Dave and Jenny were older when I first met them in the early 1970s. My first job at the company was working in the shop (we had one then), and Dave and Jenny were regulars. They had married late, and because of the economic distress of the Depression had put off children until that wasn’t a possibility anymore. Like many older, childless couples, they grew closer and even parental and protective towards each other, and I thought they had one of the fondest relationships I had ever seen. They did everything together—even collect stamps. They both collected United States—Dave with a concentration towards US Commemoratives and Jenny with a concentration in Airmails. Dave was proud of his Trans-Mississippis. He lacked only the $1. And Jenny’s Zeppelins were complete except for the #C15.It was Christmas 1975 when Dave came to me. Jenny was sick he said, and this might be her last holiday. She had always wanted to complete the Zeppelins, and as their circumstances were modest, he wanted to sell his Trans-Mississippis to buy her the stamp that she was missing. We put together something that let him keep most of his beloved set and get for Jenny the coveted #C15. When they came in the week after Christmas, they were all smiles. I asked Jenny if she liked her #C15, and the story came out. At the same time that Dave was buying the stamp for Jenny, she quietly sold her other Zeppelins to buy Dave the stamp he needed.
She had wanted a special gift for him. The doctors were right, and Jenny never saw another Christmas. And Dave passed away not long after. Both died never completing the sets they wanted, but I think both were about as complete in each other as two people could be.