The year was 1975. It took place on Flag-Day, Saturday, June 14th. That was forty-five years ago. Forty-five years is a long time to know someone. It’s a long time to be close friends with anyone. She is my closest.

These days, it’s certainly a long time to be married to anyone, but in many ways, it seems like it’s only been a few years. That is the date when Jean Willis and I exchanged vows, at Broadway Baptist Church, in Rainsville, Alabama. I wanted to get married on Friday, so we would have a long weekend for our honeymoon. Friday was the thirteenth. Jean said she was not superstitious, but she was not getting married on Friday-the-Thirteenth. She must have been onto something, because this has worked out quite well.

We didn’t know it then, but we were little more than kids when we married. Jean was eighteen and I was one month from being twenty. The odds were not in our favor. We had barely started our college educations. We packed up and moved to Birmingham, for me to enroll at Samford University. We had little money and no jobs. We had no idea where we might get either. For the next twenty-years, we took turns going to school and eating peanut-butter sandwiches. We were completely on our own financially, so we could not afford to go to school at the same time. Jean worked at Samford, while I finished my degree there. Then we moved to New Orleans so I could attend the seminary there. Jean worked at Catholic Charities. A few years later, we moved to Rainbow City, Alabama, where I served as pastor of White Springs Baptist Church. Jean commuted to Jacksonville University to finish her bachelors. The exact day she graduated, I received my acceptance letter into the doctoral-program at New Orleans Seminary. Then we moved to Southaven, Mississippi, where I served at Gracewood Baptist Church. Jean taught school there and finished two advanced degrees in education at Delta State. Young people, it’s not always easy, but it can be done.

We’ve seen some hard days. I’ve accused Jean of being like a cat with nine-lives. She almost lost one in a really bad wreck in 1982. She has survived two major, life-threatening surgeries since then, not to mention several smaller ones. A few years ago, she had pulmonary-embolisms in both lungs. She has seen me through cancer surgery and almost losing one eye. We’ve survived all that, building a house, and raising a teenager! That teenager turned into a wonderful woman, married a good man, and gave us one magnificent grandson.

For our honeymoon, we spent two-nights and three-days in fabulous Panama City Beach. We would have gone further and stayed longer if there had been a few more funds. We saved enough money to buy groceries once we returned to Birmingham. I think it was $35.00. This year we had that big trip planned to the west, but Ms. Corona changed those plans. We’ve decided to head back to the beach for two-nights and three-days. No, not Panama City, but Dauphin Island. We many even slip over to Ocean Springs, Mississippi, for some barbecue at The Shed. Maybe for our fiftieth, we can make that trip out west, or at least all the way down to Destin!

Thank you, Jean Willis King, for putting up with me all these years. Our life has not always been easy, but it has been good. I am one blessed man. We have had some great times and we have had some hard times. With God’s help, He has seen us through it all. There is no one else I would spend my life with.

— Bill King is a native of Rainsville, where he and his wife graduated from Plainview High School. King is a director of missions in Opelika, a writer, musician and author. His column appears in the Times-Journal Thursdays edition. Visit for more information.

(0) comments

Welcome to the discussion.

Keep it Clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language.
Don't Threaten. Threats of harming another person will not be tolerated.
Be Truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyone or anything.
Be Nice. No racism, sexism or any sort of -ism that is degrading to another person.
Be Proactive. Use the 'Report' link on each comment to let us know of abusive posts.
Share with Us. We'd love to hear eyewitness accounts, the history behind an article.