My high school sweetheart, Les and I set our nuptials for August 12, 1978. Let me begin by stating that on our chosen wedding date the temperature soared. Couple that with the extremely high humidity Central Illinois is known for, and well, use your imagination on the condition of my hair!

The ceremony proceeded on time, despite soaring temperatures inside the non-air conditioned church. Finally, the moment I had waited for arrived… I was a blushing bride (due in part to the aforementioned temperature). The minister turned Les and I around, introducing us to our family and friends. One small glitch… he had forgotten my husband’s surname of ‘Howie’. He proudly proclaimed us as Mr. And Mrs. Wright (my maiden name, of course). Technically I guess Les and I were pioneers in the liberation movement! No harm, no foul.

Upon leaving the church I noticed someone painted ‘suggestive’ slogans and innuendoes on our rusted 1965 aquamarine Impala – like owning the car wasn’t embarrassment enough in itself! We stayed an obligatory length of time at our small reception and then left on our honeymoon. Bear in mind we were both eighteen years old, dumb, naive and flat broke. We were on our merry way to go camping!

We made a pit stop at the nearest drugstore for ‘protection’ (no, we weren’t part of a crime family!) And, true to the sitcom scenarios, a price check on our purchase was required! Mortified, we paid for our purchase and left the ‘scene of the crime’.

Finally the main attraction! We arrived at the campground in the wee morning hours. The campsite was located in an old quarry and we discovered that Les’ father’s pickup truck takes steep inclines much, much easier than a beat-up heap of a car. After several death-defying attempts, Les maneuvered the car to the camper. (This is the part where I exit car stage right and kiss the ground).

In all the planning and excitement Les failed to mention the camper (henceforth known as hot tin can) had no bathroom! Okay, I’m dealing with the situation as best as possible… Did I mention the bed (I use the term loosely) was two inches of foam atop a hard platform? And did I mention that even at the tender age of eighteen I had a bad back?

Fast forward… thirty-two years later and we are still married – proud parents of a daughter and son, and even prouder grandparents of our three grandsons, Brandon, Kaleb and Alexander. The events surrounding our wedding / honeymoon disaster are true (no names were changed to protect the innocent)and were just a precursor to the luck (or should I say – lack, thereof) throughout our marriage. Facing problems together from the onset of our union has made us stronger people. We realized early on that problems will always exist and it’s critical as to how you deal with the situation together as a team. We look back now and laugh. At the time it was happening we thought we would ‘just die’, but you know what? We survived after all! Something that brings two people as close together as it has me and my hubby can’t be all bad, now can it?