Classmates wed today — 59 years later

The story starts with a class of one

By Dan Linehan

MANKATO — This is one way to tell this story: Septuagenarians Russell Lindsay and Marilyn “Skip” Nielsen are getting married today because Russell didn’t have any second-grade classmates 69 years ago.

The chain reaction that led to their wedding today was, from this view, set into motion by the teacher of Russell’s one-room schoolhouse in the fall of 1940.

He was the only second grader in the rural Nicollet County school in the now-vanished town of Kerns. So his teacher mixed him in with a pair of third graders over Christmas break to ease her burden.

That put a young Russell in the same grade as a young Marilyn, who was attending school about six miles away in North Mankato. Her father had nicknamed her “Skip” — she can’t remember why — and it stuck.

Russell’s promotion put him in Skip’s grade, but didn’t put them much closer than that until they enrolled in junior high together. They met in ninth grade but didn’t get to know each other until their junior year.

The junior class play was “Home Sweet Homicide,” about a trio of children trying to solve a murder and set up their widowed mother with a police lieutenant investigating it.

Russell, who said he played an injured witness, remembers Marilyn in the play. (She says she doesn’t remember the play).

They never dated in high school, but they both remember performing together at their graduation ceremony in 1950. He sang the Lord’s prayer. She played the piano.

Next year, he sang at Marilyn’s wedding to Roger Nielsen. This time, he’s the one who doesn’t remember.

A few years later, Russell got married and became a United Methodist Minister in Hendersonville, Tenn. She eventually moved to Arizona, where she split her time between Mesa and Show Low, a cooler city that sits on a plateau more than 6,000 feet above sea level.

They would not have any contact for more than 50 years.

In October of 2004, organizers of a reunion for the class of 1950 sent an e-mail to advertise the 55-year reunion.

Russell Lindsay, who was at this time living with his wife in Tennessee, hit the “reply all” button and said he couldn’t come because of a conflict with a family reunion. He also included the lyrics to “By the Bend of the River,” the only song he knows that’s about the Mankato area.

Marilyn, whose husband had died in 2002, got Russell’s e-mail and remembered the song. They developed an online friendship.

He asked his family to reschedule their reunion for the same weekend as the class reunion, and they did.

“So he finagled,” Marilyn said.

He finagled some more with the Belgrade Avenue United Methodist Church to preach and sing that weekend. He also asked Skip to reprise their 1950 performance at graduation.

“I was a married man at the time but she meant a lot to me,” he said.

So they sang and played together, again, then went their separate ways, again.

This time, though, they kept up a correspondence in the form of a daily prayer e-mail sent by Russell.

In January of this year, his wife of 52 years died.

It wasn’t more than a few weeks later that Russell wanted to see Skip.

On the morning of May 29, he showed up at her door in Show Low.

“She said, ‘Are you in the driveway?’ I said, ‘Yes.’”

He owned a few timeshares in the area and slept there while he courted Skip.

They’re both into hiking and took lots of walks in the trails around Show Low. They would hold hands and he would sing to her.

When it finally began, the courtship was not without its bumps.

Skip had grown accustomed to single life and filled her days with social engagements.

“She was very fulfilled. She just didn’t need me,” Russell said.

He eventually persuaded her to join him for a family reunion in Minnesota in June. There, he asked her to marry him.

“She said ‘no way.’ Those were her exact words,” he said.

That seemed like a definitive answer.

“I had made it clear what my intentions were. I had made it clear I was not interested,” she said.

But he didn’t give up.

He sent cards every day, called every day, sent e-mails every day. On June 25, he sent two dozen roses.

“He was persistent,” she said.

By this time, Skip had lived alone for about seven years. But she began to feel that way after Russell left.

For the first time in a long time, she said “that I was really missing something.”

Sometime in August, she changed her mind and agreed to get married.

He visited her in Arizona again. This time he didn’t stay in the timeshare.

“She had a pull-out sofa,” Russell said.

They’re back in Mankato for the wedding, scheduled for today, at Bethlehem Lutheran Church in Mankato. Afterward, they plan to reside in Arizona, where Russell is already a legal resident.

And all because little Russell was the only boy in second grade. If he hadn’t been bumped to third grade, they wouldn’t have shared a junior play. They wouldn’t have performed together at graduation. He wouldn’t have gotten that class reunion e-mail in 2004 for the class reunion and she wouldn’t have seen his reply.

That was only one way to explain their unlikely reunion. And if this explanation seems a little too cute and contrived, you can feel justified to ask whether that school teacher had anything to do with it.

The couple clearly shares a connection that has nothing to do with the fact that they share a grade. He frequently rubs her arm while he talks and smooths her hair as they wait to have their photo taken.

“We’re just sentimental old people,” he said.

It speaks to the question of whether our future is shaped by larger forces — love, in this case — or happenstance, personified here by an anonymous teacher.

Russell himself says he doubts they would have met if they hadn’t been in the same grade. But he’s willing to speculate.

“I was singing at a lot of occasions,” he said. “She still might have asked me to sing at her wedding. ... Anything is possible.”