There are lots of beautiful love stories out there in the world. Some true, some made up. Sometimes we prefer them fictionalized because our jaded culture says that if “a love that is too good to be true - it’s just that.” I would say otherwise. I’ve known many couples to survive the cynicism of society and go on to celebrate their 40th, 50th, 60th, even 75th wedding anniversary - and with a deepness of love and understanding that only comes from years of togetherness.

One of the most beautiful examples of this love was my friend Bill Madden. I met Bill at a Marine Corps Reunion back in 2015. It was his first time venturing out to a social event since the passing of his wife of 69 years, Phyllis, earlier that summer. The loss was still fresh in his heart and eloquent in his words. Following the reunion, my sister and I stayed in regular touch with Bill and in the (sometimes daily) emails we would exchange, he spoke often of her:

I miss her so much, especially in the evenings. There are so many things to do here, and many shows and musical acts come in every week that I can forget during the day, but the evenings are the worst.

He wondered what his purpose in life was now that she was gone. Sometimes the pain was so much he would ask me why it wasn’t possible to take things into his own hands. But he always ended his notes with gratitude at the years he was given.

You didn't know Phyllis - but to know her was to love her… Phyllis was not only beautiful but she was kind and compassionate, too.

Bill enjoyed the emails. His hearing had been blasted out on Iwo Jima when a mortar shell buried him alive - consequently making phone calls quite difficult. Besides, as a lover of the English language I think it was cathartic for him to write. At the reunion Bill had made reference to the story of how he wooed his wife and stole her from a sailor, so one day I asked him to re-tell the story for me and this is the following piece he sent:

How Bill Steals Phyllis from Slats and Lives Happily Ever After

“[Phyllis] was a year ahead of me in school and a year older. I wasn't daunted by that because she had such a wonderful personality and was beautiful, too, and I wanted to know her better. Most people in school want nothing to do with those who are younger and in lower classes than they are in, but she wasn't like that at all. She always greeted me with a smile and treated me like everyone else, but there was no relationship or dating for us in high school.

She was a cheerleader and very popular, but she had no strong ego. She treated everyone the same. In her senior year she dropped out of cheerleading so someone else could have the position. Many girls wanted to do it, but there were only so many slots, and she had done it for two years, so she gave them hers. That's just the way she was. She was the only one to do that, also.

She had so many traits like that, that I couldn't help falling in love with her very early. Of course, that love which some would call "puppy love," was not reciprocated at the time. I never tried to date her in high school. Besides, I didn't have any money and no car. I did work at a gas station after school, but I didn't make much and had to buy my own books and some of my clothes. She did say later that every time she turned around in school, I was there, and I must admit that I did try to be there with her as often as I could. I couldn't stay away from her.

She dated senior boys and some boys who were out of school already, but she wasn't really serious about any of them. I thought I could still have a chance later when I could get a job and have some money for dating. I still didn't have a car, though.

There was one person I saw her with more than any other, Roy, or "Slats" Matz. I so envied him. He was tall, had a good job, good clothes, and a nice car.

How could I compete with that?

I was a senior at that time, but wanted to get out so badly. I did neglect a few of my studies in my senior year but still was salutatorian when I graduated two months after I was 16 (I had started school at age four but shouldn't have. I was always the youngest in my class). Anyway, I didn't know what to do, until Slats went into the Navy and left me my chance.

During my senior year my parents finally bought a used car. It wasn't much, a '33 Chevy, and this was the 40's. The war was on, and I knew that I wanted to join the Marines, as my brother already had. He was a paratrooper, called Para Marines at the time. I wanted to join Carlson's Raiders but couldn't enlist until I was 17. I worked at the Ball Band Rubber Company for a dollar an hour which I thought was a tremendous wage at the time. Ball Band switched from making tennis shoes to making rubber bullet proof gas tanks for bombers. I saved my money and could then date Phyllis while Slats was off to the Navy, a fortuitous happening for me.

I did date Phyllis then, and we got along very well, but she still had connections with Slats and the two were corresponding. I knew I didn't have much time. If I didn't enlist at 17, I would be drafted later and possibly not get what I wanted, the Marines. I dated Phyllis as much as I could and told her that I loved her, but she was conflicted and I was afraid she would choose Slats over me.

Finally, I enlisted at 17 and was sent to San Diego to train at Camp Pendleton. Slats was also in California, but at Los Angeles. He invited Phyllis and her girlfriend, Fern Rogers, to go out there and stay with an aunt he had there so he could see her. He knew I had been dating Phyllis and I think he wanted to counter that. Well, she was conflicted, so she agreed to go out there with Fern and stay with his aunt for a while. But she also wrote to me and wanted to see me, too, and to make up her mind after that. She told me to come there on a day that Slats did not have time off, but "the best laid plans of mice and Marines gang aft agley." Slats got someone to take his duty place on the day I was to take Phyllis out.

Harry James and Helen Forrest in the 1940s

I had hitch hiked to LA and was going to take a cab wherever the girls wanted to go, but we ended up, all four of us, in Slats' aunt's car and headed for the Hollywood Palladium where Harry James was playing and Helen Forrest was singing. I was not too happy with the arrangement, and neither was Slats, much less Phyllis.

We got to the Palladium, had some drinks, and listened to that heavenly music of James and Forrest. I quickly asked Phyllis to dance before Slats had a chance to. I was still a teenager and didn't dance very well, but I would have done anything to get her alone for a while so we could talk. Well, we danced, talked, and when the song was over we stayed till the next one and the next one before we got back to the table with Fern and Slats.

He was not happy a bit.

I must say here, that Slats was a nice guy. I liked him a lot, but this was war over the woman we both wanted to marry. I would have done almost anything to get her to marry me instead of him. That's how love works, I guess.

I got one more dance during the playing and singing of "Stardust," which became our song. In the 40's all bands ended their evening with that song. I still have great memories every time I hear that melody, and I hum it to myself every time I think of Phyllis. Then, I'm happy, and then I'm sad. I loved her so much.

She decided that night that she would choose me to marry over Slats. Later, I found out she wrote him a "Dear John'' letter. When our son Jim heard that he was incredulous. He said, "What? You sent a sailor a 'Dear John letter' when he was overseas?"

She said, "Yes I did, and if I hadn't, you wouldn't even be here."

And that’s the story.

I do like to think that Slats knew what was coming for him… and the “bite” of the Dear John Letter softened. But who knows. The 69 years between Bill and Phyllis speaks for itself.

“I think Phyllis saw something in me that I hadn't seen in myself. I was so happy to have had her for so long. She had a choice to make, and I'm so glad she chose me. I don't know what I would have become without her.”

Once, when I had been worrying about him he wrote me:

“I will try to take care of myself, as you decree, but I do fight depression… I never had those thoughts when Phyllis was alive. Her smile would light up a room and make me want to live forever, but she's gone.”

Bill passed away a little over a year and a half later and was reunited with the love and sparkle to his life. I never met Phyllis but through Bill I feel like I have, and am a better person for it.

May we all find a companion in love like Bill did with Phyllis.