In the same fashion that fate brought Helen and Raymond together in New York’s Central Park during the summer of 1942, my wife Mary and I met during the summer of 1976 when I made an unplanned stop in Lake George, New York.
Helen and Raymond’s marriage lasted exactly one year. He perished on their first wedding anniversary when his B-17 crashed on a mission during World War II.
A lesson I’ve learned over the past forty years is, love grows and becomes fuller as the years go by. Meeting Mary was fate, introducing myself to her was a choice, but falling in love, I had no control over.