Johnny and Brenda Stroupe in 1958 and 2008.

Statistically speaking, their chances were slim. Marriages where either of the folks involved is a teenager have low survival rates. Johnny asked Brenda to marry him before she graduated high school.

She had barely finished saying yes when the U.S. Army declared it was shipping Johnny to France for two years. Heartbroken, he informed his fiancé that marriage would have to wait. I don’t know what all happened next, but I think Brenda invited herself to tag along to Europe. The wedding date was moved up to accommodate Uncle Sam.

So within a few days of her high school graduation, Brenda married her knight in shining armor, waved goodbye as he headed overseas, and hopped on a plane to join him a few weeks afterwards.

Thirteen months later, along came boy number one. Eventually they returned to the States, where boy number two happened a few years later. I am proud to be boy number two.

Over the years, people have asked my parents about the secret to their marital success. Mom mentions love, respect, patience, and those sorts of things. On one occasion, Dad was asked to describe Mom in three words. His answer is still the best I’ve ever heard- he said: “Perfect For Me.”

For various reasons, only one in every twenty marriages lasts until a fiftieth anniversary. At 5 p.m. on June 8, 2008, my parents had been married exactly fifty years. And much of the town of Cherryville was there to celebrate the occasion with them in the fellowship hall of my home church.

I put together a video that played during the anniversary celebration. Fifty years of photographic memories set to music. It took a long time to cut, paste, scan, edit, and piece together. But it was certainly a labor of love. At one point as the reception died down, I put my arms around my mom and slow-danced with her as we watched the slideshow and the music softly played. It was my favorite moment of the day and I shall never forget it.

There was lots of food- especially that of the cake variety-, lots of laughter, some sentimental tears, and too many friends and relatives to count. I guess when you spend most of fifty years in the same town, in the same church, in the same marriage, you acquire a number of close acquaintances.

Most of my heroes growing up were either sports stars or famous military generals. I’ve watched them perform and read their books page after page searching for inspiration. And often I have found it.

But now that I am forty-four years old, I have discovered that the greatest role models and the most inspirational figures in my life were the parents who I shared a home with during my youth. Intentionally or not, they provided me with the finest examples a boy could have ever observed as they revealed how to love, respect, and cherish each other every day.

Theologians debate as to what extent matches are made in Heaven. But if such a department does exist in the heavenly realm, the very angels in charge of the operation decided fifty years ago last week to reach down and gently touch the hearts of Johnny and Brenda Stroupe. And for that I am forever grateful.