CORDRY-SWEETWATER — When asked if either of them predicted that they’d be married 70 years, Remy and Lina Aumage’s answers are quick and identical.

“No.”

They still have disagreements. “Oh God, every day,” Remy says.

Over what? “Everything,” Lina says.

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“But a few hours later, you forget about it,” Remy says. “That’s the way you have to do. … Because, you know, we’d be divorced 10 times. There’s no marriage without a little something.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Lina adds.

“Besides me,” Remy says.

Lina shakes her head. “Can you believe that? … He always thinks he’s right. But he’s not.”

The Aumages, of Cordry-Sweetwater, met nearly 80 years ago when they were teenagers.

They were married Oct. 30, 1948, in their native France, when they were both 22.

Reaching a 70th anniversary is so rare, the U.S. Census Bureau doesn’t even track how many couples make it. Only 6 percent reach their 50th anniversary.

The Aumages celebrated Nov. 4 with a family dinner. Besides their son, John, and daughter-in-law, Angie, of Brown County, they have three grandsons, Nathaniel, Zach and Nick, and three great-grandsons who all live in the Indianapolis area.

Indianapolis was where the couple landed in the mid-1950s when they came to America.

They had been raised in the south of France near the village of Montsegur, which is where they were married.

“It is the best place to live in the world,” Remy declares. “Paris is beautiful, but it’s a big city, a fast city. South of France, people go slow. They eat good — olive oil, escargot … and cheese, French bread, brioche.”

Most people only had transportation by bicycle, and on one of these trips to town to see a movie, Remy met Lina. Initially, they were just friends. “She was a nice, little pretty girl, sweet,” he said.

“I was sweet?” Lina asks.

“And very, very bashful,” Remy continues. “We just met a few times like this, and then I moved. I went to a different city. I lived in Marseilles most of the time and then I volunteered to go to Africa, because I was going to go into the army anyway.”

Remy was sent to Morocco for three years during World War II. His job was to supply the army and navy with food, clothing and other items for daily living from different vendors in Africa.

“I stayed until I got malaria. They sent me in the Sahara Desert. It was so hot, I got bit by a mosquito — the wrong one, I guess,” he said.

He went back to France for three months to recover, and that’s when he “met” Lina again. Eight months later, they were married.

Their only son, John (Jean-Francois), was born in 1952.

It wasn’t easy to make it in post-war France. In Montsegur, a blustery river town, with only a cooking stove for warmth, it was so cold the Aumages had to keep baby John bundled up with mittens at night with a hot bottle of water.

In wartime, Remy had worked on a farm. Food was scarce so that gave him greater access. After they were married, they both went to work at the local jewelry factory. Lina worked on the springs for wind-up watches.

“I didn’t have any choice,” she said, when asked if that’s what she wanted to do.

One of the only other industries was a toilet paper factory where her father worked.

Remy’s sister married an American soldier after the war and they moved to the U.S. His mother suggested Remy follow them.

“You see gold coins on the ground. … You don’t really know what it’s like,” Remy said.

Remy’s sister was able to “sponsor” her brother and bring him to America in November 1955, but Lina and little John couldn’t come with them due to immigration rules. For eight months, they remained with Lina’s parents in France.

With the help of his sister, Remy found a one-bedroom house for $50 a month and a job at the Rost Jewelry Company in downtown Indianapolis.

“I didn’t speak very better English,” he said. “I speak a bit better now, but not that much.”

After a few months he went to his boss and told him about the trouble he was having bringing his wife and son to America. His boss picked up the phone and called a friend of his, a senator.

“Three months, she was here,” he said.

The move was hard on Lina, who knew no English.

“I didn’t like it,” she said, talking about the family she left back home. “My father passed away first. And my mother, my sister …” she said, tearing up.

“When you’re young, you don’t think about those things. … A few years, you think, did we do the right thing?”

Lina found a job at the RCA factory, where she built televisions.

After work, they took classes to learn English with people from many different countries.

“We were never home before 11 at night, and with a little boy, it’s kind of difficult. We were there two, three years and had to give up,” Remy said. “I don’t have my high school diploma, which didn’t bother me much because I did pretty good besides that. Other people with more background don’t do as good.”

Lina is more likely than Remy to speak English at home because she had more opportunities to practice it in her work setting, he says.

“No,” Lina interjects.

He proceeds. “Sometimes she say, ‘Why don’t you speak English? Seems like French is more punch depending on what you say.’”

Remy worked for 17 years at Rost before striking out with a jewelry store of his own. He eventually moved the business to Monument Circle, then near the Indianapolis Power and Light building.

“And there was a French restaurant there, with a French cook,” Lina said.

“And we were really good friends, dined there a few times a week. … Then the guy moved. He went back to France to work for Disney World as a cook, in Paris. So we lost our French cook again,” Remy said.

Remy worked at that building until retiring in 1988. Then, the couple moved to Cordry-Sweetwater to be nearer their family.

They’ve spent the past 30 years traveling, gardening, volunteering with St. Vincent de Paul and St. Agnes Catholic Church, paddling on the lake and fishing with the grandkids.

They don’t return as much to France now. It’s a long trip, and there aren’t as many family members there to meet them.

Remy starts to tell a story about his first-ever flight to America, about seeing “an ocean of cars” when he landed in New York, like nothing he’d ever seen before. He arrived during the airline strike, he said, and there was no plane to take him to Indianapolis, so he had to take a 13-hour train.

“No, that’s from Chicago, not from New York,” Lina corrects.

Remy stops, thinks.

“We went on vacation in France. When we came back, that’s when we had the train,” Lina says. “See?”

He continues with the story.

“Oh. Whatever,” Lina says.

But after a little more thought, he concedes:

“She’s right. One time.”