“I had just turned eighteen. I walked into my daddy’s restaurant on Main Street in Greenville, South Carolina, and a young man was talking to him. Long Army coat, flat hair. He had already been to World War II. Daddy introduced me to him. We said a few words, but I don’t really remember. That was Friday. On Sunday, the young man came to church, and Mama invited him to the house for dinner. She usually did that for the Greek boys in the service.

Mama didn’t like for me to go down to the restaurant because there were too many soldiers. But that next Friday, she called and told me to stay at the register. When Mama walked into the restaurant, George walked in right behind her. I asked Mama if Nicky and I could go to the movies. Nicky was my sister. Before Mama could answer, George said, ‘I’d like to take you.’ Mama didn’t say a word.

We went to the movies. George was there again for Sunday dinner, and we went bowling with my brother. He told me, “Tomorrow we’re going to the movies by ourselves.” I said to myself, good luck. But we had three or four dates. I liked him. I can’t say I loved him—how could I, it was so quick—but I liked him.

Soon, he went to my parents at the restaurant and asked for my hand. I didn’t know he did that. The next morning I went downstairs. Mama was in the kitchen flipping around, crying. Daddy said, ‘That young man that came back from Africa wants to marry you.’  I felt like the top of the house fell on my head. I said I wasn’t going to get married. Daddy said, ‘Honey, we’re not pushing you. We just want you to know what’s happened. Go ahead and go to school.’

I had just started business school, but I didn’t want to go. Daddy told me George was coming by the house. I got my little three-year-old cousin from down the street and brought her home with me. That makes me laugh now. George came in, and we sat down. He told me a little bit about his life. He was from Greece and came to the United States when he was nine. His papa shined shoes and cleaned hats. George wanted to go to school, so he started selling newspapers. He bought a bicycle and rode from Oklahoma to Iowa to live with his uncle. He graduated from high school with honors. He wanted to go to college, but there was no money and nobody to help him. So he joined the Air Force.

George asked me to marry him. I looked at him and told him the two things I won’t stand for. ‘If you ever walk in the house drunk, that’s a divorce.’ He said, ‘You’ll never see me drunk.’ I also said I didn’t want a restaurant. He said, ‘I’m not promising about the restaurant.’ I didn’t know that morning that I was going to get engaged, but by that night, we were getting ready for a wedding.

We had a three-month engagement. George was a gentleman all the way through and even bought my wedding dress. As Daddy marched me down the aisle on our wedding day, I looked at George and wondered if we’d make it fifty years. We did. We were married for fifty-six years. 

I got pregnant right after we married. We moved to Miami without any money and could only afford a bad apartment, but we cleaned it up. George worked three jobs to get us out of there. He packed potatoes at the wholesale market. Came home, dressed, and went out selling meat for a company. He slept a couple of hours, then worked nights at the airport restaurant. I also worked nights at a restaurant. I had two kids by then, and the neighbors kept an eye on them. George took me to work and picked me up. Every penny I made went into a jar. We made it work, saved a thousand dollars, and bought a house through the GI loan. I never felt like we were poor with George. We knew we were working towards better. 

Everybody was working hard. The war was over, and we were all trying to get on our feet.

We moved to Mobile because George’s uncle had a restaurant here. Mobile was very active then. George went into business with his uncle, then he partnered with the Gulases at The Sea Ranch and The Silver King restaurants on the Causeway. Seventeen years later, we opened Roussos Restaurant on the Causeway. I worked with George the whole time and loved it. He was an easy man to work with. My whole family worked there. I would catch the bus downtown. It stopped at the tunnel. George picked me up there and took me to the restaurant. We rode home together after the restaurant at night and had a little time alone.  

We had just added on to the restaurant when Hurricane Frederick wiped us out in 1979. George’s brother in Miami called and said the restaurant was gone. I didn’t believe him until we drove up the interstate and saw it. The story destroyed everything. People stopped their cars and said, ‘Mr. George, don’t worry, you’ll rebuild.” George wanted to rebuild on the Causeway, but by then, the boys were helping run the restaurant by then and wanted to move it to town. We moved to Fort Conde. The business still did well. George loved his business, and I loved it, too.

We raised our three kids in those restaurants. We spoke Greek in the house so the children would learn it. It still passes down along with the food. My grandson took my recipe book and made copies for all of the grandchildren.

George has been gone for twenty-five years, and I still miss him. My son’s wife made this sign hanging on my wall. ‘Our family is a circle of strength and love with every birth and every union. The circle grows. Every joy shared adds more love. Every crisis faced together makes the circle stronger.’

I’m still going at 100 years old. It’s hard to believe I’ve lived to see this.” 

Zenia

Bonus Story

“We went to the village of Kyparissia in the Arcadia area of the Peloponnese in 1970. Little old ladies came out hugging George and thanking him. George’s mother died when he was four years old, and these ladies helped care for him. I didn’t know it at first, but George sent money to them every Christmas. The women told my brother-in-law that George was the only one who remembered them. That was George—quiet, humble, and just doing good.”