…”Mr. Tomlinson, our choirmaster at Saint Alban’s, gave me a solo last Sunday. I sang Bach’s Sheep May Safely Graze. I don’t like doing solos. I find them embarrassing.
“Mum said I should be proud to have been chosen and wouldn’t I like to be a singer when I grow up, like Nelson Eddy. I told her, “No fear. I want to be a footballer, like Stanley Matthews or Dixie Dean.”
Lovely tribute to fans of Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy:
May 10, 1941 – A very good day! Because, you see, on that day 67 years ago, a man named Franny and a woman named Ethy became one. At 10:00 in the morning this couple was united before God, family and friends, promising to love and honor “till death us do part.”
Groom’s brother and bride’s sister stood as witnesses for the happy couple. A wedding party of 12 tuxedos and evening gowns did not march down the aisle. But they had love.
After the rice was thrown (not birdseed, bubbles or butterflies), the newlyweds toured the town in a 1939 LaSalle borrowed from groom’s father. They did not rent a freakishly stretched stretch-limo. But they had love.
First stop was Tomei Photography Studio in Akron, Ohio where the local photographer snapped a few photos. They did not immortalize every conceivable moment of the day on video. But they had love.
Second stop: The Canteen for a wedding breakfast for 20 honored guests. Next came some rest (Now isn’t that a unique feature to include in one’s wedding day?) at the bride’s house where an afternoon reception of cake and punch afforded well-wishers the opportunity to convey congratulations to the groom and best wishes to the bride. And then the guests went home.
That evening the mother of the bride prepared an elegant wedding dinner for family. They did not catapult bride’s parents into enormous debt orchestrating a catered extravaganza complete with mind-numbing music blaring from bass-boosted speakers. But they had love.
The honeymooners then drove to Warren, Ohio where they spent their first night as husband and wife, followed by a cozy week of fishing in Canada. They did not sail the seven seas with total strangers. But they had love.
And for the past 67 years they have passed that love down to their children and their children’s children with more than enough left over for their great grandchildren. They did it right all those years ago remembering what mattered most, and they are still doing it right 67 years later.
Still holding hands, still laughing, still waking up next to each other, and still listening to Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy belt out, “Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life,” on those Victor 78s. What is their sweet mystery of life? Simply this: because they were never stingy with love, because they didn’t store it up for themselves, but lavishly broadcast it time after time, decade after decade, to any and all who crossed their paths, they still have love.
“So, close your eyes. No, not yet, after you’ve read this first sentence. So, what does a Canadian look like? Now close your eyes for 10 seconds. And imagine.
OK. Your answer was?
I’m betting that your first impression was of a male or female, Caucasian, with perhaps blond or brown hair. Tall and proud. Clean-cut. Well-mannered. Sort of Wayne Gretzky meets Anne Murray meets a Nelson Eddy-Mountie.”