75 years is a long time no matter how you look at it. But at the same time, it can go by in the blink of an eye if you spend it with the one you love.
Melvin and Beryl Fitzpatrick can attest.
On a chilly January morning, the couple found themselves in the middle of a packed Hillyard Senior Center. It’s not an unusual place to find them. They show up most Wednesdays. However, on this particular Wednesday, it’s all about them.
There’s music, a chorus line from the Hillyard Belles, and in the corner of the room, there’s Mel working through a full dance card while joyfully singing along to a rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In.”
“If he didn’t have a good voice, I’d say no,” his wife, Beryl, says before approving. “But he does have a good voice.”
Beryl of all people should know. She’s been Mel’s admiring audience for the past 75 years.
“We met at church… I think I was 15,” Beryl recalls before looking over at Mel. “You were almost 16.”
Was it love at first sight?
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mel ponders. “Every girl I looked at was first sight.”
A laugh from Mel. A chuckle from Beryl.
“I was the best looking one, the friendliest one and not too bad,” Mel says as if running down a resume of why Beryl was unable to resist him. “I didn’t have to bother, just come my baby.”
After meeting, as was the case back then, things moved fast and in front of about 200 people on January 21, 1951, Melvin and Beryl became Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick.
They wasted no time building their own family.
“Four (kids) of our own,” Beryl says. “Boy, girl, boy, girl.”
Beryl took pride in creating a good home for all of them, including Mel.
“He’s easy going,” Beryl says glancing over at Mel. “He’s easy to cook for.”
“I eat anything,” Mel affirms.
That sort of adventurous spirit carried over into both of them eventually becoming pilots.
“I had an instructor,” Beryl begins before Mel interrupts with a sarcastic “Ha!”
“I taught her how to fly!” Mel smiles. “The instructor didn’t know nothing.”
And as has been the case for more than seven decades, Beryl compromises. Sort of.
“Well, that’s a matter of opinion,” she says.
There’s also been resolve of their life together. In more ways than one.
“My aunt told me never go to bed at night if you’ve had a fight before you get over the fight,” Beryl advises.
Despite his usual verbose nature, Mel added knowing when to be silent is most beneficial.
“I keep my mouth shut,” he says with a smirk.
But the 21st of January is no time to keep his mouth shut. 75 years together is a pretty big deal and Mel is celebrating at the Hillyard Senior Center the only way he knows how: Singing and Dancing.
There’s no shortage of admirers and well-wishers in the room. Many people come up to the Beryl and say congratulations as Mel continues working through his dance card.
The two doing what comes naturally to both of them. Mel entertains. Beryl makes sure everyone is taken care of.
“Have a cupcake because I bought ’em,” Beryl says to anyone standing near the 6 or 7 dozen cupcakes she brought along for the occasion.
“Howdy!” Mel can be heard in the background hollering after finishing another dance.
Beryl looks on.
“Not generally that much,” Beryl says when I ask if there’s any jealousy with Mel dancing with other girls all these years later.
She knows the joy it brings him. She knows the joy he brings others. She’s just a wife waiting for her turn because as in demand as Mel may be, as has been the case for nearly 80 years now, he always has a dance saved for his Beryl.
And, of course, a song.
“Take it off my shoulders,” Mel sings as the band plays an old Hank Cochran song from 1963. “And make the world go away.”
And on a Tuesday morning in Hillyard, after 75 years together, the two embrace and dance in circles with each other as for a brief moment the world listens and it really does go away.
Happy Anniversary to Mel and Beryl. – Cory
