Wedding, 11 July 1964
After three years of acquaintance, dating for three years, and three more years of (mostly long-distance) engagement, Valerie and I did actually get married. At the fairly new Los Angeles Temple, sealed by its first president, Benjamin Bowring,1 as witnessed formally by our two fathers and accompanied by a bunch of loving relatives.

The day started early and squeezed in a lot of important stuff. Our brains, although young and flexible, did saturate out, and we remember only one of President Bowring’s wise counsels: “Richard,” said he, “never let a day end before Valerie has heard you thank the Lord for her. Valerie, don’t let the sun go down until Richard has heard you thank the Lord for him.”

Ever since, for close to half a century, we’ve made it a point to follow that counsel.2 And we’re ’way more in love now than we had sense enough to be, back then.
1Family legend has it that our Mammy, Leola Seely, and young Ben Bowring were an item at Brigham City High School, back in the 1920s. I also hear that he really liked to perform weddings and kept track of the names of all the couples he joined in various temples. Either fact might account for his willingness to do the honors for us.
2Now (since The Year 2000) that I have the privilege of solemnizing such unions, that’s the only piece of advice I permit myself to offer to the really adorable young people who come to Boston and Bountiful (and other temples that my descendants may select) for the purpose. That’s OK—as officiator, I’m practically never around to follow up on whatever I may say.
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