USJ 25th Anniversary – Part 4 - Visiting our Neighbors

 March 28, 2026 – Part 2

We returned to our room and got ready to catch the train to Takarazuka, where we had lived while we were in Japan.

Coming down in the elevator, a family got on. They had two boys. The younger one was dressed as Mario in blue overalls, red shirt, and big red Mario hat. The older boy was dressed as Harry Potter, complete with the robe, Gryffindor scarf, and round, black-rimmed glasses. He looked enough like the character to have played him. Yes, seeing their excitement reminded us why we spent close to three years building the park.

Our plan for the first day was to see our dear friend and neighbor, Misayo Igo, her daughter, Kazue, and her boyfriend, Takehiro Shigematsu.

We met Misayo-san and her husband, Akira, on the day in 1998 when we first looked at our mansion and decided it would be our home. (Those who have read our book, 31 Months in Japan: The Building of a Theme Park, will be familiar with her.) They owned a restaurant called Burger City just down the hill from our building. We were on our way to the airport to go home, and we needed to eat lunch. So, we stopped there.

Our relocation coordinator, Teri, told them we would be living in the building up the hill.

Misayo declared we would be friends. She wanted to learn English, and I wanted to learn Japanese. While we lived there, I spent quite a bit of time in the shop. I had my English-Japanese dictionary, and she had her Japanese-English one. But we didn’t rely on them. She used to describe it as communicating “heart to heart.” (Google Translate used the word “telepathy.”) We made lots of mistakes and laughed a great deal, but it made little difference. She was right. We did become good friends.

As soon as we knew we would be in Japan again, I contacted her. (Kazue is our translator.) Misayo always wants to set a date immediately for us to come for lunch.

So, this would be our first excursion on this visit.

We bought our train tickets and took the familiar route from the park to Takarazuka on three different trains. Fortunately, we had gone this way many times. However, some of the landmarks had changed. Only a few remained.

We got off at the JR Takarazuka Station—a new one since we lived there. We’d seen it two years ago and were amazed at the transformation.

As pre-arranged, Takehiro and Kazue picked us up in his car and drove us to the Igos’ condo. (We could have taken the bus, but they offered, so we agreed.) They live in the building right below ours, and we’d visited them often. We “shared” holidays with them. They joined us for the U.S. ones, and we joined them for the Japanese ones.

We entered, and Kazue called out to let her mother know we had arrived. She bustled out of the kitchen, ran to me with her arms open wide, and we hugged. It was as if no time had passed. We were once again best friends, and we were together.

Kazue had said we would go to a noodle shop for lunch because Misayo had prepared everything for shabushabu for dinner. Obviously, she wanted us to spend the entire day, and we were all for it!

We gave them the gifts we had brought. I had found a special scarf at Mission San Juan Capistrano. It had the swallows on it. We also gave them a copy of our book, Jewel of the Missions: San Juan Capistrano, because it is illustrated with beautiful paintings showing the mission.

They were delighted with these as well as the candle and Trader Joe’s bag.

She brought us a cup of tea, and we reminisced about all the good memories we had shared. I recalled going to Burger City and said how sad I was that it was gone. I also mentioned that her udon noodles were still my very favorite in the world. Next thing we knew, she had jumped up and started cooking them! Most udon noodles are cooked in fish broth. I don’t care for fish. She made hers in a vegetable broth, and they tasted fresh and really yummy!

So, instead of going to a noodle shop, we had Misayo’s udon right there.

I asked Kazue about her health. She had written that she’d had cancer, but that she was doing okay. Two years earlier, she had been diagnosed with uterine cancer. She had gone through chemotherapy and surgery. Her follow-up scans had been free of cancer cells. However, not long ago, her scan showed the cancer had returned. She was now doing two hours of chemotherapy three times a week. She said it drained her energy.

One of my dearest friends, Pat, had gone through something similar. But now, after the recurrence, she was doing well, and all signs of the cancer were gone again. No permanent guarantees, but she is busy living her best life. We talked about “chemo brain,” and I told her Pat said it was real. She didn’t realize it until she was through with her own chemo and could feel how much better she was able to think. I hoped hearing about someone else who had been through something similar would encourage her. I offered to put her in touch with Pat in case she had any questions.

