Chapter Five
Bill and Helen Bowers were married on Wednesday, July 5th, 1944, in the Holy Trinity Episcopal Church on Peabody Street, in their hometown of Madisonville. It was a small ceremony in a small church; after all, there was a war going on and most of their friends were in some far-off part of the world. Just Helen, Bill, their parents and Reverend Hobson the church’s minister attended. There wasn’t even any time for any celebrations afterwards. Bill was headed to Fort Knox the next morning to begin Basic Training. They spent their wedding night — and their one-night honeymoon — at the El Rancho Rankin Motel on Beechmont Levee. It was a gaudy, Mexican-themed motel that was more famous for its “one-night stands” than anything else, and that’s what their honeymoon had turned out to be, a “one-night stand”.
Bill and Helen were high-school sweethearts at Withrow High School. He was the star football quarterback; she was a shy, introverted bookworm, and they seemed to hit it off the moment they first met. Nobody could figure out why their chemistry worked; it just did. Both parents objected to them getting married right after their high-school graduation, especially Helen’s mother, Jean. After all, Bill was going into the Army,
and there was a strong chance he might never return home to claim his new bride. There wasn’t even time to set up housekeeping. Helen would stay with her parents in their large house on Winona Terrace.
Helen’s parents, Bud and Jean Leisler, drove Bill and Helen down to Union Terminal so he could catch the train to Fort Knox. Bud certainly didn’t want to make the long round-trip to the terminal; gasoline and tires were rationed and were treasured commodities. Gasoline and rubber were needed to win the war, and they were both in short supply. Although he had loaned them his 1934 Ford for their brief honeymoon, he wasn’t too sure about how many miles the “Old Girl” still had left in her. The car was desperately in need of repair with its patched tires. Jean and Helen had to work hard to convince Bud to make the long trip downtown.
The drive to Union Terminal was quiet; a silence only interrupted by the thumping noise the badly patched right, front tire made. Bill and Helen sat quietly in the back seat, his arm around her and her hand on his knee. Not a word was spoken except for Bud’s occasional “Damn it” as he dodged traffic on Columbia Parkway. The view of the Ohio River Valley from the Parkway was stunning, but nobody was thinking about sightseeing. Everybody was worrying about Bill’s future.
Their destination — Cincinnati’s Union Terminal — is still considered one of the most impressive railroad terminals in the world. The Rotunda is the largest semi-dome in the western hemisphere measuring 180-feet wide and 106-feet high. In its heyday, Union Terminal was a bustling beehive of activity, a terminal shared by seven major railroads. Every day, thousands of passengers arrived and departed through its many gates, especially during WWII.
This was the first time Bill and Helen had ever been in Union Terminal. Walking hand-in-hand into the Rotunda, they were careful not to bump into fellow travelers as everyone around them gazed up at the panoramic murals circling the dome. The noise, the grandeur, and the confusion were so overwhelming that Helen started to cry.
“Honey, don’t worry. I’ve got a two-day pass coming up next month, and I’ll make sure I get back to see you.”
“Bill, I’m gonna miss you so much. The only time we were apart was when you visited your grandparents in Interlochen for two weeks. I couldn’t stand it then, and I don’t know how I’m gonna stand it, now.”
“Hey, I’m only gonna be right down the road. It’s not like I’m going overseas. I’m just going over the Ohio River. I promise to write you every day.”
“Bill, I know we don’t have much time to stand here and talk, but I want you to know life without you wouldn’t be worth living. Two days ago, I would have been sending my boyfriend off to the Army, but today it’s different. Now I’m sending my husband,
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