I always enjoyed hearing how my mom, Joy Washburn Gillis, met my dad, William Gillis, Jr.
My mom’s first encounter with my dad actually happened when she was two years old. They lived on the same street in Little River, in Miami, Florida. She would stand at the window and watch this 13-year-old boy walk to school. She seemed fascinated with him. It wasn’t till they met and started dating years later that my mom’s mom, Eunice LaSenius Washburn, connected those dots.
Many years later, my mom was in her 30s and still single. My dad was in his 40s and divorced. At the invitation of some friends, my mom joined the chancel choir as an alto at Rader Memorial United Methodist Church in Miami Shores. She went to several choir rehearsals and really enjoyed it.
One evening at choir practice, a man walked in that everyone seemed to know. Apparently he had been away for a while. As soon as he stepped inside, many of the choir members ran over to see him. He was smiling and laughing and greeting each one.
My mom asked a friend, “Who is he?”
She was told his name was Bill Gillis. She made note of how handsome he was and how much she liked his personality.
Soon enough, they started chatting and lingering a bit after rehearsals. The popular place to go after choir practice was the restaurant at Howard Johnson’s, often called HoJo, on Second Avenue in Miami Shores. One evening, he asked if she would like to ride with him to HoJo. She accepted, and that was basically their first date.
Other dates transpired, including their favorite dating location at the golf driving range. Eventually, he invited her to his company’s Christmas dinner. When she said she’d love to go, he asked if he could introduce her as his fiancée. She said yes.
On February 16, 1963, they were married at Rader Church. She was 36, and he was 47. It was a rainy but beautiful day with lots of family and friends there to enjoy the celebration.
My mom’s brother, my Uncle Hal Washburn, was supposed to walk her down the aisle. As an airline pilot for Pan Am, he was flying in from New York for the occasion. It looked like he wouldn’t make it in time. The mothers had already been escorted to their seats. My mom’s uncle, Ruehl LaSenius, stood with her in the church narthex, ready to walk with her in Hal’s place.
At the very last second, the front door swung open and in rushed Hal. Without missing a beat, he switched places with Ruehl. My mom was thrilled. And my grandmother, Eunice, was so surprised and overjoyed when she stood to watch the bride walk down the aisle and realized her son had arrived after all. What a joyous day.
They both loved to travel and spent the early years of their marriage visiting lots of places. Before too long, Joy and Bill had a baby girl. That was me. And the travels continued for all of us, a blessing for which I am grateful.
As I grew up, my mom always delighted in retelling their story to me. I’m glad to share it here for any family members who might enjoy reading it. God truly blessed their marriage. They were made for each other.
Exploring Generations 