They had met Pat’s daughter when she visited Japan. Our daughter, Kim, had come over with Tracy (our goddaughter) when she was fourteen. She and Kim had a great time. Kim had come the year before with my mother, and she had learned how to get around on the trains. On this second trip, she was fearless!

I told them that Tracy was getting married, and they were very excited for her.

After a while, Misayo suggested we drive around our old neighborhood, so we did.

Our building looks pretty much the same, but another building has been built on the other side of our parking structure. A big building now stands farther up the hill. And yet another new building is being built beyond the new one next to ours. The area is growing.

Many familiar places are gone, replaced by newer and more modern structures. The little strip mall and the post office remain, but most of the stores have changed. The Co-op where we shopped is still there.

We went on to Kiyoshikojin Seichoji Temple, the local shrine, where we had gone often.

The Saturday before we left for Japan, our church (Community Presbyterian of San Juan Capistrano) had a one-day women’s retreat. We had just installed a gorgeous labyrinth, and the retreat focused on it. We were given quite a few options on how we wanted to approach it, and the event ended with each of us walking the labyrinth. I had been very moved by the experience.

Being back at the temple gave me the same peaceful feeling I’d had after walking the labyrinth.

As we entered, it looked much like it had the first time we’d gone when we took my mother. Just like that time, the sakura (cherry blossoms) were in bloom. I looked at the same beautiful tree under which Mom had sat in her wheelchair, and the memory was very sweet. (We had borrowed the chair to make it easier for her to go some of the places we wanted her to see. This was one of them.)

We went up the hill to the main shrine, where we washed our hands and purified our mouths using the long-handled bamboo cups. Then we approached the shrine itself and threw a coin as an offering. We bowed twice, clapped twice, and bowed once again. Then we prayed silently. Mine was for healing for Kazue.

This temple has several shrines, so we went on to a few others and stopped to pray at each one.

Along the way, Kazue, Misayo, and I cast sticks for our luck. We received them on a slip of paper. I got the best one as did Misayo. All of our prayers and wishes would come true. Kazue’s was a bit different. She would get her desires, but they would take some time. I remembered what Larry had felt when Pat asked him to pray about her cancer. He said he felt she would fully recover, but it would take time, and it would be a hard journey. It’s exactly what happened. This felt like an echo of that moment.

At one place along the way, there was sand piled around a tree. It stood in in a sort of wrought iron cage. We were told if you uncovered five coins buried in the sand with the long stick provided, you would have good luck. You were to take them home, and when your wish was granted, you returned them back to the sand to bless someone else.

Larry found three immediately, but he didn't want to take them with him, since he would not be there to return them. However, Misayo-san uncovered one and gave it to him for good luck. He put it in his pocket.

A few of the altars (shrines?) were up lots of stairs (very Japanese!), and I declined to climb them. (My knees were doing very well, but I didn’t want to press my luck. I had gotten shots in my bad knee not long before we left home.) So, we walked around the grounds on the level area and waited for the others.

I had amazing moments of pure Zen while taking in the peace and beauty of the place. The sound of a gentle stream running downhill. The breeze blowing through the trees. The glimpse of a small but perfect garden through an open gate. Every glance held a photo opportunity, which I simply enjoyed without having to capture it. I knew they were etched in my memory.

We sat in the shade while the other three finished making all the rounds. Then we started to leave.

But Larry suddenly went back to the last shrine. We watched him toss his coin of offering, bow, clap, and bow his head.

I turned to Kazue. "He is saying a prayer for you." I don’t know how I knew, but I was sure.

When we got back home to California, I finally asked him about it. He said he just knew that was where his "lucky coin" from Misayo was supposed to be because the luck only works when you give it away. He loves this family as much as I do.

On the way back, we stopped at the Hankyu Takarazuka station for something to drink. It was still filled with shops of all kinds. I remembered taking my mother to a little English tea house there, but I thought it was long gone. However, it was still there after all these years.

