Tomorrow, April, 1942, my parents were married in Reno, NV. My father was stationed nearby.
When asked why they didn’t marry on April Fool’s Day, they always answered, “We’ve always been a day late and a dollar short”.
My sister and I say we are the product of a mixed marriage, a Colorado cowboy and a Wyoming sheepherder, whose marriage often resembled a range war.
They loved to dance and were better than good dancers.