How a love story blossomed overseas in the midst of war.

by Hayley McGee

Placing another piece of freshly chopped wood in an old wood cook stove, the fire rages, burning brighter and hot to the touch. Sitting in a worn, brown, leather chair sits a wise woman named Betty.

As a current resident of Oak Harbor, Washington, Betty Leitch has spent 59 of her 89 years on the island. While she has many stories of her life adventures, one stays in the forefront of her mind: The story of how she and her late husband, Bill Leitch, first met.

It’s 1949 in Yakima, Washington. All the young singles are out on the town, down at the Yakima Valley roller rink. Girls are wearing their poodle skirts with a nice blouse while the boys are wearing button down shirts with ironed pants.

“It was my friend’s birthday, so we all went down to the roller rink to celebrate,” Betty said.

Betty put on her roller skates and rolled around the rink with her girlfriends, having a grand time when she was stopped in her tracks. A tall, handsome boy with brown hair skated by. Betty stopped because he was such a nice-looking guy.

“I asked my friend who the handsome guy was and she told me his name was Bill,” Betty said. “The only thing was that at the time, he was going out with a girl named Ruby.”

When Bill came up to introduce himself to young Betty, he introduced himself as ‘Jimmy.’

That night at the roller rink, nothing happened except an exchange of glances throughout the night. Betty didn’t think much of it after that, though she still thought he was cute. Bill reached out a couple weeks later, wanting to get to know Betty and possibly go out with her.

Bill joined the Navy in 1948, just one year before meeting Betty. He left for Korea in 1950.

“We talked for not even a few weeks before he was sent off to Korea to fight in the Korean War,” Betty reminisced.

When most people think of a military man, they think of someone being in the middle of the action, at the forefront. One might think these soldiers would be dirty, crawling on the ground and shooting their guns at the enemy, but not Bill. He was a war photographer.

“He wasn’t the one holding the gun, he was the one holding a camera,” she said. “His legs would dangle from the side of the plane, taking photos.”

Bill knew there was the possibility of not returning home, as did Betty. Bill was adamant that Betty was to still see other people while he was away, though she knew deep down all she wanted was him.

While the Korean War lasted only three years, from June 1950 until July 1953, it was one of the most brutal wars the world had ever seen. There were 6.8 million Americans that served. Of the nearly 5 million that perished in action, 40,000 were American soldiers and nearly 100,000 Americans were wounded.

During this time, the Korean War boosted GDP growth through government spending. Taxes were raised to help finance the war. While there was an increase in prices at the beginning of the war, price and wage controls were put into place to help stabilize prices by the end of the war. The cost of the war was around $30 billion in 1953, which is equivalent to about $315 billion today.

“I went with a few guys while he was away, but Bill was always in the back of my mind,” she said. “I wanted him and only him, no one else.”

While away in Korea, Bill would eat in the dining hall with all of his mates, similar to that of a college dining hall. Every single day he would hear of deaths, sometimes of people he didn’t know and other times of people he knew closely.

“He told me that, one day, he went out to the water and saw his mother and myself walking across the water,” she said. “That’s when he knew he had to do everything he could to come home safely and that he wanted to be with me.”

When he came home, he immediately proposed. There was no prior dating experience between them besides letters sent back and forth for two years and nine months. Letters were the only form of communication they had for that time.

“‘Will you be the mother of my children?’ was how he asked me to marry him,” Betty said.

On April 11, 1953, at 9 a.m, the wedding bells rang for Bill and Betty.

Bill wore a classic, black suit while Betty wore a white gown with a long train. They were married in front of both of their families in Yakima.

“I remember getting in the car with [Bill] after the wedding and we drove past Jimmy Calhoun,” she said. “I had to duck down in the car so he wouldn’t see me since I technically never broke up with him before getting married.”

Bill relied heavily on his faith. He was a devout Catholic, and had been since he was a child. Betty, on the other hand, believed in a God, but was not Catholic.

When Bill told his mother he wanted to propose to and marry Betty, she asked, “Will she join the church when you two get married?”

“Bill said to his mother, ‘that’s up to her,’” Betty said.

Betty did end up joining the Catholic church, and continues to practice her faith to this day.

As the years went on, Betty and Bill lived a quiet life on Whidbey Island, raising their children and living on their “HaHa Farm.” Bill would hardly ever talk about his time in the military, he mainly kept that for himself. Some stories weren’t meant to be shared.

“Even when the children were young, he never talked about it with them, or even me,” Betty said.

Bill passed away in 2015 with Betty right by his side. They were married for 62 years, and there was never a more unbreakable love than theirs. Many were, and are still, inspired by their marriage and the love they had for each other.

All because Betty met Bill.