There were quite a few people waiting, so Kazue suggested going to the new Takarazuka Hotel.

It is beautiful, very elegant, and brand new. Just off the lobby is a small dining area, where we found a table. I ordered a diet coke, and Misayo ordered a regular one. Larry, Kazue, and Takehiro ordered the sweet “set.” (This is what combos are called in Japan.) They each selected a dessert and coffee or tea.

Afternoon treat at the Hotel Takarazuka
Misayo, Larry, me, Kazue, Takehiro

We went back to their house and continued our reminiscences.

Just as when we had gone there with my mother and Kim years before, Misayo’s sakura tree was in bloom. We were assigned seats so that we could see the tree. Then Misayo brought over photos of her mother (whom I adored) and Akira. Both had passed away since we lived there, but she wanted them to share in our party.

She brought out the shabushabu pot and plugged it in. (Like sukiyaki, shabushabu is cooked at the table. Sukiyaki is cooked in a combination of shoyu or soy sauce, sake, and a little sugar. Shabushabu is cooked in water. Both include meat and lots of veggies.) Then she brought out platter after platter of food to be cooked.

Both are lovely ways to enjoy a meal. We each cooked our own food and truly enjoyed it. And all the time, we talked and laughed and remembered the good times we had shared.

Afterward, as she had each time we shared a meal at their house, Kazue sat down at her grand piano and played for us while we enjoyed the beauty of the tree outside of the window.

She played a Bach piece she said reminded her of the journey she was on. Afterward, I told her I could hear the tumult followed by slower, gentler sounds of rest and recovery. I understood why it spoke to her.

Then she played a lovely Dvořák piece. And she finished, as she had started on the evening we shared with Mom and Kim, with a “Fantasia on Sakura.” Toshi and Kae had also been with us that night, and this experience echoed that long ago evening. Now Kae was gone, but we would see Toshi in a couple of days when he joined us in Osaka.

All too soon, it was time for us to leave. Takehiro said he would drive us back to our hotel. We could have taken the train, but he insisted. Kazue came with us. They went out to bring the car to the door. Larry and I put on our shoes, and he went out to wait for the younger folks.

Misayo and I were left inside.

We hugged tightly, and she began to sob. I wept as well and held her close. I felt her sadness was more than just for our parting once again. I’d watched her being brave and confident for Kazue, but in that moment, being held by a friend, she was willing to let her anxiety show. Our embrace lasted a long while.

When we finally parted, I told her I loved her, and she said the same, although the words really weren’t necessary. Once more, our hearts connected in the same way they always have.

Just like when we left Japan for the last time as we returned home, Misayo did not want to go with us to the hotel. So, we said our farewells there.

Takehiro drove us right to the hotel, and we hugged Kazue and him goodbye.

It was a day full to the brim with blessings yet heartbreaking at the same time. It has taken me some time to process it, and I’m sure it will stay with me for a long while.

Celebration Delayed

 

Last night, we finally celebrated our 55^th anniversary with dinner at the Anaheim White House Restaurant. It has been a favorite since a friend recommended it to us nine years ago. Early in the pandemic, we decided to support our favorite restaurants. We bought a gift certificate from the White House for a future meal.

 

Because of this purchase, we have been receiving emails about their reopening for dining—outside and distanced.

 

This week, we received notification of their Restaurant Week menu. When I saw it, I suggested we use our gift certificate to belatedly celebrate our anniversary.

 

The actual date is September 4, but we were too busy to really celebrate. After a rough few week, we both needed a relaxing escape. The email was just the prompt to take a much-needed break.

 

I requested a reservation, and we got it right away. Of course, it was a week night, so we didn’t have much concern. (There were quite a few others there—masked and distanced outside.) This menu is only active through Saturday.

 

We arrived a bit early because we had expected more traffic than we encountered. We valet parked the car and walked to the entrance, where we had our temperatures taken and used hand sanitizer.

 

Even though we were early, we were seated at a lovely table near the fountain. The weather was spectacular—comfortable with a light breeze and clear skies. (No smoke from the fires remained in the air.)

