Ahh, the bliss of young love. In our star-filled eyes, wrapped warmly in our love, life was perfect. Buddy and I didn't see the shabbiness of our dark apartment. It was our castle. Not having a place to cook made it seem like we were just camping out. Sandwiches by candlelight was a lovers' feast. Bathing with cockroaches was a dubious adventure. We shared a pair of sleeping bags that we zipped together. Our bed had a headboard, but no footboard. We slept at an uphill angle the first night. The next morning we put the mattress on the floor. We definitely would have slept better that night if it hadn't been for the cockroaches and other creepy crawlies running up and down our bodies. We knew that we would be moving soon!

Since we knew that we couldn't move for at least a month, we decided to explore our neighborhood and meet some of our neighbors. We didn't have to go very far. Right there in our own building were three more apartments. We knew there was a family living in the apartment right above us because we'd seen four of the children going to and coming home from school. One couldn't help but notice how fresh and clean these children were. They were so well-mannered that we knew that their parents had to be good people. We climbed the stairs and knocked on the door.

A motherly-looking black woman answered the door. We introduced ourselves as the newlyweds downstairs. She instantly opened her door wide and ushered us in with a smile. She had the face of an angel. It was round - it encompassed a large, warm, welcoming smile, and kindly, twinkling eyes. She bustled around and prepared tea for us. While we waited, we looked around the room. We noticed how shabby the apartment was, but it was clean and neat. The feeling of love was everywhere there. There were family pictures on the walls and hand-crocheted afghans on the couch and armchairs. There were books of all kinds on a homemade bookcase....children's stories, canning books, books on philosophy, history books and more. On a special little table was the family Bible. The pages were crinkly from years of reading. The rattle of teacups signalled her return.

Her name was Mattie - short for Mathilda. Her husband, John, was a Minister and he also worked at the Bus depot. We had already seen four of her children, but there was a baby, too. Mattie had dignity and an elegance of spirit that lightened and brightened their home. Soon her children came in from school. They each kissed their mother and politely acknowledged us, then took their school books to their bedroom. All four children shared one bedroom. The baby slept in a crib in their parents bedroom. Each bed was covered with a brightly colored quilt that had been handmade by Mattie. Mattie's husband had built the beds. The room was as neat as a pin.

This was the first time I'd ever met a black person, so I had no preconceived notions - no prejudice. Actually, it was the first time I'd met anyone of another culture and race. I was in for a real treat. Mattie told me about the lonely old man who lived right across the hall from her. His family had been killed in a confrontation with the Ku Klux Clan. He hadn't been home at the time and was ridden with guilt and sadness. She told us that the couple who lived right across the hall from us were Chinese and had fallen on hard times. They had come to Milwaukee to seek help from a family member and found that he had died just a few weeks before they arrive from California. They didn't speak English well, so were shy and kept to themselves.

Mattie told us about certain areas we should stay away from, but that the folks in our immediate neighborhood were fine folk. We found this to be absolutely true. We met people from many races. There were Italians, Puerto Ricans, Black folk, Chinese, Indian, and many mixes. Not everyone could speak English, but we all shared one thing....poverty. Poverty is an ugly word. It means lacking in money....money to pay the rent, money to pay the utilities, money for food and clothing. This was the setting, but most of the people did not have poverty of the soul, the spirit. A "candle of hope" shone in the darkness of that place.

It was well into November and the air became cold and brittle. There was no longer a "nip in the air." It was COLD! The day's high temperature was in the middle 30's and the low's were almost zero. Buddy and I took to sleeping in our warmest clothes and piling the two sleeping bags on top of us. One night, someone knocked at the door. It was an insurance salesman of all things. We told him that we couldn't buy insurance at this time. He asked if he could come in for a moment to warm up. He told us his name was Joe and he worked for New York Life. Joe chatted on about himself and told us he was married and had two little girls. He said his wife's name was Rosie. When he blew out his breath, steam came out. He saw that we had no heat and went out to his car to get something from his trunk. It was a small, round steel bar. He told us he knew how to turn the gas on. We all trooped down into the basement. The only light came from a single bulb in the low ceiling. I was so scared that I was too frozen to shiver. There was an iron lock over the handle to turn the gas on, but there was room enough for Joe to turn the handle a fraction of an inch at a time. It took nearly two hours to move that handle a quarter turn. It was enough! Joe lit the pilot light and the room began to warm a little.

