A disabled war veteran, a widowed single mother and a blind date 44 years ago
Judy and Dennis Biggs met on Valentine’s Day in 1978
“I only introduced you. I didn’t say you had to marry him!” — Judy Biggs’ sister
He was a troubled Vietnam War veteran looking for a good time. She was a widowed single mother looking for a good man. They met on a blind date in February 1978. It just happened to be Valentine’s Day. Cupid surprised them. Here’s their love story.
Dennis Biggs arrived early at the old Wayfarer Inn on U.S. 30 in Merrillville to pound down a few Crown Royal Manhattans, his preferred drink in the 1970s. He needed to settle his nerves and once again soothe his anger at the world.
“By the time she got there that night, I was feeling pretty mellow,” Biggs recalled.
In 1967, the Pennsylvania native returned home from Vietnam with a chip on his shoulder and a missing right hand. While standing on a rice paddy dock waiting for military helicopters to land, Biggs noticed an enemy grenade at the base of a tree. The pin was still in, so he tried tossing it to a safer clearing.
“Everything was fine until I let it go,” he said. “If it was an American grenade, not a Viet Cong grenade, it would have blown me to pieces.”
Biggs returned home in pieces, emotionally, hoping that booze would seal his cracks.
“I was probably an alcoholic going through PTSD,” he said.
A few years later at his construction company job, Biggs got transferred from the Rust Belt of Pennsylvania to the Rust Belt of Northwest Indiana; first to the old Bethlehem Steel, then to Inland Steel, buying welding supplies to build blast furnaces. A woman on the other end of those over-the-phone purchases sounded friendly, so he asked her out.
“I’m married,” the woman replied. “But I have a sister who’s widowed. I can set you two up.”
Judy Biggs, who was raising two daughters, went out on a few dates after she lost her 40-yearold husband to a massive coronary. None of those dates panned out. “So I told my sister, ‘Sure, what the heck,’ ” she recalled.
Her sister made a point to tell her about Dennis’ war wound, his missing hand.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Judy told her. “I’m just gonna meet the guy.”
On their blind date, accompanied by mutual friends, Dennis and Judy hit it off. She felt comfortable enough to let him drive her home that night. “I always felt comfortable with Dennis,” Judy said.
A week later, Dennis called Judy for another date. She declined to host a birthday party for her daughter. He offered to help.
“I thought, either he’s crazy or he’s a nice guy,” Judy recalled. “It turned out he’s a nice guy.”
The couple met again on following weekends, turning a blind eye to where all those dates might end up.
“If she knew I was eight years younger than her, she wouldn’t have went out with me. She was a cougar before it became trendy,” Dennis joked.
“I never wanted to get married again,” Judy said. “My first husband and I were high school sweethearts. Our tombstone would say Together Forever.”
On another date a few weeks later, Dennis popped the question as they drove in his Buick Limited. Judy said yes. At a Hammond nightclub, they popped a gifted bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne. They still have that celebratory bottle. On the way home from the nightclub, they stopped at her sister’s home to share the news over a few beers in the middle of the night.
“I only introduced you,” Judy’s sister told her. “I
didn’t say you had to marry him!”
In August 1978, the couple married at Trinity Lutheran Church in Hobart, where Dennis converted from Presbyterian to Lutheran. After they wed, he moved into Judy’s home on 3.5 acres of property in Hobart, where she once lived with her first husband.
“Dick, her first husband, planted that pine tree out front,” Dennis said in the couple’s living room.
Dennis, who also was previously married, planted seeds 44 years ago on
Valentine’s Day that have blossomed wonderfully for the couple. They have four grandchildren, two great-grandchildren, and a home filled with memories together.
“I wasn’t expecting any of this. It just happened,” Dennis said.
“Happily ever after, as the story goes,” Judy said, holding their wedding photo.
He’s a military history buff who can’t watch enough of those TV shows. She’s a cook who has clipped thousands of recipes and collected dozens of cookbooks. He enjoys bowling
every Wednesday night at Plaza Lanes in Highland. She enjoys staying home and reading the Bible. Her faith — in God and in Dennis — has rescued their relationship again and again.
“If it wasn’t for this wonderful gal here, I wouldn’t be here today,” Dennis said.
He had a five-packs-aday smoking addiction, serious health problems, and emotional troubles from his younger days.
“She put up with me for quite some time,” he said.
Dennis doesn’t often
reveal his emotions, but he did during my visit. Watch a video of the couple on my Facebook page, at https:// www.facebook.com/JerDavich/.
“When we met on that blind date on Valentine’s Day, God had a plan to put us together,” he said, his voice cracking.
Judy leaned in to give him a hug, once again taking the place of all those empty Crown Royal Manhattans.
“She mellows me out,” he said, hugging her back.