 

Our waiter, James, brought us water, and we just relaxed and enjoyed their playlist of older Italian songs. We finally relaxed and relished the evening and being together.

 

I know you want to hear about the food, and we would be remiss if we didn’t talk about it. (We neglected to take pictures of it as it arrived.) Each course was set in front of us, and then an ultraviolet light was wafted over the plate—additional precaution.

 

For our appetizer we both chose the Tempura Artichoke Hearts. Delicious! As we always expect, the presentation was beautiful. I tried to pace myself, so Larry “helped” finish mine.

 

For the salad course, we decided to order one of each. Larry had the mixed greens with a terrific passion fruit and ginger vinaigrette. I chose the Caesar salad. Both were served, once again beautifully, in an edible rice paper container.

 

As we were finishing our salads, the song “Walk Hand in Head” came on the playlist. Most people probably don’t remember it, but I have always loved it, and it was sung at our wedding. As Larry said, “Another nice anniversary gift.”

 

By the time our entrée arrived, live music by a singer with guitar began. He was delightful.

Actually, the entrée was the main reason I wanted to go. I adore Chicken Cordon Bleu, and it was included. It said it was served with “seasonal vegetables.” In this case, it was butternut squash puree. Absolutely fantastic.

Larry had a tougher decision. He finally settled on the Salmon Chocolat. (I suspect it was the promise of sweetness that won him over.) It was served with white chocolate mashed potatoes. He let me taste, and they were very good—and sweet—but I preferred my own meal.

Once again, Larry volunteered to “help” with mine. Because it was a generous portion, I just couldn’t finish it. He enjoyed both our entrées.

Of course, there was dessert. We consider ourselves somewhat expert on Crème Brule. During both our trips to France, we compared this delight throughout the country. (We decided the restaurant near the Eiffel Tower had the best.) Last night’s was equally delicious—creamy with crisp brûléed sugar on the top.

To our surprise, we also received a lovely “extra” for our anniversary. (We brought it home to eat later. (It probably won’t last out the day today!)

We had a wonderful evening and a genuinely joyous celebration.

How can it be fifty-five years? it has gone by far too quickly, but both of us would do it all again!

50th Anniversary 9/5/2015 Casey’s Thoughts

I recently went through the photos of our 50th anniversary and created a video of the celebration and party. (September 5, 2015. Most photos by Heather Taylor) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qeuEBcKPNXg 

I also found the audio recording of the ceremony. I have now transcribed each of our speeches. This last one is from my brother-in-love, Casey Collins.

I’m Casey, Larry Collins’s brother. To you, it’s an introduction, but to me it’s a title, and it’s a title I’ve always been really proud of. Larry mentioned we grew up in an awesome family. Our parents were terrific. There is quite a span in age between Larry and me. Because of the war, WWII, and a few other issues, I was seven years younger.

Casey 2 & Larry 9

Larry 12 & Casey 5

Larry was always there to take care of me. I was the tag-along. He would let me go with him and was incredibly kind and amazingly nice to me because I wasn’t always someone to be nice to. We had a really, really close relationship. He introduced me at an early age to surfing and skateboarding and motorcycle riding, all kinds of great activities.

Surfers circa 1969

Larry didn’t have a lot of girlfriends. Most of them weren’t interested in having his little brother hang out with them. So, I kind of got pushed to the side.

Lorna was different, and that’s why she’s my favorite. She was the one who let me tag along with them when Larry went surfing and when they went to the movies and activities. She was awesome. She didn’t separate me from my brother.

Larry saved my life in the ocean one time. I think he probably saved a lot of lives.

I wanted to mention how Lorna gained my respect. Larry was a surfer, and surfing isn’t the glamorous, beach party thing. When they were married, Lorna would go with us early in the morning to the beach. We lived in Alhambra, so we were always going to Santa Barbara or San Diego to surf. She earned my respect by the way she handled it.

For example, we would leave the house at oh-dark-thirty in the morning because we had a one-hour or two-hour drive to get to the specific surfing spot where we wanted to go before it got light. We surfed both in the winter and the summer, so the conditions could be a bit rough. The beaches we went to were either covered in rocks or the sand was full of seaweed and flies. Lorna would record us surfing on 8mm film. Then she would sit in the car and read.

