I was discussing the idea of continuing with my recent autobiographical posts when my wife, Embry, timidly inquired, “Is there going to be anything about me?”
Good heavens, I thought, of course there is!
Susan Embry Martin and I were married by her uncle Jack, a Methodist minister, on December 28, 1965, mere children at a time when it was not all that unusual for child weddings like ours (pre sexual revolution of the 1970s). She was 20. I was 23. We celebrated our 60th wedding anniversary last year with our two, now middle aged, children, their spouses and our four teenage grandchildren at a resort in New England. Our marriage has been a partnership as well as a love match since we have grown up together, travelled the world together, and have had parallel careers.
It is fitting and proper to introduce Embry to those who do not know her.
Embry was the third child of Lousie and Grier Martin. She was born in 1945 in Bethesda, Maryland, where her family lived during the war when Grier was finishing up his duties as a naval officer. They returned to Bristol, Tennessee, for several years before settling in Davidson, North Carolina. Her father went on to become the President of Davidson College from 1958-1968. Some readers may recall that I graduated from Davidson in 1964. So, yes, I married the president’s daughter! This was considered a coup at the time—since she was eyed by many Davidson students, who upon occasion could not miss seeing a pretty tomboy walking or skipping across the campus barefooted. That I, of all people, should be the one to win the hand of this extraordinary person was a long shot. Afterall, I was the “student radical” at the time, who organized and led a civil rights march in Charlotte the spring of my senior year in 1964 and was persona non grata with the college administration. (I did meet with Embry’s father as was required by such actions and found him to be surprisingly neutral, almost supportive. “The Board of Trustees has ordered me to tell you to stop your march but I do not have that the authority to do that.” A couple of years after that he became instrumental in welcoming African American students to Davidson. I was a big fan of both of Embry’s parents.)
While I had watched Embry play pickup basketball with several of Davidson students (one of whom was her boyfriend), I did not really meet her until a last-minute, blind date arranged by a mutual friend for the Davidson Spring Frolics weekend my senior year at Davidson. If it was not love at first sight, it was close to it. She was a freshman at Randolph Macon Women’s College at the time the romance began. We shared many of the same values and aspirations to try to make the world a kinder, fairer, and gentler place. I was hooked from the day we met.
Our wedding was held 18 months later in the Davidson College Presbyterian Church with close to a thousand people attending (practically the entire town had been invited, along with the Davidson faculty, Board of trustees and benefactors.) A reception followed with not a whole lot of food, a long receiving line, no band, no dancing, no music or alcohol, and lots of good will. That was the way most Presbyterian weddings in the South were in those days. Since we had no money, we spent our honeymoon at the Martin lake house about a half hour’s drive away on Lake Norman. For me the whole experience could not have been better.
Here is what you need to know about Embry Howell. First, she grew up with the nickname of “Mimy.” That is not the same as “Mimi,” which many people have incorrectly called her since few people have ever heard of anyone by the name of Mimy. In fact, I was not even certain that there was anyone else living on the planet with that name until I checked with AI. The answer came out that there are about five girls in the world each year named “Mimy,” due mostly to the misspelling of “Mimi.” The reason she got that name was that this was her early pronunciation of her middle name, “Embry,” that her parents wanted her to be called by. When she got to college, she dropped the “Susan” completely and was known as Embry Martin, becoming Embry Martin Howell after we were married and she transferred to Barnard, the women’s college next to Union. She is still known as Mimy by her old friends and by me when we are not with other people.
Second, she was brought up as a Presbyterian. By nature, Presbyterians are hardworking, unpretentious, modest and stingy. Even if they have a lot of money—which many do—they do not let on that they do and are penny pinchers. They can’t help it. This is in sharp contrast to Episcopalians, who tend to spend money whether we have it or not. Plus, Presbyterians are extremely competitive. And if you need proof of Embry’s competitiveness, just ask anyone who has ever played tennis or pickleball with her.
And there are other characteristics that distinguish Embry. She has always been very secure in her own skin and never tried to be someone she isn’t. She is also incapable of telling a lie. But even when she tells an unwelcomed truth that might upset someone, she does it in a way that does not offend. And finally, she is very smart and driven to do the very best she can albeit in school, career, volunteering, or parenting. In a word, she is one tough cookie and has been a wonderful life partner.
Embry graduated from Barnard College as a Phi Beta Kappa, majoring in math. She got a masters in biostatistics at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill, followed a few years later by a PhD in public policy at the George Washington University and is a widely respected (now retired) health care researcher specializing in maternal and child health. She has been and is a terrific mother to our children and a doating grandmother to our four grandchildren.
This does not mean that our marriage has been perfect or without its challenges. This is true of all marriages, especially when you have two people with strong personalities, who are driven in trying to find their place in the world and have stressful and challenging careers. But it has been a great marriage for which I am deeply grateful.
You got it. I lucked out.
But what I have not told you is how life changed for us after we got married. When we first met and all the way to our marriage in late 1965, we both understood that I was going to be an Episcopal priest and that Embry Howell was going to be the mother of our six children. Six! That was her idea, not mine. I envisioned a stay-at-home mom —as most women were in those days. But she has corrected me more than once that even at that time she wanted to pursue a challenging career and have six kids. She now admits that her goal was a bit unrealistic and says even though she loves infants and small children, she has no regrets.
My, how the world—and our place in it—changed starting in the fall of 1966 after we returned from our civil rights experience in Southwest Georgia!
What happened next and how we made our way in the world will be the subject of future posts. Stay tuned.