November 11, 2005

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Publication Date: Friday, November 11, 2005

I'll be loving you -- Always

Junie was just out of high school and Bill was, too. They met at a dance for servicemen in Oakland. It was 1943, the country was at war, and Bill Green had just joined the Navy. Although he shipped out soon after he started dating June, for both it was love at first sight.

It wasn't long before June, too, would join the Navy. Bill would serve as a surgery technician on board the U.S.S. Cullman in submarine-infested waters. June, working as a lab technician, was stationed close to home at the John Muir Island Naval Hospital.

When, two years after they first met, the two tied the knot on June 1, 1946, June soon had her discharge papers. The Navy didn't allow married women to enlist in those days. Bill's ship was in Tokyo Bay when articles of surrender were signed on board the U.S.S. Missouri. Bill came home to begin life with June.

For many years, he was the friendly face behind the pharmacy counter at the drug store he owned on West Las Positas. The Greens moved to Pleasanton in 1974. June said, "All the people who were here when we were just a little hamlet all know him." Smiling, she adds, "He had the kindest heart."

Bill was retired and both were 73 years old when June opened Catholic gift shops in Pleasanton and Hayward she named "Glad Tidings." By then, the couple's seven children were grown and only one daughter, Pat, remained in Pleasanton.

It wasn't long, though, before June and Bill had to give up the Glad Tidings stores. June developed a rare autoimmune condition that cost her both legs. Bill, a lifelong smoker and indulgent eater developed congestive heart failure.

As their health declined, their bond grew stronger. June would swing herself up out of her wheelchair into their big bed to spoon with Bill. When phantom pain in her missing limbs kept sleep at bay, she moved to a Lazy-Boy in the living room. Awakening, she would find Bill bedded down on the floor beside her.

Four months ago, Bill succumbed to his heart problems but, despite her disability, June, now 80, refuses to abandon the home they shared.

The backyard remains adorned with the birdhouses he built. Ceramics he made in her favorite shade of pink still top her cabinets, and, on the answering machine, it's still Bill's cheery voice that urges callers to leave a message. Sometimes June waits to pick up the phone, saying, "He's going to talk now."

Despite their closeness, June never poked around inside a cabinet on Bill's side of the bed until she was looking for something for one of her sons. When she did open it, inside she found assorted World War II memorabilia Bill had saved.

Papers included the shipboard newspaper -- the "Cullman Courier" -- that reported, "TOKYO--Sunday Sept. 2, 1945. The attention of the world focused today on the battleship Missouri in Tokyo Bay where at 10:45 this morning, Japan formally signed the articles of surrender, ending the costliest war in the history of human conflict."

More interesting to June, though, was Bill's account of that moment in a lengthy letter he wrote his mother: "Suddenly out of nowhere the sky was filled with planes. The huge B29s numbered up in the thousands, it seemed to me, and the Navy fighters and torpedo bombers numbered up into the hundreds. Such a noise I have never heard before and what a sight, oh my god. My knees seemed to want to buckle. I choked up and couldn't hardly talk. Boy was I ever happy. When I looked out on the right ... (there was) the battleship Missouri with all her guns pointing straight up in the air and the decks lined up with sailors in whites standing at rigid attention. At that same moment over the radio the peace terms were signed. I could not only see it, but hear it on the radio. How about that? How many people can say that? ------Slight pause I am even about to faint just telling you about it."

June confides, "I read it every day."

Asked what her secret is for a long and happy marriage, June points to the single word she'd had inscribed inside her husband's wedding ring: "Always" - a reference to the couple's favorite song.

"I'll be loving you - Always

With a love that's true - Always

When the things you've planned

Need a helping hand

I will understand - Always

...

Not for just an hour

Not for just a day

Not for just a year

But Always." -- Irving Berlin (1925)

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