About ten o’clock, the sun would start to break through to make a pretty day at the beach. This was about the time we’d load up the car and head back home because we were done for the day. It seemed so difficult for her to do, but she never complained.

When I was fifteen-and-a-half, I got my learner’s permit. I was allowed to drive with my brother because he had a license. So, I was allowed to drive on our surf trips. Lorna had a Ford T-bird, and she would let me drive it to the beach.

[Here is a video--from old home movies―of all of us going to the beach together with Casey driving: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPyrJaJ4zF8 ~Lorna]

Somewhere in there, I gained a sister, because she was really great.

As a couple, they faced some challenges. Our family was so close, but no matter where it was—Chicago or Denver or later on Japan—they had to leave their friends and family, pack up Kimberly, and off they would go. I think it was actually great for them. They had no one else to rely on but each other. They really built a strong relationship at that point.

Then, they were apart a lot. Larry was in Turkey and Alaska and other places where he spent weeks on business. It kept him away from Lorna, but it made them stronger.

They were always kind to each other. They were always encouraging. They enjoyed each other’s company wherever they went. It’s still obvious they like each other a lot.

Fifty years ago, at Marengo Avenue Methodist Church, they made a vow that they would love, honor, and cherish each other. I know God smiled at that time. Not because of that moment, but because of this moment.

September 4, 1965 - Family

It’s fifty years later, they kept that vow. And they are ready to renew it again. It’s something to be proud of. Congratulations on fifty years, and we love you both.

September 5, 2015

50th Anniversary - Kathleen’s Thoughts 9/5/2015

I recently went through the photos of our 50th anniversary and created a video of the celebration and party. (September 5, 2015. Most photos by Heather Taylor) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qeuEBcKPNXg 

I also found the audio recording of the ceremony. I have now transcribed each of our speeches. I'll share the last one with you next week.

My dearest friend, Kathleen Murphy Stewart, was my maid-of-honor when we were married in September of 1965. She loathed speaking in public, but she made an exception for the occasion of the celebration of our 50^th anniversary. Her husband said she practiced for two days ahead of the ceremony. She did a good job. It was wonderful hearing her voice again when we listened to the recording. We lost her a few weeks ago, and I miss her.

Chapter 1

There is a thief among us. This thief has stolen from each of us, all of us, has stolen the same thing, the same exact amount from each of us. But this thief is known to all of us, and all too frequently, never missing a visit and never missing an opportunity to steal.

No, this is not one of Lorna and Larry’s novels. As true yesterday, today, and tomorrow, the name of that thief is time. Time steals from all of us. Time steals many things, but it can never steal the most important things. Time cannot steal our friendships. Time cannot steal our memories, locked in our hearts.

Try as it might, time leaves friendship and memories untouched because these alone rest in our hearts and stay with us, despite the ravages of time.

Lorna and I have been friends for three-score-and-seven years. We share our friendship and many memories, and the thief cannot break in and steal them from us. Our shared memories stand as the foundation of our relationship.

Chapter 2

There was blood. The blood will flow. The blood was shed. The blood will incriminate. The blood will not be washed away. Perry Mason can’t make blood disappear. Columbo will find it. Sherlock Holmes will deduce it. Sam Spade will slip on it. But the blood will not be stolen from the thief of time.

This is not another novel in progress, believe me. But Lorna and I were the best of the best of friends, living two houses apart growing up from before kindergarten and into college.

One time, we really did draw blood. We obtained a sewing needle and stuck ourselves. We mixed our blood. At once we were thrilled because we became blood sisters. True sisters at last. We’d always been sisters in our hearts, but now, we were truly sisters.

Back: Eileen, Karen, Dennis, Kathy, Lorna, Suzanne, David, Diane, Kathleen

Front: Ron, Jan, John

Chapter 3

Lorna and I were together through all seasons. We did what best friends do: we rode bikes, roller-skated, played Monopoly, and had a good time all year ‘round. Especially here in California where the weather is so nice.

