A LIFETIME OF LOVE: After 62 years of marriage and Alzheimer's disease, she's still his sweetheart
By TUCKER LYON, T&D Government Writer Sunday, February 13, 2005There are no red hearts or bouquets of roses in this Valentine's love story. No boxes of chocolates, no romantic rhymes, no pricey jewelry. There's just a lifetime of happy moments shared by Gilbert and Eleanor Hoffman, two "old sweethearts," entering into their 63rd year of marriage. But the memories now are only his. Seven and half years ago, the couple left their Carolina Avenue home and moved together to Longwood Plantation, a local retirement community. Hoffman, a retired elementary school principal, is still independent. An Orangeburg County Election Commissioner since 1992, he's also an active member of First Baptist Church. His wife, however, is in the later stages of Alzheimer's disease at Magnolia Place, an adjacent facility.
"Now, she's in a nursing home. ... So, when she went to the nursing home, I did, too. ... But you know what she looks forward to every day my visit four times a day, sometimes five. She puckers up, ready for a kiss," he said. "She's top notch, and she's just as satisfied as she can be."
At 83, Hoffman, who could live independently anywhere, is also quite satisfied with the move.
"It's a good set up. I had no reservations," he said. "N.O., no, I wouldn't leave that woman for anything in the world."
And, if their roles were reversed, Hoffman says, he knows his wife would be doing the very same for him.
"We were both good people for each other. We were meant for each other," he said. "We never had any arguments or fusses. That's unusual. Most of it is because she was a better person than I was."
The Hoffmans "met cute" back in 1941.
She was a student nurse at the old Tri-County Hospital in Orangeburg, and he was a senior at The Citadel, suddenly stricken with appendicitis during a visit home.
"She was in her second year of nursing," he recalled, noting the two had actually been briefly introduced a year or so earlier. "I had an appendectomy when I was at The Citadel, and she's been taking care of me ever since. ... She snowed me in a minute. We hit if off in good shape."
Now, Hoffman is the caretaker.
"She fell and messed her leg up and can't walk. The nurses said, 'Why don't you work her legs for her?' So, I do therapy for her. I put cream all over her legs from top to bottom. She loves for me to take care of her, and I do. What else is more important than that? We've got a wonderful situation. She's got me, and I've got her. That's the reason I'm living."
And, vice versa.
"She doesn't remember anything or anybody but me. That keeps her alive," Hoffman said. "She's healthy as a horse. She's got the most beautiful legs of any woman I've ever seen in my life and she's 84. They're smooth as silk. She doesn't talk, but I'll say, 'Do you love Gilbert?' and she'll say, 'Uh huh.' I'll say, 'See you at breakfast in the morning,' and I'll kiss her good-bye.
"I feed her breakfast. She can feed herself, but she likes me to feed her. We've got her spoiled. When I'm not there, the nurses feed her. They appreciate her, too. She's so good."
The former Eleanor Baggott was from Windsor, a tiny community in Aiken County. After graduating from high school, she waited a year to enter nursing school in Orangeburg with her younger sister, Ethel.
"She was a crackerjack nurse," bragged Hoffman. "When she was a student nurse, Dr. (P.J.) Boatwright had an emergency appendectomy to do on some fellow, and she was at the nurses' home, off duty. He called and asked for help, and she went. He said, 'We don't have anybody else to help us.' Dr. Boatwright operated, and when he finished he said, 'Sew him up,' and she did. ... That's the kind of unselfish person she was. She didn't say she was off duty or tired."
Valentine's Day will go unmarked again this year for the couple.
"We don't do holidays. It wouldn't do any good," Hoffman said. "But, what she loves is what I give her every day ice cream. She's always liked ice cream. I try to do things like that. She's always ready for the ice cream. She's a precious thing; she has never complained."
Sidelined recently with a bad cold, Hoffman says he missed visiting his wife for several days.
"Oh, yeah, she missed me up to a point. But, it's good not to miss me too much. I don't see her cry. She hasn't cried in I don't know when," he said. "We've had a wonderful marriage; a dream. I love that girl."
The Hoffmans have been married 62 years.
"That's a long time to stay with one fellow," he said. "But, she's a fine girl."
After Hoffman graduated from The Citadel in May 1942, the couple first decided to wait until the war ended to get married.
"Then, we thought the war may last forever. So, we got married on August 17. My daddy was crazy about that girl, and, my mama, too," he said. "We were in a hurry to get married. It was spur of the moment. ... We knew what we wanted."
The wedding plans were so spur of the moment, Hoffman recalls, that neither of their ministers was available to perform the ceremony so it was held at the local Lutheran Church, the only one available.
Upon graduation in May, Hoffman's entire class of 1942 entered World War II. And by December, he says, half were lost.
"I went overseas to St. Nazaire in France. I was in the 51st Division," he said. "There were three regiments in a division. We were going to Bastogne, and one ship got stuck. So, they sent us to St. Nazaire, and the ship that took our place got wiped out."
While Hoffman was overseas, his young wife continued her nursing career at the local hospital.
"She could do more things with more people. She was a natural born nurse," he said. "She is a precious sweet woman; that's all there is to it. There's a difference between bragging and stating the facts."
A native of Orangeburg, Hoffman says he had always known that education was his true calling.
Returning to South Carolina after the war, Hoffman rejected his father's lucrative offer of half partnership in the family liquor store business. Instead, he went to Carlisle Military School in Bamberg as an instructor.
"They gave us a place to stay for four years, and she was a nurse there for the last three years," said Hoffman, who later received a master's degree from the University of North Carolina.
After a short stint in Greenwood, the Hoffmans settled for 14 years in Walterboro, where he served as an elementary school principal and she continued her nursing career. Then the couple returned to Orangeburg, when Hoffman became principal of his old Ellis Avenue school. Later he served at Sheridan and Marshall elementary schools.
"I've had a wonderful life, a full life. Everything has been toward helping everyone else," he said. "In Walterboro, I had 1,054 kids and 29 teachers, and by Christmas I knew every child and parent by name. I'm not a ladies' man, but I hugged every one of those mothers, and I knew every child by name. ... You can tell what kind of life I lived. I never quit."
At the same time, Eleanor Hoffman took a job as a school nurse in Orangeburg County.
"Miss Ellen Chaplin gave her a job and didn't even see her," he said. "A school nurse didn't make much money. She worked with those girls. She'd ask them who they were making out with, and she'd get them on the pill. Some people thought that was terrible, but the alternative is a lot worse."
It was in Walterboro that the Hoffmans' only child, daughter Trudy, grew up. A teacher in Jackson, Miss., Trudy Draughn has been confined to a nursing home since suffering a brain aneurysm nine years ago. The Hoffmans' grandson, Jim, lives in Atlanta with his Russian-born wife and baby daughter while their granddaughter, also named Eleanor, works in Virginia.
For Hoffman, Eleanor is still the beautiful girl he married so long ago.
"She never sunbathed. That's why her skin is so beautiful. And, we get along so well together. I'm not trying to glorify it, but I couldn't be mean to someone so sweet. ... I don't dread going to see her at all," he said.
"We've made an awful situation into a beautiful situation. ... We've had a wonderful life, with all the downfalls. We're still happy. ... We've had a good life and we have a good life now. She's my sweetheart. I still love her, and I feel very fortunate."
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