Part of 1 of 2
By Eleanor Rogers Gittens, PhD CU-1941
With prelude by Sylvester Robinson and Angela Gittens
The following nonfiction story chronicles the lives of Mr. & Mrs. Lyle Gittens, both of whom have lived to be over 100 years old (centenarians) and are on the precipice of celebrating 80 years of holy matrimony on June 4, 2022. The fascination derives from a profoundly important historical perspective intertwined with an amazing love story that has stood the test of time. The couple currently resides with their daughter Angela Gittens, who along with her cousin Johnyta Roundtree, contacted me about writing a story regarding this amazing couple. After reading the bio, I firmly believe that Dr. Gittens’ personal narrative is profoundly sufficient. You be the judge.
As their middle child, I can attest that they were great parents. They stressed the value of education and exposed us to the many cultural institutions that New York City has to offer. They had little money but were resourceful in finding free or low-cost options – children’s opera, matinee theater, museums, community program dance classes, etc. In pursuing her career advancement, my mother found ways to spend quality time with us; for example, when she was taking courses towards her master’s, she would take one of us with her to have one-on-one time to and from the school, about an hour each way.
My father is the ultimate New York City boy. Now that he is almost 105 (she is 104), we had to bring him to Miami so I could look after them. He complains constantly about not being in New York so that he can order any kind of food that he wants and have it delivered.
We are a close extended family on both sides and my parents have many friends, both from their child and young adulthood (mostly passed on by now) as well as younger peo-ple that they volunteered with in their retirement years. They were staunch proponents of developing the next generation onto leadership positions rather than having the older people claim the leadership roles.
For many years from their 60’s, they had a martini almost every evening. That may be the true secret of longevity!
A LOVE STORY – It was a beautiful June day in 1941. I was 23 and a member of the last graduating class from The School on the Hill, in South Atlanta. The United States was in a depression. There was a war in Europe. President Franklin D. Roosevelt had signed a Universal Draft Act.
A few days earlier my boyfriend, Lyle, had proposed and I had accepted. We would marry after he graduated next year. Barely a week after this idyllic interlude, Lyle was drafted for a year’s stint in the army. I went home to Bradenton, Florida, to work in my father’s insurance company ($25 a week), and to help my parents plan for Lyle’s and my next year’s wedding.
THE WAR YEARS – On December 7th, 1941, Japan bombed Pearl Harbor and the United States declared war against the AXIS Powers. My fiancé was not getting out. Optimistically, we continued with the planning. Fortunately, Lyle managed to get a three day pass and we married on June 4, 1942, at a large ceremony in Bradenton. This was the first time that he had met my family. When he left Bradenton after the wedding, I wondered whether I would ever see him again.
We corresponded daily and in 1943 he was selected for a new program and sent to Ohio State University to study electrical engineering. So that we could be together every day, I moved to Columbus, Ohio, the site of Ohio State University. I found a job as an elevator operator in a premier department store in Columbus.
Blacks were assigned only to service units in the army. The Black press railed against this and reacting to the pressure the army prepared to form an All-Black army combat unit, the 92nd Infantry Division. Lyle was yanked from his program at Ohio State, and sent to Ft. Huachuca, Arizona as part of the cadre. When he left, I did not go home but instead went to New York where I met his family for the first time. The 92nd was soon sent to fight in Italy. From Italy, I received highly censored letters from my husband.
I had become pregnant in Ohio and on June 4. 1944 our son was born…the spitting image of his father. In New York, I got a job in the payroll department at Atlas Aircraft, a company making replacement parts for the air force, and worked there until the war ended.
Part 2 * Continue Next Week
