GREENBUSH, Maine — Leaning on her walker, 90-year-old Gwendola “Dolly” Carroll gestured toward a wall, at a photo showing a handsome young Navy man who was getting ready to serve during World War II.
“Would you pass up a guy who looked like that?” she asked her daughter-in-law.
Nearby, the man in that photo, Linwood “Bud” Carroll, chuckled proudly.
Of course you wouldn’t. And neither did Dolly.
On July 5, Bud and Dolly will celebrate their 75th wedding anniversary. Their children have tried to find a living Maine couple that’s been married longer, but they haven’t found one. But this milestone deserves more than that. So, on Sunday, family members will stop by the tidy home they’ve lived in for most of their marriage, save a couple of wartime years.
One thing is certain: The couple’s love for each other will be readily apparent.
Dolly, you see, is a smiler … a laugher. And Bud? He’s a kisser. And a singer.
Together, they’ve raised six children and have 18 grandchildren, 31 great-grandchildren, and nine great-great grandchildren.
“This isn’t just a beauty spot,” Dolly said, describing the small home near the Penobscot River. “This is a loving spot.”
That, it is.
Early romance
Dolly said the couple have known each other for nearly all of their lives: While some dates have faded as they’ve gotten older, the memories remain.
They met in grade school, and kept crossing paths, even after she moved away for a time. Then Dolly’s sister married Bud’s uncle, who also lived in a section of Greenbush that was so full of family members, it was named “Carroll’s Corner.”
“I was up there visiting my uncle, and [Dolly’s sister] hollered, ‘I’d like to have you up to get the squash cut,” Bud recalled.
That squash harvest ultimately sowed the seeds of a lifelong romance.
“I got up there, and [Dolly] looked pretty nice,” Bud said. “That’s what started it off. We decided we liked each other.”
Eventually, there was a small problem. They weren’t the same age … and they wanted to marry very young, when Bud was 17 and Dolly was just 15.
Bud’s father wasn’t initially in favor of the union at such a young age, so Bud sought help from a higher authority.
“I figured I could get my grandmother to talk to my father. She had a lot of influence on him,” he said. “So we set up a plan, and she put the question on him.”
Bud’s father relented, and Dolly’s father had no such qualms about the marriage.
Then it was up to Bud to pop the question. Or, in this case, it was time to let Dolly in on the plan. The proposal lacked a little pizazz, but Dolly remembers it nonetheless.
“It was pretty simple,” she said. “I think he just met me and told me that we were getting married.”
Simple or not, but Dolly paints a vivid picture of the day.
She was wearing her new green coat, a luxury at the time. It was snowing, and the couple walked to meet each other.
“[I didn’t] cut my hair very much, and my hair flowed out,” she said. “And I had snowflakes on my hair. He always liked that.”
The couple paid $20 to get married in Milford, then started their official lives as husband and wife.
“Father and mother stood up with us,” Bud said.
Their first evening together was equally low-key.
“[Bud’s mother and father] went to the movies, and we went home to baby-sit for my sister. That was the start. Not very exciting,” Bud said.
Building a family
When Bud went into the Navy during World War II — he was a machinist working on Liberty ships and spent time flying on shore patrols stateside — Dolly stayed in Greenbush, in the same home they live in now.
She had her first child, Janis, just before Bud’s deployment. Son Donald was conceived during Bud’s shore leave and was born while his dad was away. Four more children — Glen, Ginger, Sally and Mark — followed.
For Bud’s two years in the service, Dolly lived in the Greenbush home, but it wasn’t as cozy as it’s become over the years. In those days, the house was without power or indoor plumbing. She carried wood and water into the house each day, and she received assistance from Bud’s parents.
“I truly believe the Lord kept us in tune so that when we had our children, we could be good parents to them,” Dolly said. “They never let us down.”
That continues today: Most of their children live nearby, and there’s a constant stream of family traffic in and out of the house. Bud is proud of all of his children.
And Dolly has always loved being a mother, a fact that’s a piece of family lore.
After having five children, Dolly was feeling sad, Bud said. A trip to the doctor provided them a cure he was happy to help supply.
“[The doctor] said, ‘She needs to have another baby,” Bud said. “I said, ‘What are we waiting for?’”
In the family, Bud’s quote about that incident is legendary. Prompted to recite it yet again, he smiles broadly and delivers: “Our last fling at youth.” Dolly sat nearby and smiled.
The secret
Dolly smiles all the time. She likes to hear her husband talk, and to chat with her children and sons- and daughters-in-law. She laughs at old stories of the way life used to be.
Bud’s a little more reserved. But he loves to sing, and he can easily be convinced to break into one of his favorite tunes.
“Tea for two, two for tea,” he began, singing the old classic with a refrain that describes the family perfectly.
“Three boys for you, three girls for me,” he sang. “Can’t you see how happy we would be?”
Then he chuckled.
“I didn’t think it was going to work out that way, but it did,” he said.
But why? What’s the secret to such a long-lasting romance?
Bud thinks he’s got that figured out, too.
“First of all, respect each other. You show love to each other. You don’t stop kissing your wife after you’ve been married for 30 years,” he said. “You don’t get as much thrill as you used to, but it’s still a thrill. It stirs you.”
Dolly refused to let Bud explain exactly how the stirring process works but said the feeling is mutual.
“I just knew he was the guy for me,” she said. “And he has been. We love each other deeply. We keep our marriage fresh with our hugs, a tug at my slip when he goes by. Singing that song he sings for me.”
But then what? What’s next on their agenda?
“The next thing we look forward to is being older than we are,” Dolly said. “You kind of have to.”