All three of us huddled around that one little stove and began to thaw. Joe told us that we had to get out of that place. He said he'd help us find a place that we could afford in a decent area. He said it was a very dangerous part of town. Joe hadn't met the wonderful folks in that neighborhood. He didn't know what we knew. However, we WERE ready to move to a nicer apartment....one without cockroaches! He went out to his car, again, and brought in a newspaper this time. He scanned the rental ads by candlelight. He didn't find anything and it was getting late. Joe told us he had to go home but that he would be back soon. Buddy told me not to get my hopes up too high because Joe would probably forget. Joe didn't forget. He was back the next evening with an invitation to his home for Sunday dinner.

Joe and Rosie became our very best friends in Milwaukee. They introduced us to their friends, Johnny and Mary, who owned a tavern near Pfister & Vogel where Buddy worked. Joe had already told them about the newlyweds from Washington State and also about our situation. Since I was only 18, it was illegal for me to go into a tavern, but Johnny and Mary took us under their warm, loving wings and fed us dinner every night at their tavern. Not a cent did they charge for this Angelwork. They thought we were a darling young couple who were in over their heads. They were right, but with the lovely folks who were looking after us we were well protected. The first meal they served us went down fast! It was like manna from heaven and it was hot. It was the first hot meal we'd had since our "wedding dinner" at Walgreen's Drug Store on Oct. 9, 1962. It was now the middle of November.

True to his word, Joe found us an apartment in a nice neighborhood just 6 blocks from his home. It was in another large house that had been converted into four apartments. Ours was on the top floor. Mrs. Chapel was our landlady and she was wonderful. She was a widow who was trying to make ends meet by renting out the three other apartments. She lived on the first floor, there were two units on the second floor, and we had the whole third floor to ourselves. It was furnished and had everything we needed....sheets, blankets, towels, dishes, pot and pans, glasses, bowls, etc. We were in heaven!

Now, we were on our way. Mr. and Mrs. Robert E. Clark were happily employed and very much in love. Rosie and Joe were Catholic so they helped us meet with the parish priest at, Saints Peter and Paul, to sanctify our marriage. You see, according to the Catholic church, even though we were married in the eyes of man, we weren't married in the eyes of God. We were living in sin and I was pregnant. Horror of horrors!!! They waived their rule of no marriages during Advent because of our state of sin. Buddy and I had our marriage sanctified on December 15, 1962. Of course, I couldn't wear white because I wasn't a virgin, so I wore the next best thing....a bright red dress to convey the cheerfulness of the season. The ceremony was very solemn and joyless. Rosie and Joe stood up with us. The only comical moment was when Buddy slipped the wedding ring on my finger.... backwards! Following the wedding, we had our reception at Johnny's and Mary's tavern. It couldn't have been more fitting and it was lovely. Since it was a Sunday, the tavern was closed to the public and only a select few were invited. I had my first glass of champagne. We were toasted with wishes for a happy and fertile life.

A few days later I began cramping and lost my first baby in a miscarriage. We were devestated! Youth bounces back quickly, though, and we were happy and cheerful for our first Christmas. We didn't have much to give each other in the way of presents, but we had a bright shining Christmas tree, good friends, and each other. What more could one ask? We rang in the New Year with our best friends, Rosie and Joe. We knew that 1963 was going to be a wonderful year.

In a sense, it was a wonderful year. I had two more miscarriages and we decided that I needed to go to an Obstetrician instead of a General Practitioner. He put me to bed for the first three months of my next pregnancy and gave me rigid rules to follow. I did that and on April 19, 1964 we became the proud, HAPPY parents of our first child....Victoria Anne Clark. Rosie and Joe became her Godparents.