Chapter 4

The eternal triangle was based on many stories, was written about in many books, and was the basis of many movies. Lorna, Larry, and I were sort of a triangle. But not the one you think.

Larry and I went from kindergarten through high school together. At our high school graduation, Larry comforted me by holding my hand as I tearfully wished those days would not end.

More recently, he kept my chair from sliding down the slope at my mother’s graveside service.

Chapter 5

You’ve already heard how I got them got together at the football game.

A half century ago, I was their maid of honor. After the wedding, I used all my athletic skills and jumped as high as I could for the bridal bouquet. I was pretty athletic, but I still missed it. But perhaps I caught Lorna and Larry’s wishes for me because just two weeks later, I was engaged. And the next year, I was married with Lorna serving as my matron-of honor.

Sherry Ellen Van Clief (Cowell), Patty Hair, Claudia Sue McGee (Gates), Kathleen, Lorna

My husband is here, and we just celebrated our forty-ninth. Our fiftieth is coming up. Thank the Lord.

To bring these remarks to a close and bring you up to date, I must relate that during most of my life, I have been only an occasional reader. I read their first effort, 31 Months in Japan. But then I read The Memory Keeper, and now I have read all of their published books. This activity has made me a voracious reader. I have read more in this last year than I did in previous years. My Kindle, which is packed with books, is never far from me.

So, now I give thanks, not only for the friendship and memories of my true sis, Lorna, and longtime and all-around buddy, Larry, but their gift of adding the value of dimension to my life.

September 5, 2015 Bill, Larry, Kathleen, Lorna

50th Anniversary Celebration - Lorna’s Thoughts 9/5/2015

I recently went through the photos of our 50th anniversary and created a video of the celebration and party. (September 5, 2015. Most photos by Heather Taylor)  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qeuEBcKPNXg 

I also found the audio recording of the ceremony. I have now transcribed each of our speeches, and I'll share them with you for the next three weeks. Here is mine. Larry's was last week.

It was a gift to marry into Larry’s family. It truly was. They knew how to do love, and they demonstrated it freely. Like he said, there was never an outsider—ever.

He’s not the only one with a history of long marriage. Today with us, are my aunt and uncle, Evelyn and Frank George. My aunt is my mother’s youngest sister. Two weeks ago, they celebrated their seventy-second wedding anniversary. So, I had some really good modeling, too.

Frank & Evelyn – 75^th Anniversary

About the time I was thirteen, Aunt Evie and I went from niece and aunt to good friends, and she is one of my favorite playmates. We have always had the best time with them.

When I was going through our wedding book a week or so ago, I found this really terrible poem. And I have to apologize. It I got it in a contest today, I’d throw it out. But it was there, and it’s what I wrote when I was eighteen. So please forgive me, but I thought it was fun to find it, so here it is.

Two young people at Alhambra High,

He was a junior. A freshman was I.

We dated awhile, and then no more.

I thought we were parted forever, for sure.

But two years later, by accident,

It seemed as though we were heaven-sent,

We met one day at the Miracle Mart,

And on February thirteenth, our romance had its start.

A ring on the phone

For a Valentine’s dance

At Cal Poly School,

And my answer was, “Yes.”

Now just two years later,

His ring I am wearing,

And after September,

His life I’ll be sharing.

This was from July of 1965.

About a week ago I heard from my—I won’t say “oldest” but “longest”―friend. (I’ve known Kathleen since I was two. She was my maid of honor.) She asked, “How did that sequence of stuff go when you met? She was there for all of it, but it was hard to keep it in order. So, I wrote it down for her, and I thought maybe some of you would be interested. So, here it is.

Larry and I saw one another and knew who the other was at Marguerita Elementary School. He used to deliver Avon on his bicycle for his mother, Letha, so my mother knew him, too. She was in love with him from the time he was a little boy and stayed in love with him until the day she died.

The summer before I started Alhambra High School, we were at Crestline at Club St. Moritz at the same time. My mother formally introduced us there, but at that time, Larry had a girlfriend.

