemade bread and homemade spaghetti sauce. She made everything from scratch. I remember she always made homemade hot chocolate after we had been sleigh riding. What an incredible treat after playing in the snow. I can remember her making some of our clothes also. She even made matching dresses for us girls.
We grew up in a two story house on Hamilton Ave. We have a lot of good memories from that old house. We would get all the neighborhood kids together, the Bobst, Colette Conn, and anyone else we could find to join us. We would all dress up and have parades, as well as put on plays in our garage. We would make Mom and Mrs. Bobst come and pay a quarter to watch
We all worked together just as a family should. We raised a garden and everyone played a part. I can remember that old concrete picnic table, in the back yard, piled high with corn, tomatoes, and cucumbers, as well as many other things we had grown in our garden. Then the hard work began. Mom would can and freeze as much as possible so we had fresh vegetables for the winter. Dinner was always well orchestrated. We all took turns. I would peel potatoes, Karen would set the table, and Cathy would make the tea and mash the potatoes. There was no TV in the kitchen. Dinner time was family time and I loved that. It was one thing you could always count on. We all had chores to do also. We took turns doing dishes, washing and drying. Everyone helped out. Saturday was cleaning day. We divided up the chores, picking things up, vacuuming, dusting and cleaning the bathrooms. We were the true American family that so many kids long for today.
Karen and I were reminiscing about things like raising chinchilla’s. We had two hundred of them at one point. Now that was a chore. And then there were the times we would set around the kitchen, with a jar of cream, passing it back and forth, shaking it until it became homemade butter. What a treat. I still love butter today. We made ice cream floats on Friday nights. Mom would buy a six pack of Barq’s flavored sodas and we would all sit at the kitchen table and have family time. Then of course, there were the things we missed when we moved out. Such as waking up to Dad’s voice, singing outside at top of his lungs and the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen.
Mom and Dad shared the discipline and neither was a stranger to the paddle. None of us kids have forgotten the Plexiglas paddle Dad made for Mom. He even engraved (on it) Mommy’s “please do stick.” It definitely got results. Just to let you in on a little secret, we found the perfect hiding place for that foreboding piece of plastic. Then there were the dreaded words, “just wait till your Father get’s home.” We knew worse was yet to come. As we got older, Dad became more creative in his discipline. I remember once getting into a fight with my older brother Harry. We were only a year apart but he seemed to thrive on annoying me. Well, Dad got the brilliant idea to stop our fighting by making us spend the rest of the day side by side. And to make sure that happened he tied us together, opposite legs and opposite arms. I guess when you have seven children you have to get creative sometimes. The only time we could separate was to go to the bathroom. I was never so glad for a day to end. Talk about torture. I made it a point to get along with everyone for at least a week after that ordeal.
Since we could not afford to eat out we would get cheeseburgers from Burger Chef because they were only .39 on Tuesdays and watch Eight is Enough, a family favorite. Jenny remembers coloring Dad a picture, each time he went out of town to work, and putting it in his hat before she went to bed, knowing he would be gone when she woke up. She did not like the fact that her Daddy would be gone for an entire week.
On Sunday morning, Dad would take Jenny and Tom to Catechism at St. Monica’s in New Boston and drop them off. Since Josh was too young to go, Dad would take him to Toytown and let him play. He loved to watch the toy trains that were set up inside the store. Some of his favorite memories include Mom picking up her best friend Darlene and heading to Portsmouth to shop. They would always go to Marting’s and ride the elevator up to the third floor to buy candy at the candy store.
When the T.V. show Roots made its debut, Harry became curious about our heritage and wanted to know more. So Dad decided to take us on a road trip. My grandpa had told Dad we were originally from Virginia. So Mom and Dad decided to find out more. We drove to an area in Virginia that my Dad had heard about as a child and began our search. We saw historical signs with John Mullins’ name on it and began to stop at various small businesses and inquire about the Mullins’. We were given directions to the home of an elderly lady named Martha Mullins, after talking to her she recalled the birth of my grandfather. This was the beginning of many new discoveries about the family. Now when we have a Mullins reunion, you will find some of the people we met in Virginia still attend. Mom said it was a horrible trip because about all the kids got car sick. This was a first; it was usually only me that did that.
What is the recipe for 50 years of marriage, you ask? You will have to ask them but whatever it is they have the perfect recipe.
The years have taken there toll on both of them but their love endures. There was much laughter and tears throughout the years but that is how life was “at the happy little house at 4033.”
By: Marty Shuff
Aug. 15, 2009
