Whoever said, “Old age is not for sissies” really knew whereof he spoke. It is enough to have to endure the “aches and pains of outrageous fortune,” but there are other aspects even worse. I am writing, of course, about the loss of friends and family. It is a repeated and wretched pain to have to keep giving up people you love. I am also writing with feeling from recent experience, losing both a family member and some friends.
One experience with friends might offer, however, a few smiles to readers. I think Doug and I shared with this couple a unique experience, part of our honeymoons. It was brief, but still heartwarming to me.
Dr. George “Shug” Welch and Betty Ruth Hardin were married the evening before Doug and I were. They had decided on their wedding date before we did; so of course we adjusted the time of our wedding accordingly. They had chosen to be married on a Saturday evening, July 7. We had to have our wedding the same weekend, because in those days we had to select a time court would not be in session. (Court was not available at all times back then.) Therefore, we chose late afternoon on Sunday, July 8.
It was to be a fortunate substitute, as it turned out. The bright late afternoon summer sunlight filtered through the wooden louvered shutters of First Methodist Church, giving a beautiful golden glow to the nave and sanctuary. In those pre-air conditioned days it was still hot, but it was lovely. (One friend quipped that we were not wed, we were welded.)
We two couples had choreographed the activities so as not to conflict any more than necessary. We had our rehearsal and dinner early (actually about the same time the wedding would take place the next day.) We did that so that our group could finish in time to attend their wedding. They set the time of their wedding late enough for us to arrange that. Then, after their reception, we continued our celebration by going out afterward as a wedding party.
They spent two or three nights in New Orleans, then moved to Panama City, Florida, where they had met.
We married late that Sunday afternoon and went to Jackson, where we stayed in the old, then “elegant” Heidelberg Hotel. The next day we, too, went to New Orleans. By prearrangement we met the Welchs for dinner at Antoine’s. The next day, when they went east, we went west with our final destination Mexico City.
We had decided on that place in a strange way. We had figured out how far we could afford to drive for the honeymoon. Then we took the kind of compass you use for geometry and put the point on Columbus on a map. We set the radius a little bit short of the halfway point in how far we thought we could easily afford to drive and drew a circle. To our surprise our circle included Mexico City, so we made that our romantic destination. Of course we drove a lot, but we never left for a leg of our journey before 10 a.m. at the earliest, and we always stopped early. At nearly every place we stayed we were serenaded by small musical groups who had found out we were honeymooners. It was very romantic.
All this is to explain why the four of us as young couples would laugh and tell people we shared a part of our honeymoons.
We were good friends,
“Shug” Welch and Doug now have been long gone. Last week we buried Betty Ruth. I am the only one of the foursome left. I will miss them as long as I live.
Betty Boyls Stone is a freelance writer, who grew up in and lives in Columbus.
The Dispatch Editorial Board is made up of publisher Peter Imes, columnist Slim Smith, managing editor Zack Plair and senior newsroom staff.
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