Today, Sally and I celebrate 35 married years together. Using the list of customary gifts for specific anniversaries, the traditional list says that we’re celebrating our coral anniversary, while the modern list says we’re celebrating our jade anniversary.

Thirty-five years. Wow. It seems like only yesterday when Sally and I first met and first danced to the Commodores’ “Three Times a Lady” at local disco club 2001 on Fairmount Avenue in Jamestown. That’s where we met, on a Friday night when Sally was there with a friend and I was there celebrating one of my best friends’ (John, R.I.P. Johnny) birthday with other friends. One of those friends became a Catholic priest a few years later and was responsible for bringing Sally and me together that night, 36 years ago. We actually married 364 days after that night.

As the story goes, we both went to 2001 on March 23, 1979. Obviously, we came separately, which was economically beneficial for me because on Fridays at 2001, guys paid an all-inclusive cover charge of $6 for music and drinks for the entire evening. Girls paid $4, covering their entry into the club and their drinks as well. Having met Sally there after we both arrived, I didn’t have to be chivalrous and pay for her entry or drinks. I know that sounds cheap, but at that time I was trying to pay bills (including tuition loans, rent, car) while working on a teaching salary, which then was just over $9,000 a year.

During the evening, our friend (and future priest), saw two young ladies sitting alone and went over and asked if they’d like to join us. They came over, and after some awkward moments for all of us trying to break the ice, the Commodores’ song began. Sally broke the small talk by asking if one of us “gentlemen” would like to dance. We all looked at each other dumbfoundedly because we were rarely called “gentlemen.” Even though it was a slow song and I had already taken and paid for eight disco dance lessons – and after waiting to see if John responded first (hey it was his birthday) – I stood up and Sally and I went to the dance floor for what would be our first dance together.

As we were dancing and the song came to an end, I tried one of my surefire lines (that never worked by the way) and said it was hot inside. I then asked her if she’d like to go outside for some air. Sally said “Sure,” and I stood there wondering what to do next. You see no one ever said “yes” to that suggestion, so I never prepared for what to do next.

I finally figured out we should go outside and we made small talk briefly, after which I asked if I could drive her home at the end of the evening. That line never worked either, so I figured I was OK here too. Much to my surprise and shock Sally said, “Okay,” and again I was taken aback because that never happened before and it was even more embarrassing because I didn’t even have my car. I rode with one of the other guys (again, the future priest).

He drove me to my house after 2001 closed (2 a.m.) and I was set to take Sally home. I asked where she lived, figuring I’d be taking a short ride somewhere in Jamestown to drop her off. Surprise again, she told me she lived in Sherman (in the pre Interstate-86 Highway days).

Driving the old road to Sherman took longer than getting there today. After arriving at Sally’s home, I was very tired. Doubting I could get back to Jamestown without dozing off, I asked if she minded me sleeping in my car in her driveway. We sat and talked a bit, all while she had a babysitter inside watching her two little girls. After, I asked her if we might go out sometime. Then we said goodnight, she went inside and I slept, waking up at about 5 a.m., driving home to climb into my comfortable bed and thinking about the night that just passed.

On an August Saturday night five months later, I took Sally back to 2001, asked the DJ to play the Commodores’ “Three Times a Lady,” and as we danced, I pulled a small diamond ring out of my pocket and asked Sally for her hand in marriage. I don’t have to tell you what her answer was to my proposal. I repeated that same scenario at our 25th anniversary party, giving her an anniversary diamond ring this time.

Fast forward seven months from the proposal to March 21, 1980. It was a Friday morning, about 50 degrees and cloudy. I took the day off from school to help get ready for our wedding the next day. At about 10 a.m., it began to rain. Steadily that day, the temperature dropped. Later, we assembled to go to the church for the rehearsal then to my sister and brother-in-law’s home for the dinner that was to follow. As we entered the church, it began to snow. When we exited, there was about four inches on the ground with visibility almost nonexistent. It kept on snowing hard to the point where my in-laws couldn’t get back to Sherman and had to stay in town. For my future father-in-law and brother-in-law, that wasn’t a big problem as I had picked up all the tuxedos and had them ready. It wasn’t a problem for my future sister-in-law either, as her wedding party dress was also ready. However, it was a problem for my future mother-in-law, who had to borrow a dress and pair of shoes from her sister-in-law who lived in Jamestown. It also posed a problem for many traveling relatives left stranded in about three different states. They did make the wedding. It was a tough trip for the future Father Joe as well, as he was driving back from Buffalo and ended up off the road on the Jamestown side of Cassadaga.

All in all, we got about 12-15 inches of snow in 24 hours. We had to ask the city to plow Pratt Avenue, the steep hill leading to the former Liberty AC, where the reception was to be held.

All of these events were combined with the fact that Sally’s (and now mine too) youngest daughter came down with chicken pox about three days before the wedding, eliminating her as our flower girl. Also, my nephew, Matt, our ring bearer, spent most of the wedding day in the bathroom with his father throwing up (just Matt was throwing up). I had the feeling that this marriage was doomed from the start, but then again we were brought together by a future priest. God was on our side from the start, and happily, I was wrong. Today, we celebrate our jade – but not jaded – anniversary.

As in every relationship, there have been ups and downs. The downs have made us both appreciate the ups that much more. They’ve made us stronger, having had to get through some of those downs. There has been much give and take (probably much more give on Sally’s part and much more take on mine) and we’ve made it through these last 36 total years. I know I love her more with every day that’s passed.

I know we haven’t experienced everything (yet) we may have hoped to by this time, but I wouldn’t trade what we have – a loving home, three great kids and each other – for anything in the world. I hope we have at least 35 more years to keep this love fest going. For now it’s off to see “Phantom” and have a great dinner together. Happy anniversary Sally! I love you!