"Ha Ha, how young I was," reminisced Mary Chassey as she looked at her wedding photo with her husband, George.
And this is the conversation that took place before it was taken and after the blind date:
"Well, I went home and told my friend, bet my friend a dollar, I said 'I met the girl I'm gonna' marry'" said George. "He didn't think so. I did."
They've lived through more Valentine's Days than most couples. 70 of them have been together, except for two George missed while he was fighting the second World War.
"No contact, except letters, no voice contact, nothing," they said.
Despite the lapse, they built a family, had a son who died in Vietnam, and got through it together.
"Fact is we are one," said George. "Not two people but one."
They also had daughters and they had kids and their kids did the same.
Mary taught school. George became an Episcopal minister. They settled in South Carolina. But it all began in Boston, in college, in 1939.
"It isn't neccesarily the thrill when he drives in the yard anymore," described Mary. "It's a feeling of now he's home, it's alright."
"It's a commitment of devotion," said George. "I'm happy when I know she's happy."
Something's working. They live on their own, still driving, still doing life together. Both are 91 and life is more sacred than ever.
"When he first wakes up in the morning, I'm usually out in the kitchen," said Mary. "I've never told you this but I hear him moving around and I know he's up and moving around for another day."
And on some of the days he gives her yellow roses like he did at his first military ball. But Valentine's, they say is a side note. The day that mattered most is their wedding day.
"I think the best thing amyone can give a lady is unending attention and care," said George. "I mean flowers are nice but you gotta' have what goes along with it which is the kind of devotion you have when you first met."
The Chassey's still kiss several times a day, especially before they go to bed.
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