Side by Side for 60 Years, and Still Flirting

It’s been 60 years since Bill Williams met Myrtle Holmes; 60 years since the couple were struck by Cupid’s arrow on an Easter Sunday, at a nightclub in L.A.’s Little Harlem.

But they have never recovered.

“I saw her walking by with this friend of mine,” Bill said as he reminisced last week about their first encounter. “I said to my cousin, ‘Man, look at that.’”

“Who were you looking at?” asked Myrtle, sitting next to him on the couch of their Compton home. “You, of course!” he smiled as he answered her.

“And I said, ‘Young lady, you look very, very nice.’”

Myrtle, who’s been Myrtle Williams for the last 59 years, glowed. “When I start thinking back on those first days,” she said, “everything goes back, and I live it all over again. I think we’re a little bit crazy.”

Bill and Myrtle Williams define what it means to truly belong to another person. They finish each other’s sentences, crave almost continual physical contact with each other, share the same cigarettes, drink the same kind of gin, and sing along to Billie Holiday, Arthur Prysock and other balladeers.

And they flirt. Constantly.

“They are always courting each other,” said Wini Jackson, 59, who dropped by Friday afternoon to check on the couple. “Sometimes I feel like I’m an intruder to their world. They’ve got this thing going on. I’m just watching it.”

She calls him “Daddy”; he, in turn, calls her “honey.”

The couple never had children, but they joined the PTA groups of nearby schools so that they could be part of the extended family of children who lived near their home on 137th Street.

Both born in 1917 (“I’m August, he’s December,” said Myrtle), the Williamses have watched as Los Angeles has changed around them, as friends have passed away and the children they have mentored have grown up.

The 84-year-olds still work side by side in the business, Bill Williams Florist, they started in 1958 and still run out of their Compton home. Myrtle quit her job in the garment industry to work with her husband; together, they have prepared floral arrangements for countless events in the life of their community. Many believe theirs is one of the oldest African American-owned flower shops in the country.

Although flowers have not made them rich, flowers have made them happy. Blossoms are a constant in their life, as evidenced by the car-sized walk-in refrigerator that takes up most of their backyard. Myrtle said that no one had ever given her a flower before Bill brought her a corsage made of lavender cattleya orchids. “It was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen,” she said. Since then, the years have passed in a steady stream of carnations, gladioli and irises, Myrtle’s favorite flower.

When friends cannot afford a flower for a special occasion, said Jackson, who grew up in the neighborhood, Bill has been known to give his wares out at a heavy discount. This generosity of spirit is crucial to who the Williamses are, and why their friends have always wanted to do something in return.

Jackson said that when she learned the couple’s wedding had been a simple ceremony in the home of the neighborhood preacher, with Myrtle wearing pants and Bill his work clothes, she knew something had to be made right.

Friends Pitch In to Plan a Formal Ceremony

She and others started calling on friends and strangers, asking for help in creating the wedding that the Williamses never had. Howell’s Bakery donated a three-tiered wedding cake; Landmark Limousines offered a chauffeur-driven car; Robbins Bros. provided matching wedding rings.

At a reception Saturday in the community room of the Willowbrook Senior Center, Bill shook hands like a politician and Myrtle blew kisses to the crowd. She clutched an orchid-and-rose bouquet in her hands, her first bridal bouquet. Despite having made scores of bouquets for other brides, Myrtle had never had one of her own. So Jackson ordered two: one for the reception and a second for a surprise ceremony today at the Wayfarers Chapel.

What the Williamses don’t know is that a ride to church today will actually be a ride across town for a renewal of their vows.

What’s their prescription for having made love last so long?

“Don’t think about it,” said Myrtle. “Just do it. You don’t have to think about being happy and being contented.”

“And there’s another thing,” added Bill. “If you relax, you’ll be surprised what that does.”

They don’t argue, said Bill: “There’s a certain amount of respect, and I never forget it. Why should I curse at something I love?”

And then there are the compliments. Myrtle said her husband treats her like a lady; Bill, in turn, said his wife has taught him how to be a true gentleman.

He practiced that courtliness as his wife got ready for a photographer to take her picture.

“She still is a beautiful woman at 84,” he whispered.

His wife smiled. “Thank you! I think you’re cute too.”