Four Dollar Wedding

It was the fall of the year 1932 and group of young people were ambling down a road and spending the evening together talking of local events and people they knew.  One topic of discussion that came up was the elopement of a young girl that had been engaged to another man, and another was one of the ladies bemoaning the fact that her husband had forgotten their wedding anniversary.  Amid this group of young people were two people that would come to have great significance in my life.  One was a young woman of 20 years named Vera, and the other was a young man of 21 years named David.

David overheard Vera talking with one of her friends and, as the topic revolved around marriage and anniversaries, she made the comment that she never wanted to be engaged.  She made the statement that if a reasonable looking fellow showed up with a license and the next day was New Year's day, she might just consider getting married, because then if he forgot the day, at least she would have reason to celebrate anyway.

Being small town, South Dakota in the depression, much of the entertainment for the young crowd included spending time together in the evenings, talking, dancing, and catching a movie when one could afford to.  David and Vera had spent several such evenings together, but no formal discussion of marriage had ever come up.

Vera was working as a teacher's aid in the local school and bringing in $6.25 per week at the worst of the depression. That small salary is what kept her parents, sisters and brother from going hungry.    David worked on the family farm doing what he could to help provide a living for his family, but the times were so bad that typically only one person in a family or couple were allowed to have a job in order to ensure more jobs to go around within the community.

As the fall wore on and slowly turned into winter, David was busy repairing the family car - a Nash coupe and decided to take it for a drive on Saturday, December 31st.What thoughts must have occupied David's mind during that snowy drive on solitary country roads, one can only surmise - 'height of depression, maybe it would be better to wait until times improved, but then again, when you are at rock bottom there isn't anywhere to go but up, I love her but will that be enough to sustain us, or will I even be able to make a living for them?' It was forty miles later, in Faulk county, in the county seat of Faulkton, when he bought a marriage license for $2 and then purchased a ring at the drug store.  Another forty mile drive home again with as many thoughts and fears to occupy his mind, and he tucked the license and ring into a safe hiding place - in the handhold of one of the monocoupe airplanes in the hanger.

Vera and David with their first born son (my uncle)

That evening, he took Vera for a ride and they stopped out at the hanger.  He showed her the license and pointed out that the next day was New Year's Day.  If she was so inclined, he thought they might get married the next afternoon.  Maybe she sensed the proposal was coming, or maybe it was a surprise, but either way what thoughts and fears Vera faced, is hard to imagine - 'key provider for the family, what will they do without me?, Do I really love this man enough? When you are at rock bottom is there anywhere else to go but up?'  Whatever her thoughts and fears were, she must of thought he was a reasonable looking fellow, because she said 'yes'. 

Sunday, January 1st 1933, after lunch, David asked his dad if he had any money he could borrow. His dad gave him two dollars….all that he had with him.  With the little money that David had saved and the $2 from his dad, he picked up

Vera in his 1926 green Chevy coupe and they lit out for Faulkton.  They had to keep the marriage a secret because they knew that if the school district found out that Vera was married, she would loose her job.  They were married by the minister with his two children standing in for witnesses.  David had planned to pay the minister $5, but realized that the amount of money he had was pretty slim.  He paid him $4 instead and then they went for hot beef sandwiches and a movie in Highmore before heading home for the night.  When all was said and done, they had $1 left to start a marriage on.

They kept their marriage a secret until May and on the last day of school, Vera skipped out and left a note saying she would accept the last day of school off as a wedding present.  David and Vera left that night for the Black Hills,  their honeymoon and many happy years of marriage.  Those two young people were my paternal grandparents whose sense of optimism and adventure in the face of a depression have left inspiration in their wake for all of their descendants to come.  They were together for 72 years….that may have been the best $4 investment grandpa ever made.

The Darkest Day

I started a new tradition with my kids a few years ago. In the summer, when the weather is reasonably good, I take the oldest ones up to northern Minnesota for a little camping.  We find the remotest location possible within a State Park and set up housekeeping in a tent for three or four days.  We sleep on the hard ground, we eat food that has been warmed up over a fire and we explore the area in the hopes of seeing large and potentially dangerous animals (at a distance).  I mention this here only as a prelude to my train of thought. This camping, although rustic, is far from primal - we have an easily built fire, we have mostly prepared foods, we have a car in which to drive away if the weather turns foul, but it allows my kids to see how easy life really is for us most of the time.  This last year, I brought along a flint striker and let them set about starting their own fire.  After nearly an hour of attempts there had been only a small fizzle of flame and the need for sustenance outweighed the basic skill set of building a fire without an easy spark, and the matches were brought forth.

Camping in the woods with my kids makes me think about what sort of conditions humans survived for thousands of years. A daily job of finding shelter, food, and warmth….that's it, day after day.  No house to mortgage, clean, and repair.  No cars to buy, fix, and drive.  No jobs to employ, tax, and stress us.  Just life, simple and basic....and extremely difficult.  I like to think that, if push came to shove, I could survive better than most out in the elements.   I think about what I would need first - shelter? food? and what would be the best way of obtaining these things.  I realize that this is likely a silly thought experiment given today's world, but it and the time of year that we are in lead me to the following question:


Who originally figured out the solstice timing?

There are countless festivities around this time every year - almost every culture has some celebration or feast, but who was the first?  Early neolithic cultures in England come to mind with their stone circles that have been assumed to be related to the solstices, but the builders of Stonehenge weren't necessarily first, they just built a great huge rock configuration after they had it worked out.  What fascinates me is wondering who was the first person to take a moment in their daily drudgery and say, "is it me, or are the days getting shorter?"  At what point did homo sapians advance enough to notice that the days quietly got shorter until approximately now and then slowly begin to get longer again?

Every year, as each new season happens, I have to stop and think, "did it happen like this last year?" I marvel anew at the first green sprouts, the warm breeze, the turning of the leaves, the first snow….it is as though I have no memory of the season specifics that I have lived through for the last forty years. And the sudden realization that the nights are getting ever longer catches me completely off guard when I walk outside after work and realize I am standing in twilight.  This realization that the days are getting shorter always fills me with a certain amount of gloominess.  How much more might the first people have felt this gloom slowly engulfing them?  It must have felt like the end of days at times and for many it probably was - starvation was a fairly common form of population control and the cold weather did not make survival any easier.

What I find interesting is that among most of the cultures of the world, this celebration appears to have developed independently of one another.  There was no newspaper, no television broadcast to announce a discovery of the day upon which the earth took off again for another 585 million miles around the sun, no universally agreed upon moment of relief in which the world would heave a collective sign and think, "oh, good! We are on course for another year!"   And so, each region and culture developed their own set of beliefs and story for why things are the way they are - each slightly different, but with a common thread…..light.

Regardless of the origins, the celebrations ring similar in more ways than they are different - The coming of the light, whether it be in the form of a person or the return of the sun's warmth to the earth.  They all celebrate a subtle shifting of the earth and all its inhabitants that promises renewed hope for the future.  So, this year, whether you light a candle on a menorah, decorate a Christmas tree, burn a yule log, celebrate Kwanzaa, or light a candle and say a quiet "thank-you" to the earth and sun, remember we are all in this Earth together for another spectacular 585 million mile ride around a distant sun. The darkest day is here, now let the light come in.

Peace.