Saturday 26 February 2011

A Love Story in Florida

A couple in Dania Beach Florida celebrates 70 (yes, seventy) years of wedded bliss this coming August 17th. Magazzu & Leto have been a couple since 1939. When they first met, the New York World's Fair was in full swing, Hitler had just invaded Poland, and gasoline was 17 cents a gallon.

"We're not going to have a party," said Magazzu, 97, insisting they're too old for such things. "Oh yes we are," responded Leto, 96, who noted the two can still polka. "This is a big one."

A big one indeed, particularly since the two have kept a secret between them for nearly all those seventy years. When they met, in New York, Magazzu was a former Army medic and teacher, and Leto was a telegraph operator. It was one of those love at first sight kinds of things. Before they knew it they were madly in love, and sharing a flat in Manhattan where they lived together for almost fifty years. There were the usual ups and downs, of course--career disappointments, health issues, an adoption--not a child, but a pet monkey named Chi Chi. Life in New York City has many advantages, not least of which is the ability to live anonymously in one of the most congested places on earth. Magazzu and Leto were able to come and go unquestioned, and virtually unknown by neighbors and colleagues.

We never know what goes on in the lives of people around us. Few of us even know our next door neighbors: their names, occupations, kids' names, spouses etc. But the unknowns can turn us around, and astonish us, too. They can make us realize that most of the time we don't even know ourselves all that well. Greek philosopher Hermes' said in Kybalion that "all truths are but half truths--all paradoxes may be reconciled". In other words, what I say is always different from the way you hear me say it. And some members of our society, those living with fearful secrets, hear what we say--when our racial, ethnic, or other deprecations, comments about Jews, blacks, gays, lesbians find their way into our conversation and we don't know the hurt they can cause. We propel ourselves through life never understanding the simple realities that stand directly in front of us, the half-truths that are realities for other people.

Magazzu and Leto lived this reality every day for nearly seven decades. Hiding their secret, changing the subject, avoiding situations that could expose them to real danger. The world was an unforgiving place in 1939; it's not much more accepting now. Their friends and acquaintances in the tight-knit little community took care of each other, tended to one another, even developed a certain language that only they knew and understood, a jargon to keep themselves safe. This society of outcasts built a rapport with those two lovers, forming a community that evolved with more cohesion and acceptance than any found in the safe, mainstream society.

Magazzu and Leto endured, their true love affair a testament to others like theirs. And they watched their compatriots endure the same harassment, judgment and criticism, only because they'd fallen in love with each other all those years ago, and, though it was forbidden, their love, like any between two human beings, was not to be denied.

This segment of our society still stands in the shadows, fearful, cautious, watching what they say, what they do, ever afraid to exhibit their feelings in public in this the land of the free. They work alongside us, pay their bills, pay their taxes, educate their kids, worship in the pew across the aisle from us each Sunday, or Saturday at Shul, or even at the Mizzen call. They're our teachers, police, clerks, lawyers, doctors, mail carriers, firefighters, sports heroes, TV personalities, even the fellow who plays the lady killer in all those big screen romantic epics.

Call them first class taxpayers, and second class citizens. These people are only now finding their true voice, their cause just beginning to make headlines and cause minds and hearts to either open, or turn away in harsh dismissal. But they will not be denied, because what they're asking for is not an outrageous personal right or benefit, nor is it some kind of separate distinction and consideration, no reparations for past wrongs, regardless of how egregious those harms may have been. No, they're asking only for what the rest of us take for granted each and every day. To enjoy the stated rights every citizen has in these United States of America.

Caroline Leto and Venera Magazzu are old now. They've lived together as a couple, in love, for seven decades. They're not freaks, or bizarre old people, nor are they diseased in some way. Nor are they sinners. If their love is a sin, we need more transgression like theirs. No, Caroline and Venera are just two old lesbian women who happened to fall in love in 1939, and, unlike a lot of their heterosexual friends and family members, they stuck it out. We should say good for them. Here's a suggestion, Florida, are you ready? I say the state issues them a marriage license. Do it today.




Byron H. Edgington is a writer and creator of the marriage resource website http://www.caffection.com Caffection is where marriage and its manifold benefits are spoken. Visit Caffection.com for an assets planning guide, heartwarming movies, a daily journal, quotes, an e-newsletter and more, all free to download.

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