That's Life: Funds for Life
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I will cooperate and spend the money as the government is hoping everyone who receives such a payment will do — giving credence to the term "stimulus package."
With the cost of everything constantly rising nowadays, it will not be difficult to find ways to use $250.
I purchased my wedding gown for $250, 46 years ago. It was a pure white Empire-style with a chapel train flowing from it. I knew it was the right one for me the moment I tried it on.
Bill, my fiance, and I were employed by the Continental Can Co., located on 41st Street in New York City, and we decided to wed in a church we had attended when Holy Days of obligation fell during the workweek. The church was especially beautiful and was midway between where his family and my family lived.
On May 25, 1963, about halfway into the hourlong drive from my parent's home on Long Island, the limousine driver said to me, "We are making very good time, would you mind if I stopped at the diner for coffee." I said it would be all right if he was sure we would be on time for the ceremony.
As he climbed out of the driver's seat, he said. "I'll bring back a cup of coffee for you."
"Oh no," I said, thinking it would be nothing short of a disaster if I were to spill coffee on my gown. Our wedding day, however, was not marred by any mishaps, and following the reception, we spent the night at the Plaza Hotel in New York City. After registering, Bill asked the desk clerk to put into the hotel safe a large sum of money we had received as gifts at the reception. We already were carrying enough cash and traveler's checks to cover expenses we would incur on our honeymoon trip to Florida and the Bahamas.
The next morning when we checked out of the hotel, the desk clerk asked us to wait a minute. "I'll be right back with the money you left in the safe," he added.
I suppose Bill and I were naive; we had intended to leave the money in the safe until we returned from our trip. But the desk clerk explained that only guests in the hotel could leave valuables in the safe.
Since it was Sunday, no banks were open so we could not deposit the money. As we pondered our problem, I began to fret about not leaving for the railroad station at the time we had originally planned and missing our train to Florida.
Bill came up with an idea. He called his nephew Ronnie, who was a production manager for CBS television in Manhattan and who worked Sundays. Bill told Ronnie of our predicament and asked him to take the money and hold it for us while we were away. "OK," Ronnie said. "I'll drive over right away and meet you in front of the Plaza." Bill and I put the gift money into a brown paper bag. Then while we were waiting for Ronnie to arrive, Bill hired a taxi to take us to the railroad station as soon as we were ready.
When we saw Ronnie's car approaching, Bill ran to it and threw the paper bag into the open window on the passenger's side. As Ronnie drove away, Bill and I dashed to the waiting taxi.
"Gads, we must have looked like drug dealers making a drop," I said as I peered out the cab window, expecting to see a police car pursuing us.
Never again did Bill and I have more money than we knew what to do with. But we had a good marriage, and you cannot buy that, even with all the money in the world.
