60 years, no joke

HAYDEN - Sixty years together? No big deal, says Mariann Larson.

Really, she insists as she sits across the table from Dave Larson, her husband of six decades.

"There's nothing unusual about our marriage, actually," she says. "We got married and we had children, the years passed and here we are. We're lucky enough to still be together."

Her parents were married more than 60 years. His, more than 50.

"Divorce just isn't in our family," Mariann adds.

Dave smiles and says, "We decided to fight it out until the bitter end."

Then, chuckling, he adds this: "We made a pact for 99 years, so we have 39 to go."

Both laugh as they trade glances. He is a stout 81, she is a fit 78. They have two children, five grandchildren, five great-grandchildren. This has been a marriage built on hard work, conversation, perseverance, and yes, lots of laughs. Little goes further in keeping man and wife united like a sense of humor, Mariann says.

"Dave's got a terrific sense of humor and I'm a good straight man," she said.

"Second banana," Dave said with a grin.

But really, there is no first or second in this relationship.

As the Hayden couple sit down for 30 minutes or so to talk about their life together, what's made them stick, Dave shows a serious side as he explains that he has asked his wife many, many times, "How come you picked me?"

To which his wife smiles sweetly, and gives him a look. He knows the answer.

They don't even have to say it.

Love, of course.

Dave recounts the tale of the night he met his future wife at a school dance in February 1951 in Dixon, Mont. It was not the first time he had seen her, though. That came a few years prior, and then, he was a bit taken with the young beauty. She stood out in the small town.

"I was waiting for her to grow up a little bit," he joked.

Later, he became friends with Bill Moore, Mariann's older brother - though he didn't know he was her brother. They were chatting when Bill Moore said he wanted to visit his sister. They hopped into a 1941 Buick and set out.

It was a beautiful, clear February day, Dave Larson said. About halfway there, Bill Moore said something about his sister, Mariann.

Dave was suddenly listening closely.

"I said, 'Your sister is named Mariann? Mariann Moore is your sister?'"

Yes, came the answer

"I"ll be damned," Dave said.

They arrived at the dance hall, and Mariann ran over to greet her brother. It was the same girl that caught Dave's eye years before.

Dave knew it right then. She was the one. He would marry this girl.

"I was leaning up against the wall. I said, 'Hi Mariann.' We just went from there," he said.

It was one of those storied whirlwind romances, and they married Sept. 1, 1951. She was 18, he was 21.

"We both knew what we wanted," she said.

Others weren't so sure.

"I think most of our family said this will never work." she said.

But it did.

"We made it work," she said. "There were tough times, there were really good times."

Their first home was a 7-foot by 25-foot mobile home.

"It had a shower, no light," Dave recalled. "It was all lined with aluminum inside and it had a little tiny wash basin."

"That was the deluxe model," he added with a laugh.

It wasn't always easy or fun, they agreed.

Dave, a heavy equipment operator, was often away from home, months at a time. Eighty-hour work weeks in Alaska were standard. Mariann pretty much raised the kids in their home outside Missoula, Mont.

"Construction is kind of an up and down type of life, but we made it work," she said. "Dave was a really hard worker, and I'm independent. I didn't mind being alone. I could manage by myself."

Son Jim learned to hunt and fish. Daughter Debby loved horses and was involved in 4-H.

"We had a good life," Mariann said.

Later, when the kids were older and in high school, they moved to the city.

Over the years, they bought houses, fixed them up, and sold them. Finally, they earned enough to pay cash for their own place.

"I think all of our family thought we were absolutely crazy," she said. "But every time we did that we took the money we made in profit and turned it into another house."

Dave retired in 1995 at age 64, though he points out he was called often by those who needed his skills, and he returned to work.

"I had to stop answering my phone," he said, smiling.

They moved from Polson, Mont., to Hayden 10 years ago to be closer to family that includes five great-grandsons.

"The Larson name is good for another hundred years," Dave said proudly.

The snowbirds, who will head to Arizona come winter, have overcome their own health challenges. Dave has battled heart problems, recently had another stent put in, and underwent bypass surgery. Mariann survived a bout with cancer.

"You have to have perseverance," she said.

And don't forget, humor.

Before Dave's bypass surgery, he didn't look too hot, and his wife let him know it.

"I told him he looked like roadkill," she said, laughing. "He was so pale and gray."

Laughter, they say, is the best medicine. The Larsons will attest to that.

Their daughter, Debby Mongeau, who is married to Albert today and lives in Hayden, said her parents endured the good times - and the bad.

"It hasn't been 60 blissful years. It can't be. They endure through whatever. Because of that, they left that legacy to all of us," she said as she prepared a barbecue in her parents' honor at her home.

Debbie and Albert Mongeau have been married 25 years. Her brother Jim's marriage is going on 35 years.

"We all have that sense, this is a one-time shot," she said. "So that's nice, in today's world."

The silent treatment, common in many marriages, including the Larsons' early on, doesn't work. Never has, never will.

"You might be so mad you want to do away with each other for a while, but if you calm down and think about it, you can usually find something to laugh about," Dave said.

"You need to talk to work things out," Mariann adds.

Oh, and traveling doesn't hurt, either. They love to travel.

"We've driven to every state in the union," Dave said.

"Coast to coast, Alaska to Mexico," Mariann added.

So they'll continue to hit the road, to visit old friends, to see places they haven't yet seen, to enjoy life together.

"It ain't the light at the end of the tunnel yet," Dave said.

Nope. Not even close.

There are plenty of laughs ahead.