On June 3, 1951, at the Rainbow Hotel in Great Falls, Montana, a young newlywed couple danced together for the first time as husband and wife.  

John Donoghue and Margie Throm, now Mrs. Donoghue, glided in step with the music as the words from “Some Enchanted Evening” drifted through the air.

“Some enchanted evening / When you find your true love,” sing the lilting lyrics. “Once you have found her / Never let her go / Once you have found her / Never let her go.” 

John and Margie never did let go of each other, and they never stopped dancing to “Some Enchanted Evening.” The song could have been written about their love story. Seventy-five years later, at their home in Kalispell, now 93, they clasp hands and sneak glances at each other as they reminisce on the decades they’ve spent together.  

Theirs is a love story for the ages, orchestrated by divine powers, John insists. From the moment the two were born, heavenly beings were conspiring to bring the couple together.  

“So was the joy in heaven when the good Lord saw, some distance away, a cute little girl was born, and they thought this could be something,” he said with dramatic flair. “And even though it was over 1,100 miles away from Des Moines, Iowa, to Great Falls, Montana, there was a little girl born there, and it was destined that someday that it would meet.” 

And they finally did meet, 16 years later, on a warm June night in 1949 along the banks of the Missouri River at a Great Falls Electrics baseball game. John was a 16-year-old kid who grew up in Los Angeles, and with his dark, curly ducktail hair and rolled-up jeans, he looked like James Dean dropped into a small Montana town. The California high schooler was in Great Falls for a summer construction job. A few weeks before, he had hopped on a Santa Fe bus and headed north to a place he had never heard of before. 

Sometime in the fourth or fifth inning, John went down for a hot dog, and “lo and behold, the girl that served me that hot dog really got my attention.” 

The girl in question was, of course, Margie Throm, the local sweetheart and Snow Ball Queen born and raised in Great Falls.  

“I think both of us... the minute we saw each other...” Margie trailed off with her eyes on John, searching for words to describe the moment they met. “There was just something special between the both of us.” 

Their first date was at the Meadowlark Country Club, where they dined and danced as an orchestra played in the warm summer evening. The summer slipped by like dream, and before they knew it, Margie was watching as John climbed on a bus headed back to Southern California.  

In this moment, if their love story were the movie it seems to be, the screen would fade to black as the lilting words echo: “Some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger / You may see a stranger across a crowded room / And somehow you know, you know even then / That somewhere you’ll see her, again and again.” 

The smitten young couple wouldn’t see each other again in person for a year, but they kept in touch with letters and phone calls. History was marching forward, and by May of 1950, the United States was preparing to enter the Korean War. John was in the Army Reserves. His unit was the first to be mobilized and he was called to report to Fort Lewis in Washington state.  

On the drive up, though, John made a stop in Great Falls, and phoned ahead to let Margie know he would be in town once again. 

“We met face to face, and it was just like they say, the fireworks,” John began. 

“We just knew that we were definitely meant for each other,” Margie finished. 

More letters and phone calls followed, until a cold snowy day in February 1951, when John proposed to Margie in Great Falls. He did everything the proper way: asked Margie’s father for his blessing, got down on one knee, waited until she said yes. 

“Except, I was AWOL!” John laughed with the timing of a joke that has been told hundreds of time, but hasn’t lost any of its charm. 

When he proposed, John had a weekend of leave with the expectation that he remain within 150 miles of the base. Not allowing his plans to be thwarted by a technicality, he caught a ride with an Air Force plane headed for Great Falls. Immediately after the wheels touched down in Montana, the landing strip was closed due to a winter storm, and John found himself trapped two states away. 

The storm eventually cleared, and John returned to Fort Lewis. 

“They were very understanding, but the law is the law, so I lost a stripe but gained a fiancé!” John said with a grin. 

THE WEDDING took place just months later, on June 3, 1951, at St. Gerard’s Catholic Church in Great Falls. Margie graduated from high school on a Friday, was confirmed into the Catholic Church on Saturday and was married on Sunday. The couple was only 18, and for their honeymoon, they road tripped around the Flathead Valley in Margie’s brother’s 1948 Mercury.  

It was the beginning of a marriage that would span decades and bring about eight children, 23 grandchildren and 35 great-grandchildren. A book could be filled with the Donoghues’ stories.  

They lived in a trailer at the Hanford atomic energy plant for their first year of marriage, and at night it was so cold their quilt froze to the wall.  

John worked five or six jobs to support his growing family as he studied civil engineering at Gonzaga University.  

They took in foster babies, and John led Bible studies at the Monroe State Prison and invited released convicts over to his house for dinner.  

At the height of his successful career, John left it all behind to buy a resort in Eastern Washington because, he said, “there’s more to life than the almighty dollar.”  

In 2003, the Donoghues moved to Kalispell, where their daughters Janae and Patty live, and they blush every time their daughters praise them.  

“There were hard sacrifices that that they made throughout all of our lives for us,” said Patty. “It was faith and family always, always first. They taught us obedience, humility, obviously goodness.” 

And of course, there’s the question everyone asks the Donoghues: how have they made it work for 75 years? 

“Marriage is a sacrament, and vows are taken, and we believe those vows,” explained John. “We have been supported by our family and our communities, and people don’t realize that when they attend a wedding as a witness, they're being called upon to support what has just been said, and without it, it's not going to happen. We've been blessed with the support of the communities.” 

"There's certainly not a singular answer,” continued Margie. "But I think the word is forgiveness. You have to be able to forgive.” 

And 75 years later, through challenges and victories, John and Margie are still dancing together. Even in their 90s, they’re the last ones on the floor, holding each other close. 

“Who can explain it? / Who can tell you why? / Fools give you reasons / Wise men never try,” muses the song they love so much.  

John and Margie seem to know why.  

“Once you have found her / Never let her go / Once you have found her / Never let her go.” 

Reporter Elsa Ericksen can be reached at 406-758-4459 or [email protected]. If you value local journalism, pledge your support at dailyinterlake.com/support.