April 23, 1955

“The bride, given in marriage by her father was dressed in a laced bodice with a Queen Ann standing collar with long sleeves. The nylon tulle skirt was paneled in lace and had a full length cathedral train. She wore a Juliet cap of lace with her imported French Illusion veil. She also wore an heirloom pin and earrings worn by her grandmother. In her bridal bouquet were tiny rosebuds mixed with white snapdragon and stephanotis tied with satin ribbons.”

That’s how the wedding announcement read in the Peabody Times; all I know is that she looked beautiful. An angel awaited me at the altar.

I have to start by telling you that I have known my wife longer than she has known me. I met her when I was a little boy, maybe around four years old. I didn’t know then, but our families were connected. She was in a baby carriage and as I looked at her my mother told me that I would have to be patient and wait till she got older; I was patient and I waited.

So…twenty or so years later, on a beautiful spring day in 1954, April 24th to be exact, I attended the wedding of my cousin, Marilyn Fossa at St. Thomas church in Salem. The reception was at Hamilton Hall, which was also in Salem, and when I got there and I gazed across the room I saw her. I was struck in the heart; it was truly as they say, love at first sight. I was in a quandary though. I didn’t know if we were related, being at the same wedding and all. I asked my mother and to my delight we were not related. It seems her grand-aunt, Juliette Creeden, had married my uncle Dan Callahan, so we had mutual cousins. Now since there were now no obstacles, I asked her to dance and from then on she consumed my thoughts. I could not get her out of my mind. Her name was Nancy Nicoline Creeden, but to me and everyone else she was always known as Niki.

After the wedding Niki returned to Portland, but a week later she returned to the area to meet with relatives in Danvers. I had been dating someone at the time, as was she. I actually had a couple girls on the line. One had moved to Washington, DC and I had carried on a correspondence with her. The other girl I had just started dating, but that would soon end graciously. I didn’t want to date anyone else, I couldn’t date anyone else; I was head over heels. I decided to call her.

Our first date was at the Colonial restaurant in Lynnfield. It was quite the restaurant and she thought I was rich, at first. She soon found out I was just an average guy, one that was in love with her. We started dating and I would drive to Maine almost every weekend. She worked for United States Fidelity Guaranty Company in Portland and I worked at Rowe Motor, a Ford dealership in Peabody, and would go to Maine to buy parts or pick-up cars. One night as I left her house I realized I only had 87 cents and I needed gas. We looked around the house for some change, but couldn’t find any. I kissed her good-bye and started heading out and stopped at a gas station at the edge of town, with my 87 cents. When the gas attendant asked how much gas I needed, I told him; 87 cents. He asked where I was traveling to and I told him Peabody. He then looked at me and asked if I wanted a prayer to go with the gas. Well, he must have said a prayer because I made it home.

Niki and I continued our long distance relationship and like I said before I was a patient man, but I had waited long enough. I proposed to her 3 months later during one of my trips to Portland. It was the Fourth of July weekend of 1954. We were married one day short of the anniversary of our first date.

While visiting her that Fourth of July weekend I was nearly killed when the water heater in her apartment had malfunctioned and had sucked most of the oxygen out of the apartment while I was showering. We discovered it in time and dodge that bullet, however years later there would be another bullet I would miss, although not without some Touch-n-Go as they say.

Our wedding was 10 a.m. at Saint Joseph’s church in Portland, and was officiated by the Right Reverend Monsignor George Johnson. Our reception was at the North Deering Grange Hall, Portland. Mother was dressed in dusty rose lace dress, her hat matching of course, and I gave her a pink rose corsage. Father was in his best suit. My sister, Eleanor, was Niki’s Maid of Honor and my brother, Jack, was my Best Man. My new brother-in-law, Eric Lunn, and my brother, Bob, were the Ushers. Everyone looked great and it was the best wedding I ever attended, although the day did not go without a hitch. Mrs. Rodden, a friend of my mother, had a heart attack at the reception; she survived but it was a scary moment.

We honeymooned in Buffalo, NY and eastern Canada and our first born child, a boy was born on January 28, 1956. I will help you with the math. Nine month and 5 day. My mother, after counting the fingers on her hands, gave a sigh of relief after she did the math. We named him David Brian Quinn; my wife liked the actor David Brian and thought it was a great name. We never called him David though, we called him Brian.

When we returned from our honeymoon we moved into our first home. It was a rental, at 40 Washington Street, and was just perfect and then the kids started coming. After Brian, next to arrive was Karen Ann, in 1957, and then Andrea Camilla, in 1959. In 1962 we moved to the western end of town, to Russell Street, where, after I was told I could probably have no more children because of my accident, our youngest child was born. Edward Daniel Quinn, Jr. came into the world in 1964. Although, again like Brian, we didn’t call him Ed, little Ed or Junior, he was, as my wife called him, her little Teddy. We lived and loved for the next 40 plus years at that Russell Street home.

We have had a wonderful life together and we just celebrated our 53 wedding anniversary. We didn’t celebrate it our normal way, her being in a nursing home, and with her Alzheimer’s disease she doesn’t know how I am. So…like I said at the beginning, I have known my wife longer than she has known me.