E. Marion and H. Rosa Wilcox
My grandparents planned their wedding and selected to have it at the Windfall United Methodist Church (to which my grandfather is still a member to this day). The night before the wedding, all the flowers and decorations were placed, and my grandparents parted, looking forward to their union the next day.
During the night, alarm bells rang. The church had caught fire and burned to the ground. Little more than a hymnal had been saved.
Grandma was given the choice. She could wait until the church was rebuilt, put the wedding off for several months.
Her response? She had nearly lost my grandfather once by letting him go; she wasn't going to put him off again.
They married at the East Canton United Methodist Church that day. Seven children, ten grandchildren, and twelve great-children were the result of their loving union.
Years ago, while I was in college, my grandfather had both knees replaced, each knee done separately over two consecutive summers. I got to be their chauffeur, which meant I got to spend nearly every day of the summer with them.
Decades of marriage never dimmed their love for each other. I remember with fondness the way that Grandpa would tease Grandma, just to hear her sputter. Then, he would laugh with such love. Grandma showed me all the Valentine cards he had ever given her, each one sweeter and more romantic than the previous one...