Editor’s note: Dennis and Patricia Young of rural Jamaica (Greene County) celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary on St Patrick’s Day. Their story is a unique one, beginning as pen pals from two different countries.
The Youngs didn’t want any big celebration. They preferred to observe the anniversary with family and friends. Their daughter, Jennifer, interviewed them and wrote this story about their lives and marriage. We’re happy to share it with our readers because it’s a love story that began with a single letter in 1968.
~by Jennifer Young
It all started with a letter dated October 10, 1968.
“A buddy of mine gave me your name and address and told me you might be interested in writing to someone in Vietnam,” it read.
My dad wrote that letter after hearing from a fellow soldier in Vietnam that a group of nursing school students in Ontario, Canada, wanted to connect with soldiers. He was six months into his 20 month-long deployment to Vietnam, after having been drafted in 1967.
The writing offered a good distraction to the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded him.
My mom was one of those nursing school students. She was two years into her three-year program when she wrote back. She doesn’t remember what she said, and my dad didn’t keep all the letters like my mom did.
Whatever she wrote, it was interesting enough to keep on writing.
My mom and dad continued their pen pal relationship for another two years. They even exchanged photos. My dad sent Mom a picture of himself in front of a tank – and another photo in front of his barracks.
My mom sent a photo of herself standing in one of those quaint towns along the shores of Lake Huron.
When Dad’s tour of duty ended, he moved back home to Rippey, and continued to write. International phone calls were so expensive, they had no other option.
In one of their exchanges, they wrote of meeting one another.
The wedding of one of Mom’s closest friends and nursing school classmates offered the perfect opportunity.
It was September of 1970 when my dad boarded a flight to Toronto. In his last letter before that trip, he wrote “I’ll be the short blonde-haired fellow with the beer gut,” and referenced bringing his suit that he usually wore for sad occasions.
Despite the humorous description, Mom still took that first photo to the airport with her – the one of that short blonde-haired fellow in front of the army tank – just to make sure she could spot him.
When she saw him, she remembers thinking he was cute. The same day he flew in, my mom took Dad to a party where they shared their first kiss.
My dad stayed for a week. He later reflected on the trip, writing how great he thought my grandparents were and thanking them for their kindness.
In all, Mom received 74 letters. She still has them to this day, much to the chagrin of my dad. Maybe someday he’ll let us read them, but I get the sense he doesn’t want us to.
Mom eventually moved to Iowa after a few years of trading visits. Her brother Ken was her chauffeur. At one point he threatened to turn around because Mom was crying so hard – obviously emotional about leaving her family and moving 800 miles away from home.
Their wedding took place on St. Patrick’s Day in St. Patrick’s Church. It was a beautiful, clear Saturday with no snow, only sunshine.
Two days later they each went to work, starting their regular routines. The years that followed brought kids, grandkids and countless visits back “home” to Canada.
Ideally, this anniversary story would end with the last line of that last letter, but my mom won’t reveal what it says. So – I’m left to make it up.
I think my dad wrote – “I know a great place where we can settle down. It reminds me of the tropics.”
And that’s just what they did.
Postmarked Jamaica, IA.
Cheers to you Mom and Dad on your 50th anniversary!
