HAYWOOD, Ky. — On a hot June day in 1956, Opal Craine walked down the aisle in a homemade wedding dress to marry Glenn Alexander, beginning a journey that would span generations and carry them through 70 years together.

The couple exchanged vows on June 23, 1956, inside Salem Baptist Church near Cave City, unaware that the life they were starting would become a milestone reached by only a fortunate few.

“I hardly remember anything that was said in that church,” Glenn said. “It was so hot. It was full of people and had the windows blocked off.”

On a recent morning, I sat with the couple in their Haywood home for a reflection prompted by their granddaughter, Jess, who had written with unmistakable pride about their upcoming anniversary.

When I rang the storm door, I could make out only a narrow hallway and hear a soft voice before a small, shuffling figure came into view.

It was Opal Alexander, smiling as she opened the door and welcomed me inside. With a gentle voice, she pointed me down the hall toward a small dining area and followed behind.

A moment later, Glenn emerged from around the corner and greeted me with a handshake. He pointed me to a chair at the dining room table, then took the seat across from me while Opal settled onto a nearby couch.

Together, they began recalling the life they had built.

Weddings were simpler affairs in those days, the couple recalled. Friends, bridesmaids and fellow 4-H club leaders helped decorate the church, and neighbors pitched in to make sure everything came together.

“I bought the material for my wedding dress, but one of my 4H leaders made it for free because she wanted to,” Opal said.

Their story, however, had started years earlier at Hiseville High School.

The two “went together” for a time before breaking things off. It seemed the relationship had run its course, but life had other plans. They eventually found their way back to each other, and this time, something stuck.

Back then, Griderville, where Opal grew up, and Hiseville, where Glenn was raised, felt far removed from “the city,” Glasgow, which was only a fraction of what it would become.

When the Alexanders moved to Glasgow more than 60 years ago, there was just one stoplight at the intersection of West Main and North Race streets, where Fine Arts Bistro stands today.

Since then, they have watched the community grow, raised two sons and seen their family expand to include five grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren. Many of them live nearby, turning the road around their Haywood home into something of a family community.

Along the way, they have accumulated a lifetime of memories and, inevitably, a few lessons.

A marriage that has lasted seven decades is bound to produce plenty of wisdom. For the Alexanders, it begins with their Christian faith and a shared belief that marriage means replacing “I” with “we.”

“I guess one thing that's held our marriage together: it was never her family and my family. It was our family,” Glenn said. “My parents were like her parents. Her parents were like my parents, you know, and brothers and sisters, the same way.”

Throughout their 70 years together, there have been only a handful of nights when they were apart, something they have always made a priority.

“Really, my worst time was during the time she was in college,” Glenn said.

At the time, Opal was without a job and the couple was raising their second child. Glenn was working seven days a week when a passage of scripture encouraged her to pursue teaching.

“I always wanted to be a teacher but didn't see much future in that when we graduated,” she said. “The Lord provided that I was able to do that.”

She returned to school and went on to spend nearly 28 years in the classroom, mostly at E.B. Terry Elementary School, with a half-year at Happy Valley Elementary.

While Opal built a career in education, Glenn spent years mastering different trades. His brother taught him electrical and refrigeration work, skills that led him through a variety of jobs and eventually to a stint as Glasgow’s building inspector.

But Glenn’s sense of work and responsibility started long before that.

When he was 10 years old, he wanted to join the 4-H Club but needed a project. For Christmas, he asked for a pig.

It arrived in an unwrapped box, a Hampshire piglet that became his first responsibility in raising livestock. Gifts, he recalled, were not wrapped in those days.

The pig grew into a gilt, then a hog, and eventually became the center of a small farm operation. By the time he was 16, Glenn had sold the last litter of pigs and used the money to buy an engagement ring for Opal from Neville’s Jewelry in Horse Cave.

The hog itself was later slaughtered and processed, providing meat for the couple’s first year of marriage. Even the final sale of cured hams helped them take another step forward, providing money that went toward turning on utilities in their first home in Glasgow.

Through the years, hardships came. Glenn recalled being in debt with some land and not knowing what to do. He eventually sold property and worked to pay off $40,000 in a year through tobacco and cattle.

“This whole farm, this whole flat here, was in tobacco,” he said, pointing beyond the windows of his Haywood home. “I paid that note off. I worked myself to death getting it there, but I got it paid off, so I haven't been in debt since.”

Asked how they managed to build the life they have today, Opal pointed to her husband. She said Glenn had always been a good manager, helping the family navigate difficult times and steer clear of bigger troubles.

The Alexanders said tackling life together has helped them create what they have today, from the home Glenn built with his own hands to the close-knit family surrounding them.

Sitting in their dining room, it was hard not to notice the signs of that life.

The formal living room disappeared years ago. In its place sit three tables that come together each Thanksgiving, making room for children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. A couch rests nearby beside a small round table in the dining room. Nothing about the house feels formal. Everything about it feels lived in.

Though age has slowed their annual trips to Panama City Beach and kept them from getting out as much as they once did, some routines have remained unchanged.

They still attend church together, a routine that has remained steady through the years. Recently, their congregation paused to recognize their 70th wedding anniversary.

Midway through the conversation, their adult granddaughter Lauralee Turner stepped inside to greet them. Opal got up from her seat and walked into the nearby room with her.

At one of the tables just off the dining area, the two began pulling out photo albums, sorting through a lifetime of pictures tucked into worn pages as they prepared for the upcoming church celebration.

Glenn, never shy about sharing his opinion, shook his head at drivers who fail to use turn signals as talk turned briefly to how much busier Glasgow has become.

As our conversation wound down, it became clear that the Alexanders had built exactly the sort of life they wanted.

Their home sits among family. Their church remains central to their lives. And though the trips to Panama City Beach have become fewer and age has slowed their pace, neither seemed interested in dwelling on what they can no longer do.

Opal was quick to note that their story was not the only one worth telling, pointing out that many others in the community share similar examples of lasting marriage and faith.

“I would say we were faith-based and our upbringing had a lot to do with it,” Opal said. “We had a lot of good parental guidance.”

Instead, they talked about children, grandchildren and the next Thanksgiving gathering around those three tables.