Local connection brings happy ending
When you’ve been around for almost seven decades, you think you’ve heard every variation on a love story, including the Ali MacGraw-Ryan O’Neal tearjerker titled “Love Story.” But then something slightly different always comes along.
Right after New Year’s Day, my wife and I received an invitation to a wedding. It was for late January in the Cleveland area.
It was for my wife’s cousin Joe, who’s 84 years old. His fianc茅e Bea is in her late 70s. They both have homes south of Cleveland.
Joe and Bea had visited us in Uniontown last May, and told us of their engagement. Although we had seen and talked to Joe several times over the years, that was the first time we had ever met Bea. Joe is a successful man and an interesting guy to talk to, well-read, and a history buff.
Bea is a petite woman, full of energy and a great conversationalist too. If I had to describe her personality, I’d say she’s like a glass of ginger ale — sparkling and bubbly. After just a half hour speaking with her, we felt like we had known Bea for years.
The next day we met up for a walk in a local park. Bea has 10 years on me, but I had trouble keeping up with her pace.
The back story on Joe and Bea is this: Joe was born in Uniontown during the Great Depression. His family lived, ironically, on Easy Street. When he was about 12 years old, his father (my wife’s uncle) moved them to Cleveland in search of better job opportunities. So Joe grew up and developed an Ohio accent, as the family’s transplanted roots firmly took hold there.
Bea wasn’t born in Ohio, but moved there after high school. She married not long afterward and had two children. Sadly, her husband passed away when she was in her early 30s, but she never remarried.
Meanwhile, Joe fell in love with an Ohio girl, wedded her, and raised four boys. After some 50 years of marriage, tragedy struck when his wife fell victim to cancer. Neither Bea nor Joe ever expected to fall in love again.
About two years ago, Joe was sitting in the stands at his grandson’s youth baseball game. And so was Bea, also there to watch her grandson play — a teammate and friend of Joe’s progeny. They happened to strike up a conversation about the game and about their grandkids.
Never having met each other before, I suppose they touched on generic topics like the weather and where they were from. Bea casually mentioned that she was born in Pennsylvania, where her sister still lived. Joe, of course, said he was from a small Pennsylvania town called Uniontown.
There was a sudden look of surprise, as Bea said that she too was from Uniontown, where she had graduated from South Union High before moving to Cleveland. After finding that they both had lost their spouses, some dinner dates soon followed. And more Little League games, I imagine.
Not too long after, Joe phoned one of his sons and uttered three words: “I’ve met someone.” His son was ecstatic, as were his brothers, as they realized what was meant to be for their dad. And shortly after that, they became engaged.
So on Jan. 28, we traveled to Ohio to help celebrate the wedding of Bea and Joe. There were more than 200 of their friends and family in church, which speaks to how well thought of they are. As I looked around, there were smiles — and tears — on a lot of faces. Fate and a Uniontown connection had stepped in to introduce a man to a woman whose paths had never before crossed. A number of people observed that Bea and Joe seemed made for each other.
Call it coincidence, call it fate. Bea, a deeply religious lady, says God had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, she and Joe have miraculously found one another to share their golden years.
Anyway, don’t you just love a nice love story, even if takes more than 60 years to come to a happy ending?
Bernie Quarrick is a resident of Uniontown. He tries very hard to stay awake to watch movies — even chick flicks — with his sweetheart of a wife, Eileen.