I was 24 years old when I moved to Long Beach, California, where my parents managed the Alberta Apartments. I arrived the day after Thanksgiving 1947, and while I was moving in, I ran into four girls from Montana who were also living there.
One of the girls immediately caught my eye, and I knew I had to introduce myself. Her name was Alice Conlon and she was on her way to the library to return a book.
Not wanting to let this opportunity pass me by, I fibbed and told her I’d been wanting to read the same book, and asked if I could join her. She agreed, and we stopped for a drink afterward. Before long, I knew she was the one for me!
Between the library and the bar, I’d picked up an alarm clock so I wouldn’t be late for my first day of work the next morning. It started to get late, so I set my new alarm for 30 minutes to remind me that I needed to leave the bar soon. Well, I set the alarm several more times; I just wasn’t ready to end our first date.
A year later we were married—on Thanksgiving Day. We enjoyed 56 wonderful years of marriage before the love of my life passed away in 2005. I miss her every day.