In the fall of 1960, my freshman year in high school, I went to a football game with my best friend, Kathleen. She really wanted to sit with Tom Dixon, who was a guy she was kind of going with at the time. So, we met him there since he didn’t drive. At the game, Kathleen sat next to Tom, and I sat next to her.

At halftime, Larry joined us in the stands, and he sat down next to me. My hands were really icy, so he put them in his jacket pocket and kept them warm.

I’d had a crush on him since I was about twelve, but he had no idea who I was. His mother knew I had a crush on him, but he was clueless. Now that I was fourteen, he kind of caught on. (He has admitted the Collins men are kind of clueless.) it took him a while.

We all decided we’d go out for cokes after the game. Of course, both Kathleen and I had to call our parents. This was in the days when there were pay phones, and there was one at Moor Field where the game was held. My mother only agreed to let me go (keep in mind, I was only fourteen) because she adored Larry, and Kathleen was going to be along.

So, we went to a burger place called Yankee Doodle’s and we had cokes.

A couple of weeks later, the guys asked us to go to the drive-in to see Swiss Family Robinson. Since Tom and Kathleen sat in the backseat, I’m not sure whether they actually watched the movie or not. I can tell you those of us in the front seat did. Part of it is because Larry, by his own admission, is kind of cheap, and he didn’t want to pay for a movie he didn’t see. So, there we were.

A couple of weeks later, we all went to the San Gabriel Theater to see Cinderfella. After we dropped off Tom and Kathleen, Larry walked me to the door, and he asked if he could kiss me goodnight. Of course, I said yes.

He attended my family’s New Year’s Eve party, and when we came home, he started to kiss me, but I stopped him. That was because my grandmother was sleeping in the living room, and my grandmother was kind of an enforcer. I figured she was probably looking out the window, and I knew there would be heck to pay if she saw me kissing a boy. But he didn’t know why. I thought I’d really hurt his feelings.

I didn’t hear from him for a while, but I heard from friends he’d actually gone back to his old girlfriend. It turns out, she’d gotten sick, and he felt she needed him. It’s a pretty good recommendation for him as a person, but I wasn’t happy. In fact, it took me months to get over losing him.

Fast forward to February of 1963. Kathleen and I walked over to Crawford’s Miracle Mart, directly behind my house. It was a great store. They carried almost everything. We ran into Larry. I’d heard his girlfriend had broken up with him a few months earlier because he wasn’t exciting enough. That was good for me. I was going with someone else at the time, but we were fighting a lot, and I could see the handwriting on the wall.

Larry bought us ice cream and then drove us home. He dropped Kathleen at her house and then accepted my invitation to come in for some fresh chocolate chip cookies I’d baked earlier. See, even then I knew the way to get his interest was through food. Hasn’t changed at all.

Over tea and cookies, we talked until after dark. (My mother joined us.) When he left, I knew something important had changed.

At about nine, he called, and we talked for another hour. He finally asked me to the Valentine’s Day dance at Cal Poly, Pomona, where he was a student. I said yes, of course. Later on, he told me he’d picked up the phone several times before he actually made the call because he sensed it would be important to his future.

Valentine’s Dance 1963

During the evening, I marveled at how at ease I felt with him and how much fun I was having. The dance definitely confirmed my relationship with the other guy was over.

Two and a half years later, we were married.

Larry’s 50th Anniversary Thoughts – 9/5/2015

I recently went through the photos of our 50th anniversary and created a video of the celebration and party. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qeuEBcKPNXg

I also found the audio recording of the ceremony. I have now transcribed each of them, and I'll share them with you for the next four weeks, starting with Larry's.

When I was growing up, I didn’t realize what a fabulous family I had. Lorna clued me in on this when she joined it. Not just my parents, who were wonderful, but the grandparents, the aunts, the uncles, the cousins. It was a family where everybody liked each other, and everyone wanted to be together. Kind of amazing, and family meant everything.

