50th Wedding Anniversary

Welcome, folks, to a corner of the internet dedicated to two of the most inspiring people on the face of God’s green earth: my grandfather, Dennis Eugene Caswell Sr., and his steadfast partner in life, Deloris Caswell, née Wier. This isn't just any tribute. It’s a real true love story, one stretching over five decades and a salute to their 50th wedding anniversary, an extravaganza that blew the lid off the town on September 27th, 2024.

Bur before we get into my grandparent's 50 years of marriage, we need to go back. So, let me take you back to 1974, in good ol' St. Charles, Illinois, when a strong handsome young man named Dennis decided to take a stroll down the wedding aisle. I heard it said that love stories start with a spark, it's true, and theirs was no exception. Against the backdrop of amber autumn leaves, Grandpa and Grandma Deloris sealed a lifelong pact with one another—a bond firm and unyielding as the oak planks Grandpa would later work with in his carpentry marvels.

Family, you see, became their cornerstone. In 1975, the sound of a new Caswell babble filled the air, and my father, Dennis Eugene Caswell Jr., made his grand entrance. Just when diapers had become second nature, in 1976, Aunt Susan (Susan Deloris Milton) swooped in with her unmistakable wails, followed closely by the spirited Uncle Tony (Anthony David Caswell) in '77 and eventually the somewhat-belated gentle genius, Uncle Joey (Joseph Michael Caswell), in '83.

In 1973, a year before exchanging vows, Grandpa Dennis rolled up his sleeves and kickstarted a humble carpentry business. The smell of sawdust whispered ambition, it grounded his dreams; each nail, every shingle placed, a testament to his hard-working ethos, engrained into our family for over a half a century. Under his industrious reign, that business thrived like a cornfield after the rain, allowing him to nurture his brood while sticking to those simple ethics that forged this great nation. Can you imagine? Selling that success in '87, he pivoted, defying skepticism, and laid the groundwork for an empire of egg-laying happiness. And here we are, the second-gen Caswell clan, dealers of America’s breakfast champions across a tri-state region.

Salt of the Earth—now, that's a phrase tailor-made for folks like Grandpa and Grandma Caswell. Humble constituents of the heartland, they've been the sinews and tissue holding our community together. Hard-working, simple folks with feet planted firmly on good American soil, living a life right in the bosom of a land where politics take backstage to day-to-day human decency.

This glorious duo's legacy is carried forward not just by four fiercely loved children but by nine grandchildren and a climbing tally of great-grandkids, each filled with enough anecdotes of Dennis Sr.'s wisdom and pranks to last lifetimes.

Oh! Did I mention our roots sprout all the way back to Glasgow, Scotland? No? Yep it's true. Our kinship with American soil has been brewing since our ever enterprising ancestors nestled here in 1623, four hundred and one years ago. Our family makes up some of the earliest Scottish emigrants to the continent. Those are, four-hundred chomping-at-the-bit years of industrious grit! American grit infused with the Scottish spirit!

Ah, the Scottish spirit.

It's like a finely crafted piece of woodwork—strong, resilient, and full of character. You know, my grandfather always said there's nothing quite like the tenacity and warmth you'd find in Scotland. He and my father made the trek their in 2007 fulfilling one of my grandfathers childhood dreams. Growing up he'd often share stories about how the Scotts have this uncanny ability to weather life's storms with a smile and a song. Something our family is fiercely proud to carry in our spirits as well.

So here’s to Mr. and Mrs. Caswell Sr., with love and unending admiration for one another for over fifty years. You didn’t just embody the American Dream, you wove it into a mosaic, brimming with love, sweat, and celebration—a testament celebrated with a half-century archive of unwavering love and a triumphant spirit.

Malo Mori Quam Foedari
"I prefer to die than to be dishonored"
Latin Inscription on the Caswell Coat of Arms