THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, June 19, 1994 TAG: 9406190065
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B5 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY PAM STARR, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: 940619 LENGTH: Medium
Even after 70 years of marriage, Albert still writes his wife love poems on her birthday. They hold hands in public. They laugh at each other's jokes, no matter how many times they've been repeated.
{REST} The retired Reform rabbi and his wife don't take each other for granted and never go to bed angry. They trust implicitly. And, most importantly, the phrase ``I love you'' passes through their lips daily.
The Shulmans' marriage has been such an inspiration to their family and friends that it only seemed natural for the couple to renew their wedding vows Saturday at the Great Neck home of son Jeremy. They flew in from their home in Sarasota, Fla., for the ceremony and catered dinner. And even though Rose seemed a little embarrassed at all the attention, the significance of the event hit her as daughter Naomi Eckhaus tenderly placed the bridal veil on top of her mother's snow-white hair.
Rose, 89, broke down and cried in her daughter's arms.
``I have always felt loved by him - I'm just lucky,'' she said. ``He has been so good to me; he's absolutely fantastic.''
She wiped her eyes and met her 93-year-old groom under the sacred marriage canopy set up on the back deck, overlooking the swimming pool and Broad Bay. Russian-born Albert, a tall and still-strapping man, smiled at his bride and reached for her hand. They listened while Rabbi Lawrence Forman spoke of their combined achievements in the Reform Judaism movement and of their ``wonderful love of maturity.''
When it came time to recite the vows, neither one hesitated to say ``I do.'' The symbolic cup of wine was drunk by both, followed by a long and tender kiss. Albert then stomped on a covered glass, shouted ``Mazel Tov!'' and kissed his bride again.
``I am a romantic and sentimental,'' he said. ``We have a remarriage every five years or so.''
The Shulmans met on a blind date in Cleveland back in 1922, after Rose's mother spotted him at a dance and thought he would be perfect for her daughter.
She was right.
Two years later they wed on June 15. The one constant throughout their lives has been their marriage, they say. They have two children, five grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.
``We were both occupied with community affairs and social activities,'' said Albert, a Reform rabbi for 33 years in South Bend, Ind. Rose taught high school chemistry. ``The tradition of American life is home, school and church. I think there's more divorces now because the stability of the home has broken down . . . families are not together.''
Albert is an eloquent speaker but even more gifted as a writer. In 1926 he actually wrote a book of love to his wife for her birthday, Nov. 26. The old, brown-covered scrapbook is tattered and the pages are yellowed, but the force of his feelings remain intact. The granddaughters read one of the testimonies of his adoration out loud, sniffling as they spoke.
``Each day, beloved, I think I love thee more than any day that we have ever known, but less than that which is to come,'' he writes. ``What will it matter then in after years, the furrowed cheek, or ever-whitening hair, if always love grows stronger, more serene. . . ''
Rose sat in a chair, listening, and glanced over to her legally blind husband. He sensed her attention and smiled at his wife with 70 years' worth of devotion.
It worked. Tears glistened in her eyes.
``When he smiles, there emanates a certain spirituality from him that transfers to the congregation, his family, his friends,'' she said. ``I think we're more in love now. It's a much more meaningful relationship. We've had a wonderful life together.'' by CNB