My grandparents, Tom and Olive Collins, set the tone. They were North Dakota farmers. They had six children, four boys and two girls. When my dad was eight (he was the youngest), he’d had pneumonia twice, and the doctor said he would not survive another North Dakota winter. So, in the winter of 1925, they literally sold the farm (they were farmers), loaded everyone, including grandfather Halliday, into a Model A Ford and Chevrolet touring car, and they drove from North Dakota to California because it was warmer. Why? Because that’s what family did.

Crossing Texas

Family dinners were the glue that held us together for a long time. It doesn’t mean communication always worked. Collins men tend to be somewhat clueless. Lorna can attest to that. Kim can, too.

For example, in 1926, the family was enjoying dinner. The oldest son, Clark, said, “Mama, tomorrow you’re going to lose your baby boy.” Granny said, “Why? Are you going somewhere?” He said, “No. I’m getting married.” In twelve hours, Granny had organized the garden wedding, enlisted the local pastor because a justice of the peace just wouldn’t do, and cooked the dinner for all the guests who attended. And Lura joined the family.

With Granny, there was no such thing as in-laws. If you were there, you were family. In fact, it was really hard for a stranger to tell who was family and who were in-laws. You really couldn’t tell when you came to visit.

Until my grandfather died, every Sunday after church, the whole family met at my grandparents’ house for dinner. Now, you have to remember, this was six kids, their spouses, their children, and any friends who showed up, plus anyone else who happened to wander by. There were forty-to-forty-five people there every Sunday for dinner.

Granny was a fabulous cook and she loved doing it. In later years, we had to convince her to go potluck. From then on, we did, but always at their house.

They were married for sixty-three years. I was ten years old at their fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration. It was so big it made the newspaper―a half-page spread with pictures. Of the six kids, five were married, four were married longer than sixty years, and Clark and Lura were married for more than seventy years. There were a lot of anniversary celebrations and other events.

Tom & Olive’s 50^th Anniversary – Clark, Francis, Wanda, Olive, Tom, June, Wayne, Murl

At those Sunday dinners, I remember singing. If the guys weren’t playing poker for matchsticks in the other room, the boys sang. A friend of Granny’s said, “All of Ollie’s boys can sing.” They sang four-part harmony around the pump organ.

My folks carried on the tradition of putting family first. On weekends at the mobile home in Dana Point, we all got together and ate dinner. My folks, Murl and Letha, celebrated their sixtieth anniversary right downstairs where we’ll all be in a few minutes. We had a wonderful party for them. They were married sixty-seven years, and they loved each other every single day.

60^th Anniversary – Letha and Murl

So, for Lorna and me, at fifty years, we’re kind of loping along. We have a way to go to catch up, which we plan to do. We had a family who showed us the way to do it, for which I am eternally grateful.

Next week: Lorna's thoughts

Fifty-four Years And Still Counting

I have repeated some of what I wrote four years ago on our 50^th anniversary.

On September 4, Larry and I celebrated our 54^th wedding anniversary. It sounds like a long time, even though it seems like yesterday.

Through the years, we’ve been asked how we’ve managed to stay together all these years and still like each other. We usually quote Lorenzo Music. You may remember him as the voice of ‘Carleton, your doorman’ on the Rhoda show or the voice of Garfield, the cat. Years ago, he and his wife were interviewed on a talk show, When they were asked the same question, their answer was, “Low expectations.”

Of course, everyone laughed. But the more we thought about it, the more truth we heard in it. Our expectations often get us in trouble. We set them too high, and then we’re disappointed when they aren’t met. By keeping them lower, we are pleasantly surprised when things work out better than we expected.

Another quote we loved on long marriages came from Robert Mitchum. When asked about his long marriage, he attributed it to “lack of imagination.” We always thought this statement contained an element of truth.

Our low expectations or lack of imagination or the great modeling we had in our families, with many members demonstrating the value of long marriages, may have contributed to our own. Or perhaps we just managed to find the right partner early in life.

We continue to travel and write together. Larry still makes me laugh. So we’ve renewed the contract for another year.

We’re both grateful to have had this time together. I can’t imagine being with anyone else. He’s still a surfer, and sometimes I think of the ocean (and his board) as his mistress. But I knew what I was getting into all those years ago.

And I wouldn’t change a thing!