Couple dance through 61 years

When most folks hear the word “tomato,” they think of something red and juicy to complete a BLT.

When Phyllis Samis hears it, she thinks of the first time she met her husband-to-be, Clint.

It was 1946. Phyllis had just returned to Spokane from Seattle, where she had worked at the Boeing plant during World War II.

She’d gone with her aunt and uncle to a dance at the Spring Hill Grange. As two handsome young men crossed the dance floor toward her, she said to her aunt, “Look! There are two of them. I want the taller one.”

Clint Samis, who recently had been discharged from the Army, had his own reaction to the dimpled beauty across the room.

“Would you look at that tomata?” he said to his brother. He made sure he said it loud enough so Phyllis could hear him.

He asked her to dance, and the two danced together the rest of the evening.

Then Clint asked if he could escort her home. But Phyllis declined, saying, “I’ve been taught to go home with who brought me.”

As Clint and Phyllis recalled that first meeting from their South Hill home recently, Clint shook his head.

“She turned me down,” he said.

Phyllis left with her aunt and uncle, but not before she and Clint had made plans to meet at the next dance two weeks later.

They began dating, and both say they knew right away they were going to get married. But they dated for six months so they wouldn’t upset their families with a hasty marriage.

“He told me he loved me on the second date,” Phyllis said with a smile.

Clint said Phyllis proposed to him, but his wife begs to differ.

“He said, ‘If I asked you to marry me, would you?’ ” she recalled. “So, I said, ‘Yes!’ “

The couple had some car trouble with their ‘36 Ford while returning from their honeymoon. And that led them to discover a key ingredient in a long and happy marriage.

“It was the end of the war. You couldn’t get a new tire,” Phyllis said. So, while stranded, they began to laugh.

“You’ve got to laugh at the things you have no control over,” she said. “That’s pretty much the way our lives have been.”

“That’s right,” Clint interjected with a grin. “Just one big joke.”

The couple celebrated their 61st anniversary on Sept. 7.

They raised three children in an old farmhouse on Moran Prairie.

Clint worked in the furnace and sheet-metal industry.

“I retired in 1981,” he said. Pausing with the timing of a natural comedian, he added, “And I’m still tired.”

When the 7 1/2 acres got to be too much, the Samises moved into town.

“We’d lived there almost 50 years,” Phyllis said with a sigh.

Throughout their marriage, Clint and Phyllis continued to dance every chance they got.

“We did our thing,” Phyllis said of their favorite pastime. “We just danced to the music.”

Clint’s health is failing now. Emphysema has robbed him of a lot of his energy.

But he still shows the spark of humor that punctuated six decades of marriage.

Daughter Bette Munroe, who helps care for her parents, said, “The story of the Samis family is in the glint in my dad’s eyes.”

When asked what makes Phyllis such a good wife, Clint gave the question due thought and quipped, “Well, she’s a woman.”

And when asked how he has stayed married for 61 years, he replied, “It’s because I sleep all the time.”

His wife laughed and said, “I feel very fortunate.”

She said she believes the true secret to a lasting relationship is simply “being happy with what you’ve got.”

Marriage is like a dance. As the years go by, the fox trots and tangos wind down to a long, slow waltz.

For Clint and Phyllis Samis’ children, it’s those memories they treasure.

“I wish you could see them dance,” daughter Bette said. “They make such beautiful music together.”