I’VE GOT YOUR NUMBER
SNELL WEDDING, DECEMBER 31, 1947.
Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain — FRED ROSE, 1945
Bob Snell knows how to seize a moment. In December 1946, he and a friend attended a dance at the Half Moon Grange, where he spotted Demaris (Dee) Brooks. “She was with another guy,” recalled Bob. But when her date left to use the restroom, Bob took advantage of his absence.
“He asked me to dance,” Dee said, laughing. “I liked the other fellow, but I liked Bob better. He had big blue eyes and he was so tall and handsome.” By the time her date returned to claim her, Bob had secured Dee’s phone number. Or so he thought. Weeks passed and Dee wondered why her blue-eyed dance partner didn’t call, but it turned out she’d given him her address and not her phone number. Undeterred, he spent hours going through the phone book, trying to match her address with a phone number. “I finally found it,” he said.
His persistence had been honed during his time in the service. After graduating from high school in 1942, Bob received a draft notice. “I wanted to join the Navy, but I flunked the color blind test, so I joined the Army.” After completing basic training, he decided to become a paratrooper. Bob said, “My biggest motivation was greed—they doubled my salary from $50 to $100!”
He quickly found out how he’d be earning that pay. The young soldier had never even been on an airplane, and six decades later, he shook his head as he recalled, “On my first plane ride, they made me jump out!” With four weeks of Jump School under his belt, Bob and his unit traveled to North Africa. “I was there for awhile—we were kind of lost, I guess,” he said, chuckling. From there they were sent to Italy where Bob received a lasting wartime souvenir during the Battle of Anzio. While under heavy fire, he took cover at the corner of a house. As he fired his rifle, an enemy bullet penetrated his right arm, shattering both the bones. The date? February 16, 1944—exactly one year since he’d been inducted.
“I guess I was lucky. I got it there,” he said pointing to his arm, “Instead of here,” he said, and thumped his chest. Medics set his arm in a field hospital and Bob was sent stateside to recuperate. His paratroop adventure was over. After seven months and several surgeries, he finally returned home. Due to nerve and muscle damage, he still can’t completely unclench his right hand.
But those scars didn’t stop him from dancing with Dee. Or from asking her out once he finally tracked down her phone number. Their first date proved unexpectedly memorable. “We went out to dinner,” Bob said. “I ordered fish and got a fish bone caught in my throat and started choking.”
BOB SNELL (RIGHT) AND HIS BROTHER, JOHN.
Did his date rush to his rescue? Did she call for help?
No.
Dee said, “I started laughing and I couldn’t stop!” Her less than empathetic reaction didn’t keep Bob from asking for a second date, and a third.
Like many post-war couples, their courtship was hampered by transportation issues. “I was slow on dates because I didn’t have a car,” he said. “I got tired of taking the bus to her house, so I finally bought a used Dodge.” That car came in handy. Three months after their first date, Bob proposed to Dee as they sat in her driveway in the Dodge. “I wondered if it was a little soon,” Dee said. “But I said yes, right away—I didn’t want to lose him.” The fact that her parents approved of him gave her added confidence.
The couple married on December 31, 1947, and rented a house for $78 a month. For many years Bob worked for Remington Rand as a typewriter repairman, and later spent 26 years working for an office equipment company. In 1948 Dee gave birth to their first child, a son they named Steve. The family grew with the addition of two daughters, one in 1949 and another in 1954. And in 1964, when Steve was a senior in high school, a third daughter made a surprise appearance.
Like many parents, the Snells time with their kids at home flew by in a whirl of sporting events and school activities. An accomplished seamstress, Dee was awarded a certificate of recognition for sewing countless tiny garments and donating them to a local hospital for families whose babies had been stillborn.
When Bob retired and the kids had flown the nest, the couple enjoyed traveling. Sadly, their son Steve battled melanoma and passed away at 35, but they took comfort in their growing brood of grandchildren. “Steve’s son is the spitting image of his dad,” Dee said.
Several years ago, grandson Jeff accompanied Bob on a trip to Italy. They revisited many of the places he’d been during the war, and Bob returned with a certificate of honor from the citizens of Anzio, which read, “The City of Anzio honors those who fought so valiantly, without fearing for their own lives on the beachhead during the battle of Anzio. Lest we forget.”
“We found a few buildings that were there when I was and we went to the National Cemetery,” said Bob. “I brought home a jar of sand from the beachhead.” In July 2010, Bob traveled to Washington D.C. to see the World War II Memorial courtesy of the Honor Flight program. Like so many veterans, Bob found the flight and the memorial incredibly moving.
The Snells admit their marital seas haven’t always offered smooth sailing. “We’ve had a lot of disagreements,” Bob said.
Dee agreed. “We’ve always said what was on our minds.” But her husband quickly pointed out, “We don’t hold anything back. We don’t have any secrets.” And he’s delighted that the moment he seized more than six decades ago has resulted in a lifetime love affair. When asked which years have been their happiest, Bob puzzled over the question. Finally, he looked at Dee and said, “They’ve all been happy.”
She smiled back at him. “He’s very understanding, loving and sweet. He’s always been that way. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Placing her timeworn hand atop his crippled fingers, she said, “We’ve had a wonderful life.”
LOVE LESSON
“The key to our happy relationship is pretty simple—we listen to each other.”—Bob Snell
BOB AND DEE SNELL, 2010.
Dee Snell died July 6, 2012