Let’s just say, their union was beshert.
The story begins a little over a year ago, when Vicky Sapper of San Mateo decided to place a singles ad in the Jewish Bulletin on behalf of her daughter Vivian. Recently returned to the Bay Area from New York, Vivian, 29, had moved in with her mom and though seemingly enjoying herself, was not having particular luck on the Jewish singles scene.
“We’d do wonderful things together,” recalls Vicky, “[but I thought] this is no life for a single girl. I just wanted her to go out, to date.”
Without telling her daughter, Vicky sat down and penned an ad, listing some of Vivian’s interests (“likes sports”) and attributes (“affectionate”).
“I wanted to put a simple ad, and I think I knew what was important to her — because the same things are important to me,” she says.
High on their list is “loves family and friends.”
And that was the phrase that caught the attention of Nelly Cesana of Walnut Creek.
“I have been subscribing to the Bulletin for many years,” she begins, “and one of my favorite activities is to read it Saturday morning with my cup of coffee.”
She reads the paper from front to back, including the personals. “Not that I was thinking of making any connection,” says the mother of two then-unmarried sons. “It was just interesting to read what other people were looking for.”
But this time, one ad caught her eye. “I have never ever answered an ad before, but something inside me just pushed me” to respond, she explains.
“[I thought] this girl sounds so great, she would have so much in common with my son. I have to call.
“I just went to the phone. I introduced myself by saying, `I hope you don’t think I’m crazy but…” She concluded her message with, “I would appreciate a call back.”
Then she called her son, who is in his early 30s.
By this time, of course, Vivian was well aware of her mother’s ploy — which she laughingly accepted — and was getting plenty of calls. It was fun: “All these guys were calling me and trying to impress me with how great they were.”
Then came this message from an older woman in a thickly accented voice, which began: “I have this vunderful son…”
After sharing the bizarre news with her mom — who insisted that if nothing else, her daughter simply return the mother’s call out of courtesy — Vivian followed through. Introducing herself, Vivian then began laughing hysterically. She explained, “You won’t believe it, but my mother put that ad in!”
For his part, Joe accepted his mother’s outreach in good humor. But he thought, “This girl will never call.”
But something made her do just that. The two spoke on the phone and chuckled about some of the horrendous blind dates both had experienced. But they continued to talk.
On March 27, 1997, the couple had their first date. Three months later they became engaged. Within eight months they married.
Their mothers, of course, were ecstatic.
“They’re so similar,” says Vivian. “They’re like sisters.”
Her mom emigrated from Argentina, his from Poland. Both were divorced. Both, of course, are close to their children.
For Nelly, it was especially important that her son meet and marry a Jewish girl. A Holocaust survivor with no relatives left except for her two children, “I wanted so much for my son to have a family, a connection,” she says.
“I’m just thrilled and I’m grateful.”
The newlyweds, who live in Danville, still get a kick out of telling others about how they met. “People love it,” Vivian says.
Adds Joe, “It’s a great story, isn’t it?”