It was 43
years ago when I went to the courthouse in Huntsville, Alabama to get our
marriage license. I was 18 so I could
sign for myself. But David was 20, and
in the State of Alabama at that time, the groom had to be 21 to sign for
himself.
So there I
was with David’s father, who was going to sign for him. David wasn’t even there because he was in
school in Birmingham, about 100 miles away.
We were in
line with four or five couples ahead of us when I became aware of some of the
clerks looking at Gus and I, kinda whispering, then looking, whispering, then
looking. I was sure they were talking
about us, and I was right.
When we got
to the counter and Gus explained that he was there to sign for his son, the
clerk sighed and said, “Oh, we thought the two of you were getting married.”
Well, I was
absolutely shocked and outraged and righteously indignant. The thought that somebody imagined me
marrying this old man was appalling! Years
later, I realized that he was in his mid 40’s at the time.
Somehow that
doesn’t seem so old now.
