There would be no surprise party for Ruth and Ralph Dodge's 70th wedding anniversary. The pair – better known to just about everyone as Bunny and Cap – was well aware of the celebration. Even at 93, it's difficult to slip any opportunity to organize an event by Bunny.
“I planned it,” Bunny, who taught for nearly three decades before her retirement, admitted. “No matter where I was or what I was teaching, I always had to be organizing kids on stage. I was in seventh heaven planning this party.”
Seventh heaven and the beginning of her eighth decade with Cap were ushered in at Havenwood-Heritage Heights on June 24, when more than 140 family members and friends flooded the Havenwood Great Room for a party featuring heartfelt toasts, a variety of music and guests spanning in age from less than 10 to 97 years old.
Four days later, the couple officially celebrated the anniversary of their marriage, which took place as a double wedding with Bunny's sister, Helen, and her husband, Leonard Haubrich, Jr., on June 28, 1942.
“Seventy years is a long while to be together,” Cap said.
Time flies when you're having fun, though. The couple bonded over sports and spent most of their lives competing in something, be it golf or skiing – the two most common activities they shared – or even gymnastics, a sport Bunny helped usher into the Claremont school system long before it was popular in most parts of the country.
They spent 17 years splitting time between New Hampshire and Florida, doing most of the golfing during the southern sojourns, and didn't stop skiing until they were 76 years old.
“We met through sports,” Bunny said. “We did everything together, all those sports. I don't know how we had time for all that stuff.”
The memories of the early days are never far from reach. Bunny fondly recalled the time she stood atop a hill to watch Cap play in a baseball game while he was at Kimball Union Academy. She tried to stay out of view for fear of interrupting his rhythm, but he spotted her, and though he batted .500 that season, he struck out in that at-bat. (She also earned her nickname through baseball, having been the first girl to successfully bunt for a hit in junior high, which led to the moniker “Bunt,” which evolved to “Bunty” and, eventually, “Bunny.”)
She can also recall a harrowing 28-day stretch where she didn't hear from Cap after he was caught in a typhoon while in the Navy, though word eventually reached home that he was safe and sound.
Cap – who earned his nickname from his father, a serviceman who referred to him as captain – was always working outside, Bunny said, and never felt the need to work from plans. He built their home in Claremont, a seven-room abode, without the benefit of a blueprint or help from another soul.
“He was a man who always had to work, do everything outside,” Bunny said. “He built our house all by himself, with no help whatsoever.”
They spent more time in Claremont than anywhere else, but also wintered in Florida and eventually spent a few years in York Beach, Maine, before health concerns for Cap prompted the move to Havenwood almost three years ago.
But it's there that they've made a new home, one they welcomed dozens of guests into for the recent celebration. The attendees included a handful of people Bunny taught decades ago, and the couple's only son, David, delivered a toast to kick things off, breaking their time together down into days (25,550), hours (613,200) and minutes (36,792,000).
“You can do a lot of stuff in that amount of time,” David said. “And, as you all know, they have. And together. These days their pics are popping up on Facebook! So what's the secret to 70 years? They love each other. But they also love life.”
That was obvious throughout the party, which included Bunny playing a song her mother wrote in 1931 on the piano while accompanied by various instruments and singers. Other family members sang songs, as well, including Bunny and Cap's favorite, “Blueberry Hill.”
A lot of time has passed since they first listened to that tune together, but little has changed in terms of their commitment to each other. They may not be hitting the slopes or teeing them up anymore, but they're never far apart.
“We've had a good life,” Bunny said. “I'll take care of him, he'll take care of me, just as long as we can.”
