SECOND LOOK WAS ALL IT TOOK
MELVIN AND DOROTHY HAYES WEDDING, JUNE 18, 1938.
I Concentrate On You — COLE PORTER, 1940
It’s not always the first person who catches your eye that matters. Take Melvin Hayes, for example—more than 70 years ago, he spotted his future wife Dorothy at a sledding party. “Somebody else caught my eye first,” Melvin recalled. “But then I saw her.”
A group of young people had built a big bonfire and spent the day sledding, and after Melvin saw Dorothy, no one else could hold his attention. They went down one run after another until their cheeks were pink and their noses red-tipped, then huddled close together at the fire warming their frozen fingers. As Melvin’s hands and feet thawed, so did his heart. Though three and a half years older, he was smitten with the petite Dorothy.
The details of their courtship have grown murky over time. “We didn’t ‘date,’” he said. “We just saw each other. It was the Depression—we didn’t have any money for dating.” In fact, Melvin felt grateful to be employed at a motor supply company. It wasn’t easy to get the job. “I showed up at eight in the morning and stood there until five in the evening, waiting to see the boss,” he said. “Jobs were hard to come by.”
Neither of them recalls the specifics of his proposal, either. “We just went together a long time,” Melvin said and shrugged. “There wasn’t a formal engagement.” However, they needed a little help to make it to the altar. Dorothy said, “Our mothers had to go with us to get our marriage license.” Melvin was 20 and Dorothy, 17—both too young to marry without parental consent.
On June 18, 1938, the couple married at Dorothy’s parents’ home. A simple family wedding suited them both. Melvin grinned. “I wouldn’t have stood for a flashy wedding!” They settled into a small one-bedroom home—really small. “Tall people couldn’t even get in the house without ducking,” he said. He earned $20 a week at the motor supply store. “I got a little raise when we got married,” he said. A year later when their daughter Marilyn arrived, he got another small raise. “Things were pretty tough,” he admitted.
Dorothy didn’t mind the lack of money. She’d always loved babies and was thrilled to learn she was expecting again. Unfortunately, she lost the baby, and seventy years later she’s still saddened by the memory. “It was difficult,” she said.
The birth of their son Melvin (Butch) in 1942, eased her sorrow, and things continued to improve for the family. Shortly after his son’s birth, Melvin got a job as an electrician at Hanford Engineer Works in south-central Washington. Established in 1943 as part of the Manhattan Project, Hanford was home to the B Reactor, the first full-scale plutonium production reactor in the world.
MELVIN HAYES, 1945.
He and Dorothy were delighted by the better wages and living quarters, but their delight was short-lived. A draft notice arrived in 1944, so Melvin took the Army physical and waited. The next year another draft notice arrived, so in February 1945, a month after his job at Hanford concluded, Melvin became a soldier. “I was 27-years-old when I left,” he said. “It was fun.”
Then he shook his head, and chuckled. “Not really! The military was the least of my ambition.” From her seat next to him Dorothy grinned and poked his shoulder. “I didn’t know you had ANY ambition!” Ignoring her ribbing, he continued. “I was stationed at Fort Lewis when the war with Japan ended and I thought they’d muster me out.” But that didn’t happen. Instead, in November 1945, he received orders to ship out. “They issued me a down sleeping blanket and a heavy coat,” he recalled. With all that gear, he was certain he was headed for Europe. He shook his head, “Then they sent me to Honolulu.” Though a trained electrician, he spent his time in the Army as a cook. Glancing at Dorothy, he said, “But I don’t cook at home!”
MELVIN HAYES HOME ON LEAVE, WITH SON BUTCH, 1945.
MELVIN HAYES, OCTOBER 1945.
Meanwhile, his wife and kids had moved in with her mother. Soon, Dorothy joined the ranks of working women at the telephone company. “I worked the switchboard from four until midnight. I took the bus to work and they sent me home in a taxi.” Because they had two small children, Dorothy petitioned the Red Cross and obtained a hardship discharge for Melvin. “I was home by the first of April,” he said.
He worked briefly for the railroad, before returning to his former job at the motor supply store. Two more children joined the family, Shellie in 1950, and Melinda in 1953. Eventually, he and a partner opened their own auto parts store in a neighboring small town. The couple enjoyed the town and the work, but they worried about their aging parents, so in 1964 Melvin took a job with a printing company in their hometown. Dorothy and the kids were happy to be closer to their extended family. For his part, Melvin loved his new job—in fact, he didn’t retire until he turned 90. His last pay stub is dated October 20, 2008. “I might still be there if the boss hadn’t died on me,” he said.
Once the kids were grown and gone, the couple made time for travel, despite Melvin’s long hours at work. “I didn’t get to go to Hawaii with him the first time,” Dorothy said. “But I’ve been with him several times since!” Melvin has been an El Katif Shriner since 1959, and they took many trips with fellow Shriners. In fact, he hasn’t had much luck retiring from that organization, either. “I’ve been the treasurer since 1980,” he said. Evidently, replacing Melvin is hard to do.
After 72 years of marriage, Dorothy is in no hurry to replace him. “We get along pretty good.” Smiling, she willingly confided the secret to their lasting union. “He does what I tell him to!” Melvin loves to garden and she loves to can. “Our 20 ft. by 30 ft. garden is now, 50 by 70, because he kept digging up the lawn,” she said, laughing.
Several years ago, the death of their eldest daughter brought a stark reminder of how precious time with loved ones can be. Since that time, each spring the couple and their three remaining children take a trip together—just the five of them. They’ve enjoyed their trips to Yellowstone and Glacier national parks.
Melvin may not be one for flowery romantic phrases, but his devotion to his wife is clear. He said the best part of a long marriage is the companionship. “It’s nice having someone with you all the time—it would be awful to live alone.” He’s long forgotten the name of the girl who first caught his eye at that sledding party so many years ago. He looked at Dorothy. “Once I saw her, I loved her. She was the one.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
DOROTHY AND MELVIN HAYES, 2011.
Photo courtesy J. Bart Rayniak, Spokesman Review
Dorothy Hayes died July 2, 2012