Married with Children...for 70 years

Husband and wife celebrates their long dance

By Anissa Vicente-Rivera

They danced all the way to the altar. She was 17, chafing at a culture that refused her an education. He was a grown-up 20 with a high school diploma and big dreams for the future. For Artemio and Virginia Pagadora of Rowland Heights, married 70 years ago last month, one dance at a town fiesta was all it took.

They were kababayans from the Philippine province of Quezon but in the late 1920, dating was unheard of. Virginia's strict aunt unwittingly helped the two. The more she restricted Art from visiting Virginia and dropping in for haranas, the more Virginia drew closer to him.

"Fiesta ng bayan at may sayawan, (There was a town fiesta with dancing)” she said. "Sinabi niya sa akin 'Kung gusto mo, mag-pakasal tayo,' at sinabi ko oo agad.(He said, if you wish, we can get married right away, and I said yes, right away.)”

The next day, Art's cousin helped him spirit Virginia away for an elopement.

"I was dusting the stairs with a rag when I saw his cousin out on the street," Virginia said. " I got my clothes, wrapped them in a bed sheet and threw it out my window. You know, I just left the rag on the stairs."

For propriety's sake, Art left her at his godfather's home. The next day, they were married. They feasted on leftovers from the fiesta and laughed about the sum total of their possessions: two blankets and their clothes.

Today they have so much more. Art is 90, his wife, 87. They counted their blessings at their 70th wedding anniversary: eight children, 25 grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren, a happy retirement volunteering for Lanterman Medical Center in Pomona and each other.

More than 200 guests and family cheered as Art and Virginia renewed their vows before Monsignor Michael Killeen at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Church in Rowland Heights Aug. 21. They watched the two dance at a reception at the Embassy Suites in Brea. Their children, grand-children and great-grandchildren danced too.

"When it's the two of them, they enjoy things even more but as a family, we're together all the time," daughter Rosie Jamelano said.

It was a hard-won unity.

Art started his married life as a poultry farmer before making his living as a tailor and violinist. Virginia had nine children in quick succession (one died in infancy) but in between learned her craft as a beautician. She was also determined that her children get an education.

Virginia acutely remembers the pain of being refused one herself. Her elders told her she didn't need schooling because she was just going to stay home and have children. She promised her children better.

"Naisip ko 'Naku! May mga anak na ako! (I said to myself, but I have children!)'" Virginia said. “Kailangan mapag-aaral ko kaya dinasal ko talaga, kahit na 25 centavos lang and maitatabi ko, awa ng Diyos, itatabi ko para sa kanila. (I needed to get an education so I prayed, even if I could just set aside 25 centavos with God’s help, for them, I would do that)"

She raised pigs for sale and pawned jewelry to pay for the children's schooling.

By the time World War II erupted, Art and Virginia had four children with another on the way. Art had left his family for the big city to become a telegraph operator. He had just started work when the Japanese bombed the city.

"I didn't think I'd find my family again,' he said.

His boss gave him back pay and Art trekked home, dodging cannon fire and enemy soldiers all the way. He found his wife and children huddled in a field.

For days, Virginia slept sitting up with her four children lined up along her legs. Art made them a makeshift hut made of cogon grass with a bamboo floor. They stayed there until they thought it was safe to venture back to town.

After the war, Art went back to his businesses. The family moved to Manila with little more than a sewing machine, Art's guitar and his violin. Their first home had a tin roof that leaked. But they persevered, renting four stalls in the marketplace where they sold food and buying and selling passenger jeepneys. They also ran a cafeteria inside the halls of Congress and for a big corporation.

When the older children could, they worked and helped their younger siblings through school. All of Art and Virginia's kids are college graduates: Josie, Violet, Amy, Rosie, Ted, Flora, Lily and Evelyn. They are pharmacists, teachers, health care workers and businesswomen. They have also added new families to the clan: the Oroscos, Reyeses, Paduas, Jamelanos, Lims, Riveras and Parales.

The family came to America in the '70s. Most of them still live close to their parents in Rowland Heights.

"I saw their hardships, sending eight kids to school with no fixed income," Jamelano said. "I feel that is a gift from God. He gave that grace to them."

Everyone calls them Tatay and Nanay, Tagalog for father and mother, from their grandchildren to the people at church. They talk of their hardships, the death of their firstborn as an infant and of one of their daughters two years ago, of Virginia's bout with pneumonia and Art's recently diagnosed heart murmur.

Virginia said she doesn't think there's a secret to a long-lasting marriage.

"We argue but we don't let it drag," she said. "Hindi kami nagtatanim (ng galit) (We don’t hold grudges against each other). And I don't think we would have lasted this long if we didn't get along."

Art said she's still the beautiful 17-year-old he whisked away 70 years ago.

"Maganda siya at maganda ang ugali. (She’s beautiful and she has a beautiful personality)," he said. "I tell my friends I didn't let her go from the beginning because where else can I find a beauty like her?"

They like to compete in local ballroom dance contests. At family parties, they are content to sit and let their grandchildren and great-grandchildren come to them, giving each a blessing. At home, Virginia cooks typical Filipino food and pastries like pancit and adobo from scratch. Art brushes aside her worries when he lifts heavy things. She frets a little when he forgets to get her something for her birthday.

"Remember when you were courting me you brought me bolts of cloth (to make into dresses)?" she teased him.

"Oy, maganda talaga yung mga tela'ng yun (That piece of cloth is really nice)," he said, dodging the jab.

This year was their happiest anniversary yet, Virginia said, because their great-grandchildren showed off the family prowess in dance. But also because they're still here, she and Art.

"Sa sikap ng sampung daliri naming mag-asawa, heto na kami (We’re here through sheer hard work), " Virginia said. " Masaya kaming dalawa. (We’re happy)"