Moments in the Life of Charles Dailey
This page revised: 4/13/05

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Motivated to type
While it may not have been love at first sight, but it was very soon after. Darrell Reyman had moved to the neighborhood to live with his older brother Rodney and Barbara. His sister Lois came to visit church from her home in San Jose. Soon we were writing five days a week.

I had a small office at the high school because of my work in Plans and Training with the Cadet Corp. Buy I soon did a lot of non-work-related typing there.

We exchanged many dozens of letters during that year or so. (They weren't saved.) Lois was already becoming my confidant, but I didn't know what the word meant in those years. We just wrote our thoughts and experience and in this way began to share life and its values.

The writing was effective for both of us and evolved into much more. We've been married 56 extremely happy years now. I owe more than I can ever describe to Lois and her parents who trained her.
W. C. Lean, Jewelers

A friend in San Jose sent us some photos of the city as it was in an earlier day. We both spotted the jewelry store where we bought our engagement ring. I made a small down payment on the stone and put it in layaway. As the weeks past, I kept making little payments until finally I was the sole owner. It didn't take me long to get it on Lois' ring finger. Now we were another step along the way toward being one.

The little diamond ring is still in the family and is kept as an heirloom.

Happy Lovers

The photo shows us about 1949, the year before we wed in 1950. Lois was employed in San Jose and I was in Bible College and making a living. The car in the photo was mine. When I visited the Reyman acreage on Hillsdale Road, south of San Jose, Lois and I would frequently walk up on the hillside above the house. We climbed about 150 feet in elevation above the valley floor on the old dirt road and visited under the single, knarled Oak tree. We could plan for our future together and look out over the orchards. They seemed to stretch forever. The old Oak became "our spot." Sometimes Lois would sing "Mocking Bird Hill."

The years past. The old Oak was replaced by a house. Our memory of the old tree was dimming. But we learned recently that Lois' sister Cordie had painted the tree in oils. And we acquired the painting. Now it hangs over our bed, an everyday reminder of our earlier love and enthusiasm for the future. Now, that future is nearly history. We revel in our memories.

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