They always have each other’s back

In the wee hours of a late summer night in 1991, Don’s mingling with friends and strangers at Memories Margate brought him to the barstool next to Marcia’s.

Don was a 35-year-old writer and adjunct professor of writing and creative writing from Oxford Circle who had returned to Philadelphia after seven frustrating years of scriptwriting in L.A. He had spent the Shore season flirting his way around the beach and crashing at his parents’ condo.

Marcia was a 40-year-old office manager for a small Center City architecture firm, born in Brooklyn and raised from the age of 7 in West Philadelphia and Overbrook Park. She was spending her summer in a shared house in Ventnor.

“He bought me a drink and we started talking,” Marcia remembered.

“She was such a happy girl,” said Don. “That was the sexy thing about her: She was so upbeat.”

“We were getting along well, and then he said he could drive me home,” Marcia said. Several of her friends were with her that night and one of them had met Don a few years earlier, when her sister was one of a group of people renting a Shore house with him. “I thought, ‘He’s kind of cute, so why not?’ And since one of my housemates knew of him, I figured he was not a serial killer.”

After their two-mile drive to Ventnor, Don and Marcia walked the boardwalk. “It was a 20-minute first kiss,” said Don. “I almost ran out of air.”

“I don’t remember you complaining,” Marcia said wryly.

They had fun for the rest of that dwindling summer. Then, surprising both of them, their relationship flourished on the other side of the Delaware River.

Don had dated plenty, but he wasn’t going to settle down unless he could have something as strong as his parents’ relationship, and the right person had previously eluded him.

“The night I met Marcia, I had invited four different girls to meet me at Memories. Two weeks later, I only wanted to see Marcia,” Don said. “She’s honest, up front, and the best teammate I’ve ever seen.”

Marcia had not dated much before Don. The men she met didn’t really interest her, so she never saw the point. “I didn’t need to go on a date for someone to buy me dinner, as I could buy my own dinner,” she said.

With Don, Marcia saw the point. “He’s probably the kindest man I’ve ever met,” she said. “He’s very sensitive — sweet, loving, and generous. He’s fun. And he would never say anything unkind. He just gets annoyed when I’m funnier than him — which happens pretty often.”

In May of 1994, Marcia moved in with Don in the Northeast. They enjoyed traveling together — to Saratoga with friends, to California, and every summer, to Ventnor. Professionally, Marcia, who is now 71, became the office manager at Israel Bonds — a position she held for nearly two decades before retiring. Don, who is now 67, taught English and creative writing at several local colleges and universities. He continues to write — including a growing collection of poetry for Marcia, some of which is included in his book How to Write Poems for Loved Ones and Save a Ton of Money on Gifts. His other books include A Writer’s First Aid Kit and 3 Cousins, a collection of nonfiction short stories about his family that the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum accepted into its collection in 2018.

In August of 2000, the couple were walking on the Ventnor boardwalk when Don asked Marcia to sit on a bench near the place they had kissed for the first time nine years earlier. He knelt in front of her.

“Will you …” he said before losing his words.

“Will I what?” teased Marcia.

“You know what I mean,” said Don.

She did. And she said yes.

On Dec. 10 of that year, they were married at Kesher Israel in Philadelphia. Marcia’s father, Morris, had died when she was 14, so her Uncle Irving traveled from California to walk her down the aisle. After the ceremony, 52 people joined the couple for a reception at an Italian restaurant, including Marcia’s mother, Frances, her Uncle Irving and Aunt Iris, and Don’s parents, Bernard and Bernice.

“Because we had two free nights in a casino hotel, for our big honeymoon we went to Atlantic City,” said Marcia. Every year since, the two have celebrated their anniversary with travel to destinations including Jamaica, Aruba, Key West, and several cities in California.

After their honeymoon, the couple moved to a Bensalem apartment.

In March 2016, Marcia’s abdomen was strangely puffy. A CAT scan showed a suspicious mass, and she was given an oncology appointment for the very next morning. “This is not good,” she told Don. Anticipating an immediate hospital stay, she took a packed bag with her.

Don said his prayers were more a pleading negotiation. “Listen, we both know I’ve had some bizarre bad luck in my career,” he said to God. “Fame and fortune was dangled in front of me, yet always yanked away, sometimes in excruciating fashion. That’s because I was saving all my luck for right now. Please save Marcia, save our love here on Earth.”

Marcia could not bear the thought of Don’s grief. She directed her words at her doctors: “Put me in the hospital and get this thing out of me,” she said. “I have a life to live.” That Friday — April Fools’ Day — she underwent a four-hour surgery. Don was eating a pear in the waiting room when the surgeon told him they were able to remove all of the mass. Since then, April Fools’ Day has been the couple’s lucky day, and the core of the lucky pear remains frozen in their freezer.

“Now we say, ‘If it’s not a health problem, it’s not a problem,’ ” Don said.

Marcia remains cancer-free.

The couple plans to take another trip to Florida this year. They enjoy regular visits with Marcia’s mother, who will soon turn 102. But most of the time, they enjoy each other’s company right at home.

Don, who taught himself to cook after receiving a wok as a consolation prize on The Dating Game in 1978, makes dinner. Marcia does the prep work.

When they watch Philly sports or a movie, he sits on the floor in front of her lounge chair so she can rub his shoulders and back with her feet.

The keys to their happiness: always considering the other and, when needed, taking up the slack.

“We put each other first,” said Marcia.

“When tax season comes, I don’t have to think about it,” Don said. “When we go to Florida, she won’t have to do any of the driving.”

Love isn’t just about marriage, and love stories don’t stop at the wedding: We’re looking for stories about all kinds of love from parents and children, best friends, siblings, newlyweds and to-be-weds, and couples with experience. To be featured in a Love column, please send an email to love@inquirer.com with your names, a few sentences about your story and the best way to reach you. Please include your email address.