Pure PLATINUM
How one metro Detroit couple survived 70 years of marriage
DETROIT — Sophia George, 88, and always the life of the party, was even more radiant than usual in a midnight blue gown with metallic gold and silver accents, her eyes sparkling as she hugged her guests and welcomed them in; later that night she would lead a conga line through the banquet hall.
Her husband, Tony George, who has a dry sense of humor and is usually a man of few words, was just as gracious — and handsome, too, in a new gray suit the ever practical Sophia figured was a good investment because he’ll be able to wear it again to his funeral. He’s 93, and in addition to a severe hearing impairment and vision problems from macular degeneration, he had one of those mini strokes a few weeks ago that scared Sophia half to death.
They’ve been married 70 years. Which is why they’re throwing this party . “Don’t you think we deserve a party?” Sophia said.
After all, 70 years of downs and ups, sicknesses and health, arguments and apologies, breakups and makeups — Sophia left Tony twice, three times if you count the breakup during their courtship — have to be worth something. It’s longer than anyone they know has been married. Researchers at Bowling Green State University say fewer than 1 percent of married couples stay together this long and that in the future, 70th anniversaries — platinum anniversaries — will become even more unusual; people are waiting longer to get married and won’t live long enough to reach the seven-decade milestone.
And that makes Sophia and Tony of Macomb Township one of the last of the platinum couples.
When people ask them how they got to this incredible point, how they managed to merge two strong personalities to create a life together, Sophia says it wasn’t easy, Tony says he’s Catholic and doesn’t believe in divorce, and they both say that they love each other. But that’s only part of their story. Sophia Vitale, the oldest child in an Italian-American family with four kids, was 15, going on 16, and with her cousin at a popular 1940s spot, the Arcadia roller skating rink on Woodward in Detroit, when some guy, an older guy, skated into her and knocked her down. “He did it accidentally on purpose.”
The older guy was Tony George who, at 21, had just returned home from overseas duty in the Army.
Sophia wasn’t amused by Tony’s method of introduction, but he was handsome. She allowed him to help her up and they got to talking about themselves, about their families — he was the youngest of eight from a Lebanese-American family — and spent the rest of the evening skating together. By the time she left the rink, Sophia had her first and, it would turn out, only boyfriend.
“I’ve loved you ever since I saw you,” Tony would say later.
Sophia’s mother didn’t allow her to talk to young men, let alone date, but she did allow Sophia to go to the roller rink. So that’s where Sophia went, to see Tony, her secret boyfriend.
But then, trouble. Sophia’s mother found money in Sophia’s purse — money she’d given Sophia for roller rink admission, money Sophia hadn’t used because Tony paid her way. A neighbor also reported seeing Sophia kissing Tony at night in a car parked beneath an illuminating streetlight. Her mother was livid; she yelled. Sophia cried. She continued to see Tony in secret. But things between them started getting complicated. Sophia realized Tony was seeing other girls, and she started thinking he might want more than she was willing to give without the benefit of marriage and she wasn’t going to put up with that. The young couple parted ways. A short time later, Sophia’s family moved to another neighborhood and Tony didn’t know where to find her.
Sophia who had a strong interest in makeup and beauty products took a job working the cosmetics counter at Sam’s Cut-Rate Department Store in downtown Detroit. On her way home from there on a Jefferson Avenue streetcar one afternoon, she caught a glimpse of someone she hadn’t seen in almost a year: Tony!
Tony was on her streetcar, riding to Chrysler to work the afternoon shift.
Sophia felt chills up and down her body. Her eyes opened wide. She was so surprised to see him.
Tony pushed people aside to get to Sophia, and when he reached her, he said: I want to see you again. It was like a scene out of a movie. This time, however, Sophia wanted to do things the right way; no sneaking around. Even though she dreaded asking, she knew she needed her parents’ permission to see Tony. Much to her surprise, they told her she could invite him over at 7:30 on a Saturday evening.
That night, Sophia waited. And waited — 7:30 came and went, so did 8 o’clock, and 8:30 and 9. She was a wreck, looking out the window when her parents weren’t watching; she didn’t want them to know how worried she was, how frightened she was that Tony would never show up.
When he finally arrived around 9:30 (he said he was playing cards with some guys and couldn’t leave), Sophia’s mother was furious. She announced she would not, under any circumstances, allow her daughter to date Tony.
Maybe because he was less strict, maybe because he knew his daughter needed a life of her own, maybe because he knew how much she looked up to him and didn’t want to disappoint her, Sophia’s father overruled his wife. He gave Sophia permission to go out for a cup of coffee with Tony.
A year later, they eloped at the courthouse.
“My husband said he fell in love with my legs and long hair.” Sophia says.