August 14, 1955

It was a sticky August afternoon in Sawyer, Kentucky. Ella Mae Spector and her boyfriend, Fred Hutchins, were lying on the cool grass by the stream that ran through the village. They were both watching two fishing poles that were propped up against a bench, waiting around for just one little bite. There wasn't much else to do on sleepy days like this, not in towns like Sawyer.

Fred sat up, shielding his eyes from the blinding sunlight.

"D'you hear that?" he asked, looking at Ella Mae. She opened her eyes and squinted to see him.

"Hear what?" she asked.

He stood up. "I think we got us somethin'."

Ella Mae looked over at both of the fishing poles, which we sitting perfectly still, as they had been all afternoon.

"Naw," she said. "There aint nothin' there."

Nonetheless, he walked over to the bench and pulled the fishing line out of the water.

"Oh yes there is," he said matter-of-factly. "A nice one, too."

"Really?" she asked excitedly, sitting up to see for herself. Fred was walking toward her with the pole in his hand, holding up the line as if there were a fish hooked onto the end. But there was nothing. "Fred, what on earth are you talkin' about?" she demanded.

Then she saw it. It sparkled in the sunlight as the fishing line swung back and forth. A small golden ring. Fred carefully took it off of the hook, set the fishing pole on the ground, and sat down next to her.

"Ella Mae," he said. "Will you marry me?"

A tear ran down her cheek. "Of course!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. He kissed her and then slid the ring over her small finger. They sat by the stream for a few more minutes, and then Ella ran home eagerly to tell her family.

It wasn't such a stale day in Sawyer, after all.

The following Saturday, the two of them drove down to Arkansas in Fred's blue pick up truck. Ella Mae had never been to Arkansas before. As a matter of fact, she had never left Kentucky. It was quite empelling for her to get away. Away from all the back-breaking chores, the tiny, one-bedroom house her family of seven had to share, the lifeless days of summer in the mountains. Saywer was her home, but she was happy to leave.

Fred, on the other hand, had been born and raised in Arkansas, and he knew all of it like the back of his hand. He had no desire to stop and enjoy the scenery. However, Ella Mae convinced him to at least let her stop and take a picture of the "Welcome to Arkansas" sign.

The trip took nearly eight hours, though it seemed like much longer due to the unbearable heat. When they arrived at Fred's grandma's, Ella Mae felt her legs and noticed she had broken out into a heat rash.

Grandma Minnie greeted them at the doorway.

"Is that my Freddy?!" she called excitedly, running into the yard to hug her grandson.

"Grandma, this is Ella Mae," he said when she let him go.

"Hello, Mrs. Hutchins."

"Well isn't she just a doll!" Grandma Minnie exclaimed, squeezing Ella Mae's tiny figure in a big bear hug. "Looks like Fred's found him a nice young lady." They smiled at each other. "Come on in and have some watermelon!"

That evening, Fred told Ella Mae that he was taking her somewhere. When she asked where, he replied, "to get married."

They drove down to a white farm house just off the highway. Fred parked the car next to the house, and they both got out, holding hands as they walked up onto the porch.

"You dont think it's too late, do you? It's nearly 8 o'clock," said Ella Mae. Her heart was racing.

"Naw, Judge Parker wont mind," Fred replied. Ella Mae smiled as she gazed up into his dark eyes. He somewhat resembled Elvis.

He knocked on the door and a minute or so later an old woman with gray curly hair answered.

"Yes?"

"'Evening, ma'am. Is Judge Parker home?" Fred asked.

"Yes," she said. "One minute." she walked away and a few seconds later a skinny man with thick black hair and glasses returned.

"Fred!" he exclaimed, shaking Fred's hand. "Haven't seen you a while! Whatchya been up to?"

"Mr. Parker, I'm here to marry this lovely lady," he said, pointing to Ella Mae. She smiled and shook Judge Parker's hand.

"You dont say!" he said, looking at Ella.

"Yes sir," Fred replied. "It's not too late, is it?"

"No sir, just one minute."

He disappeared inside the house and returned with a Bible in his hand. They all piled inside the truck and drove down to the Baptist church.

It was probably one of the most informal weddings to ever take place, but Ella Mae cried tears of sheer happiness. When she left the church as Mrs. Fred Hutchins, it was the best she had ever felt in her life.

2006

Fred and Ella Mae had grown old together. A month or so after their wedding, they had moved to Michigan where Fred could find better work. Not long after, they had their first child, followed by three more. Eventually, they had built their dream home, what they had always wanted. Ella Mae no longer had to live the hard life she had struggled with for so many years in Kentucky.

One night, almost one year after their 51st wedding anniversary, Ella Mae felt an excruciating pain in her side. She was taken to the emergency room, where she was told that she had inoperable lung cancer. When she came home from the hospital early the next morning, she cried as Fred held her in his arms for the first time in so many years, although it felt like just last week they were knocking on Judge Parker's door. It seemed like their lives had passed by much too quickly.

For six months she battled it. She recieved chemotherapy treatments three times a week, coming home everyday feeling nauseous, exhausted, and just plain terrible. All of her hair had fallen out, and when October came around she hardly ever got out of bed.

Fred would walk by her room now and then to check on her, ask her if she needed anything. His wife was still beautiful to him. When he looked in at her, he still saw the 17 year old he had fallen in love with, and it brought tears to his eyes.

Please God, he would pray. Make her better.

By November, Hospice had been called in. The stress was unbearable. It seemed like every other day the nurses would say to him, "she'll probably go sometime in the next two days." They told him what to watch for, all the signs, or stages, of death.

But he refused to believe it. They had been telling him this over and over again for almost a month, and somehow she always pulled through. Hospice is wrong, he thought.

Fred sat in her bedroom at night when everyone had left. He would talk to her, and sometimes she would respond, but she was usually too sedated to understand anything he was saying. Everytime he looked at her, there was a lost look in her eyes, like she was stuck between here and heaven.

One night, he held her hand and told her, holding back his tears, "Ella...you can let go now. If you want to, you can." He watched her chest rise and fall laboriously, her once brown eyes were now gray and foggy.

She died within the next hour. Fred called the entire family over to say their last goodbyes, and Hospice came to take her away from him. He stepped outside and looked out into the forest they had built their home next to, and in the distance he saw her, 17 years old again, full of life, as she waved back at him and whispered "I love you."

And with tears pouring down his face, he replied, "I love you, too."