Murphy Henry
Today is Red’s and my 35th wedding anniversary, so we are taking the day off to celebrate. Just so this short blog will have some bluegrass content, I would remind you that Red and I first laid eyes on each other at a bluegrass festival in Georgia (Lavonia) in 1972, saw each other from a far at the same festival in 1973, finally spoke to each other at another bluegrass festival (in Conway, S.C.), at the end of 1973, and finally tied the knot in Summerville, S.C., on October 26, 1974. NOT at a bluegrass festival, although as the guy said in the movie O Brother Where Art Thou?, we did “R-U-N-N-O-F-T” and were married by a preacher we’d never met. (As Gamble Rogers used to sing—although not about us!—“It was me and the preacherman, the devil, and my darling wife.”)
The day we were wed happened to be a Saturday, and the next day, Sunday, we were all excited about calling our folks to tell them we’d gotten married. We thought we’d wait till after church so we started calling about 12:15 p.m. Well, unbeknownst to us—or perhaps unremembered by us since we had other things on our minds—that was the first day of Daylight Savings Time, and everybody (but us) had remembered to set their clocks back. So all our family members were still in church. We kept calling and calling, wanting to break this wonderful news and nobody was home! We finally got hold of them, but sheesh! I’m not sure what that meant or what that was a sign of, but, 35 years later, we’re still hanging in there! So, Happy Anniversary to us!