June 16, 1943. Duluth, Minnesota. He was almost twenty-two. She was twenty. World War II raged in other parts of the world, but for one day, the war was forgotten for this couple. Glenn was stationed in Duluth after enlisting in the Coast Guard. Marge had hopped on a train in Carey, Ohio, to meet Glenn and marry him. They spent one night together and then Marge headed back to Ohio, back to a job so she could save for their future, and back to her parents to explain where she had been. Marge’s little sister, Burdeen, covered for her while she was gone.
It was a bold move for a small-town farm girl from the Midwest. Was this her first trip out of state? Quite possibly. And it was a doozy. She was a spunky girl, but running off to get married so far away was pretty amazing. Eventually, Marge returned to Duluth, found a job as a waitress, and began her life as Glenn’s wife until 1945 when they discovered their family was expanding. Again she left for Ohio to await the birth of their first child.
And then… the war was over, Glenn came home to Ohio. They worked hard and raised two children, my brother and me. They were married sixty-two years when Marge passed away in 2005.