It started with a bet.
In the autumn of 1957, the officers’ club on Mitchell Air Force Base, Long Island, hosted live music and dancing every Tuesday. Local young women participated in the fun.
But one airman, Eddie Crabtree, complained to his bunkmate, fellow airman Richard Coupe, that one of the young ladies, 18-year-old Barbara Davis, wouldn’t go out with him.
“Well, Eddie,” Coupe said, “the problem is you, not her.”
Coupe bet Crabtree five dollars (no small sum for airmen making just seventy-eight a month) that he could get Davis to go out with him instead. There were only two problems: he’d never even seen the girl with the “tremendous body,” and he didn’t know how to dance. But at twenty-one, confident and curious, Coupe approached her at the next event and asked her out.
No, she couldn’t go out with him, Davis said, because she had a boyfriend back in Pennsylvania.
Undeterred, Coupe tried three more times. She refused every time, even the invitation to Saturday morning Mass, which should have been an easy yes for two devout Catholic kids.
Finally, his persistence paid off when Davis needed a “warm body” to attend a holiday work party her Pennsylvania boyfriend couldn’t make.
But the rest wasn't tidy history. They dated, broke up, then rekindled a year later. With Coupe now in Syracuse and Davis still on Long Island, they saw each other mostly on weekends and exchanged letters. Despite the long distance, they got engaged in July 1960.
Two months later, Davis stood at the back of the church in a pillbox hat and silk wedding dress. As all eyes turned toward her, she wondered, Gee, do I really know him?
Deciding it was too late to back out, she walked down the aisle.
Her father, a horse jockey, handed her over with a quip: “Here you go, Richard. She’s got great teeth. Now you take care of them.”
On their honeymoon to Lake George, the hotel clerk noticed Richard Coupe’s shiny new ring and inquired how long they’d been married. Not wanting to sound like a rookie, Richard Coupe straightened and bluffed: “Oh, three weeks.”
Today, Barbara and Richard Coupe have been married for sixty-five years, having spent more than fifty-five of them in Phoenix.
They raised six kids, moved states, and weathered the loss of their oldest child, but a few guiding principles carried them through the highs and lows of life.
Here’s what the Coupes say has mattered most.
Friends are an important part of a happy life, so choose them carefully
The Coupes are social butterflies, loving a full calendar of dinner parties, ballroom dancing engagements, and faith-based small group meetings. Their deep friendships have brought them great joy, encouragement in hard seasons, and a better quality of life.
But they’ve always been selective with who they let into their inner circle.
Choose friends who share your values and priorities, says Barbara Coupe. Otherwise, your friendships can bring you down. But friends with common bonds? Those last.
Keep a healthy dose of independence
The Coupes don’t feel they have to do everything together, all of the time. They are content to pursue their own interests—she might go shopping, while he goes to car shows.
There are times, however, when Richard Coupe has been sighted sitting patiently in a chair at the store, waiting for her to finish browsing. Because it’s about balancing togetherness with a sense of independence.
Respect and show each other affection with small, everyday gestures
How you treat your spouse is how they’ll treat you, says Richard Coupe. Don’t get caught up in petty word-smithing to put each other down.
He tells Barbara Coupe every day that he’s thankful for his “precious wife.”
“Believe it or not,” he says, “when you say that enough times, you really believe it.”
For her part, Barbara Coupe thanks him for his help around the house–washing dishes, sweeping, walking the dogs.
“We work as a team, whatever the task is, we split it up,” Richard Coupe says, sharing how their morning routine starts with her making breakfast while he prepares the coffee and portions of their daily pills.
They never make a show of these gestures; they are simply the rhythms of a six-decade-long relationship.
If the Coupes could offer one piece of advice to other couples, it’s this: “Respect each other, value each other…and kill them with kindness.”