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A Love Story

 

I spent three years, one month and eight days during World War II in the southwest Pacific in Australia, New Guinea, and the Philippine Islands. It left me with three years of unpleasant memories. 

I returned to the States in March 1945 and two weeks after arriving at my new assignment at Page Field, Ft. Myers, Florida, I began the start of 67 years of wonderful memories.

Seventy years ago I asked Jonnie to be My Jonnie. She had a weekend off and I got a weekend pass and we went to Miami. I got to a hotel on Miami Beach, went up to the desk and told him we needed two singles. He looked, turned around and said: "Haven't got any singles, got lots of doubles." Told him we can"t use a double, got to have two singles. Looked again, finally turned around and said: "Why can't you use a double?" I told him "Damn it we're not married." He gave us two doubles for the price of singles. I guess they were used to G.I.s coming in and "shacking up" for the weekend. 

That night we ate and danced at their Night Club. Sunday morning we got to Mass and Sunday afternoon we swam in the hotel pool. Sunday night we boarded the bus and headed back to Ft. Meyers. On the bus that night I asked her to marry me. Without any hesitation, her answer was yes, although we had only known each other for two months. I didn't know it at the time but she had two G.I.s in Denver and a home town boy in Kansas wanting to marry her. 

I was planning to go to a six-month Photography School in NYC after the war and when I finished it, we would get married. On August 6, 1945, we dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima and on August 9, a second one on Nagasaki, bringing an end to WW II. 

Jonnie asked for a transfer to Jacksonville Airport and got it. They sent me to Camp McCoy, Wisconsin for discharge. We rode the train together to Jacksonville where I kissed her goodbye. On September 5, they handed me an Honorable Discharge and sent me on my way. I got to NYC mid-October hoping to start school but found I couldn't get in a class until Jan. 1946. I went back to Fla. and we decided not to wait.

During the 7:30 morning mass on December 10, 1945, Jonnie's boss walked her down the aisle and we got married. We had only known each other for seven months, neither of us had ever met any of the other's family and none of either family was at the wedding. I'm sure there were some in both families that figured the marriage would never last but it did; 67 years and one day. We just knew that we were made for each other. Thanks to a Merciful God and an ever-vigilant Guardian Angel, I survived three years of the war in the southwest Pacific and He had Jonnie waiting for me at Page Field. 

In January 1946, I did start school in NYC and Jonnie got a transfer to LaGuardia Field she had requested. She supported me while I went to school. We did enjoy our six months in the "Big Apple," did our share of sightseeing, baseball at Yankee Stadium and dinners at a quaint little Chinese Restaurant near my school - before settling down to raising a family.

It's a good thing we were young and worry-free at the time. The first month we were there we lived in a room in upper Manhattan, a long way from LaGuardia over in Flushing. When Jonnie pulled the 3 to 11 shift, she would have to ride buses and the Subway alone for over an hour. I would meet her at the station after midnight and we'd walk to our room. Then we got a room out in Flushing that was about a 20-minute bus ride to LaGuardia. It's a good thing in 1946 our society was a little more civilized. I wouldn't think of doing that today.

It has now been two and a half years since the Good Lord took her home, and I still miss her something fierce. But when I go to bed every night I think about how blessed I was that He let Jonnie be "My Jonnie" for 67 years and one day, and give Him my everlasting, heartfelt thanks.