ROMANCE ON WHEELS
TUCKER WEDDING PHOTO, NOVEMBER 11, 1945.
Always — IRVING BERLIN, 1925
During the 1940s and ’50s, many lasting love stories began in a roller rink. That’s just what happened to Harold “Tom” Tucker and his bride, Shirley. “I was a sailor stationed at Farragut Naval Training Station,” Tom said. “I got liberty and came into Spokane to roller skate.”
It was April 1944 and he and other sailors on leave often took a bus to Cook’s Roller Rink. Shirley, 17, was a senior at North Central High School. When she skated past, Tom noticed. “I saw her and I thought, WOW! I gotta meet that lady!” They skated together, but Shirley wasn’t swept off her feet. She shrugged. “He was alright.”
Tom laughed. “She just liked sailors,” he teased.
“Oh stop that!” she retorted.
An avid skater, the roller rink was Shirley’s favorite place to go. She was there several times a week. “It only cost 35 cents!” A few weeks later Tom showed up at Cook’s again and quickly sought her out. This time he asked for her address and phone number. They skated every couples skate together and held hands. “Oh boy! That was fun!” Shirley said. Her parents weren’t thrilled about her dating a sailor, but they figured the youthful romance would quickly blow over.
SHIRLEY CAMPBELL IN SKATES JUST PRIOR TO HER MARRIAGE TO TOM TUCKER, NOVEMBER 1945.
TOM SHORTLY AFTER MEETING SHIRLEY, MAY 1944.
It didn’t.
After skating, Tom would walk her home from the bus stop, often. They’d often pause and sit on a wooden fence that surrounded a sand pit. “That’s where I kissed her for the first time,” said Tom. “The wind came up and blew my hat off. Down it went, into the sand pit. She’s a powerful kisser to blow my hat right off!”
In August, Tom asked her father for Shirley’s hand in marriage. “I was madly in love by then,” she said. Her father’s response? “Absolutely not! You are both too young.” Shirley was heartbroken, knowing Tom would soon be sent overseas.
“I cried and cried,” she said. But her father held firm and when Tom shipped out for the South Pacific, she didn’t have a ring on her finger. A flurry of letters ensued, but the first one Shirley received puzzled her. “It was from ‘Harold’ Tucker,” she said. “I didn’t know any Harold Tuckers!” It seems his fellow sailors at Farragut had christened her beau Tom, as in the nursery rhyme “Little Tommy Tucker,” and the name stuck. With that mystery cleared up, Shirley anxiously awaited his missives.
One day a letter arrived and with it came an engagement ring.
“My folks didn’t say anything that time,” Shirley said. “They could see it was serious.” Also serious was the trauma that Tom was about to endure. The 19-year-old hospital corpsman was stationed aboard the USS LaGrange and anchored at Buckner Bay near Okinawa.
One night, 13 Japanese twin-engine bombers attacked.
“They hit every ship around us, but didn’t hit us,” said Tom. “We were young. We stood on the fantail and cheered the anti-aircraft fire. We hollered every time they shot down a plane.” Then on August 13, 1945, two days before the war ended, the LaGrange was attacked by two kamikaze pilots. One plane struck the ship and damaged it before crashing into the water. The other, carrying a bomb, plunged through three decks before the bomb detonated.
TOM AND SHIRLEY DATING, AUGUST 1944.
TOM AND FRIENDS FROM FARRAGUT WITH SHIRLEY’S MOM, AUGUST 1944. (THIS PHOTO WAS ONE TOM RECOVERED FROM THE BAY AFTER THE ATTACK ON THE USS LAGRANGE).
“I was in the dental office trying to write a letter to Shirley,” Tom said. “I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I went to the mess hall to watch a movie. Five minutes later, the bomb went right through the dental office. The next morning I found my belongings floating in the water.” In the following hours, Tom did his best to care for the wounded and dying.
“There was fire on the deck—so many men were badly burned. One guy asked for water. I gave him a sip and held his head while he drank. The back of his head came off in my hand. He died 30 minutes later,” said Tom.
Another sailor’s head had been split in half. Grimly, Tom put the pieces together so the man could be identified. Glancing at her husband, Shirley said, “People really don’t know what these guys went through at 18 and 19.” The event so shook Tom that he wrote Shirley a letter saying, “Forget about the wedding. We’re not getting married.”
Stunned, Shirley wept bitterly. Her father cautioned her to wait before replying. She recalled, “He said, “You wait before you reply. Wait until you’re not so upset.’” She listened to his advice and was glad she did because soon another letter from Tom arrived. This one apologized for his earlier note and asked her to make wedding plans.
On November 11, 1945, while on a 30-day leave, Tom and Shirley were married. They took a honeymoon trip to Illinois so Shirley could meet his family. However, Tom had to take a train back to his duty station, meaning Shirley must return to Washington, alone. “I was terrified,” she said. “I’d never been anywhere by myself!” A kindly porter watched over her and she made it home safely. Like many newlyweds at the time, the couple spent the first six months of married life living apart. When Tom was discharged in the spring of 1946, he joined her in Spokane. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to stay in the area. He told Shirley, “I want to go home.” He’d had a hard time adjusting to the Pacific Northwest. “I thought I was in prison,” he said. “I couldn’t see because of the big trees and mountains!”
THE TUCKERS ON THEIR HONEYMOON IN ILLINOIS, NOVEMBER 1945.
So off to Illinois they went. However, after a few months Tom turned his bride and said, “Honey, I want to go home.” This time home meant Spokane.
Their family quickly grew with the birth of three children; Douglas in 1947, Ronald in 1949 and Pattie in 1951. In 1950, Tom joined the police department and was assigned to the motorcycle unit. He soon found out why motorcycle officers got hazard pay. While responding to a fire, Tom was struck by a car. “We didn’t wear helmets back then,” he said. “They didn’t know if I was going to live for three days.” A patrol car picked Shirley up to take her to the hospital and unfortunately, drove right past the accident scene. The sight of her husband’s wrecked motorcycle is something she’s never forgotten. But Tom recovered and six months later he was back on motorcycle patrol.
After 25 years on the force, Tom retired and then took a job as an investigator for the state Department of Revenue. He was also very active in the Masonic Lodge, and in his 60s became an ordained minister, serving for a time as interim pastor of a local church.
SHIRLEY STILL HAS THE SKATES SHE WORE THE DAY SHE AND TOM MET.
TOM’S SOUVENIRS FROM THE ATTACK ON THE USS LAGRANGE.
For 69 years, the Tuckers supported and encouraged each other. “We talk about everything and make all our decisions together,” said Shirley. “He has always been there for me—always.”
Perhaps it’s no coincidence that the name of “their song” is Always. It was sung at their wedding and played at their 50th anniversary. Smiling at the memory, Tom sang, “I’ll be loving you, always …”
He looked across the room at the girl he first saw at the roller rink so many years ago and said, “She’s the other half of me.”
LOVE LESSON
“Be supportive of each other’s interests. Tom doesn’t like to dig in the dirt, but I love to garden and he comes out there and weeds with me.”—Shirley Tucker
SHIRLEY AND TOM TUCKER, DECEMBER 2014.