[Vision2020] Couple Celebrates 80th Wedding Anniversary

[Tom Hansen]

Couple Celebrates 80th Wedding Anniversary
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXTCpTmrx4o

Courtesy of the Philadelphia Inquirer at:

http://www.philly.com/philly/news/local/83184867.html

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80 years on, love glows still for Mr. and Mrs. Atkins

By Jane M. Von Bergen
Inquirer Staff Writer

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Mitch Atkins, 97, watches as daughter-in-law Dora Atkins laughs with
Mattie Atkins, 103, during the celebration of the couple's 80th wedding
anniversary in Philadelphia.

http://media.philly.com/images/20100131_inq_pcouple31z-b.JPG

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About a month ago, James Jones, 46, dropped by his grandparents' home a
few blocks away in West Philadelphia.

That was when he saw his grandfather, Mitchell Atkins, bend over and kiss
his wife, Mattie Atkins.

"I cried," said Jones, who has two grown children of his own. "I didn't
let them know, but it brought a tear to my eye. He gave her a kiss on the
lips and called her 'Darling.' "

Now, there's nothing remarkable about a man's kissing his wife. In most
happy marriages, it's an everyday occurrence.

But Mitchell and Mattie's marriage has been happy longer than most -
partly because they've lived longer than most.

Yesterday, to celebrate the couple's 80th anniversary, Jones and 70 others
in their extended family gathered at Deliverance Evangelistic Church in
North Philadelphia.

Mitchell and Mattie Atkins married in Jacksonville, Fla., on Jan. 14,
1930. Given some of the facts in their long life of love, it would be
tempting to title this tale "The Boxer and the Cougar," but that would be
only partly true.

What's really true is what happened in their living room Thursday as they
reminisced about their marriage.

"She was the prettiest thing in the whole world," said Mitchell, 97, known
in his family as Daddy Mitch. "And she's still the loveliest."

Mattie, 103, who uses a wheelchair because of crippling arthritis, is
almost completely deaf. She can hear when a daughter shouts right into her
ear. So on Thursday, Ronye Smaller leaned close and repeated her father's
words.

A smile spread over Mattie's face, moving from eyes to lips. "He's a joy
to be around," she said, then joked about her husband's kisses.

"I find no fault in him, except he always comes up by me slobbering on me."

When the couple met in Jacksonville in 1928, Mitchell Atkins was an
amateur boxer and a restaurant chef, probably around 16. But that was his
secret, because he took a liking to Mattie Louise Butler, then 22.

"I fell for her right away, the first time I saw her. I liked the way she
dressed and her hair. She was active. She was energetic," he said.

So Mitchell, a God-fearing man who counted it as a date to walk Mattie
home from church and regularly woke up his six children at 4 a.m. to pray,
out-and-out lied - or maybe, to put a finer spin on it, didn't correct
anybody's misimpressions, least of all Miss Mattie's.

"I just told her I was 23, and I acted like I was 23," he said.

She found out the truth when his sister let it slip when their first baby
was 3 months old.

"I felt all right about it because he was a perfect gentleman, even at 17.
He was already respectful. He treated me like a lady," she said.

Every time he saw her, he had a present. Every Friday, the florist's truck
pulled up to deliver a dozen rosebuds.

"You have to have a habit of doing things like that," he said.

On their wedding day, they set out walking to their pastor's house for the
ceremony, but got lost and arrived two hours late. Then Mitchell went to
work, and Mattie went to her parents' home to wait for him. He got back at
2 a.m.

In 1945, they moved to Philadelphia and into the house on Parrish Street
where they still live. He earned $38 a week as a warehouse receiving
clerk. They raised six children, but anyone who needed a place to stay
found room in their three-bedroom home.

He earned the living, but she was a natural with her hands, moving easily
between skills as a seamstress and skills as a carpenter. One day, he came
home and she had redesigned and rebuilt the wall between the living room
and dining room.

"I was surprised to see it," he said. "She did a beautiful job on it and
still had dinner on the table."

Now their clan includes 19 grandchildren, 29 great-grandchildren, and 12
great-great-grandchildren. The youngest at yesterday's gathering was a
great-grandchild, Madeleine Eleese Atkins Page, born Nov. 15 and named
after her great-grandmother.

Like the wedding, yesterday's festivities started later than planned -
some mix-up over the van. So by the time the two arrived, the family
couldn't help but crowd into the lobby of the church's fellowship hall to
greet them.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," they shouted, as Daddy Mitch made his way up the
walkway into the church. Then Mommy Atkins was wheeled in, shivering from
the cold, overwhelmed by family and television cameras and the shouting
and clapping.

Someone brought a tissue, someone pinned a corsage, someone found some
gloves for cold hands, someone tucked in a lap robe, someone else adjusted
it, and someone else adjusted it again. Someone presented two dozen roses,
someone tucked them under her arm.

"Glory hallelujah," she said, softly, dressed in an ivory suit with pearls
around her neck and pearl earrings. "Thank you, Jesus."

Her children and grandchildren say they have never, ever heard them even
fuss around each other, let alone argue.

"I never did get angry with him," she said. "He don't let you get angry.
He'll just be grinning all the time. He's just a jolly, jolly man."

The key to marital success, she said, smiling, "is treat your husband like
you want him to treat you and make sure you have two rolling pins - keep
one on his head and the other to roll out the dough."

Nothing, they both said, is more important than prayer, love, and unity.
That, and a little kissing on the sofa, when the children aren't around.
"She'd sit in my lap, sit right here and kiss and go on," he said.

"Love, love, love each other," she added. "It's beautiful, beautiful to be
old and still be in love at our age."

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Ya see, V-peeps.  I'm not always gloom and doom.

Seeya round town, Moscow.

Tom Hansen
Moscow, Idaho

"The Pessimist complains about the wind, the Optimist expects it to change
and the Realist adjusts his sails."

- Unknown