Chapter 40: Our Beautiful Wedding

Euphoric Day

On June 23, 1990 I awoke for the final time in my pink room, lovingly redone by Mom and Dad when I was 7 and this little girl’s lair for nearly two decades.

I remember immediately smiling, stretching in bed, and feeling a quick flash of joy mixed with nervousness. I hoped the day’s elaborate plans would unfold with no snags. The sun was shining outside and the mid-morning June breezes whispered through the blinds on my window. It was my wedding day!

“Should have Been You” by Michael Cooper

Michael Cooper – Should Have Been Youmap :: {skin:’black’, animate:false, width:’120′, volume:0.2, autoplay:false, loop:false, showVolumeLevel:true, showTime:true, showRew:true, downloadable:false, downloadablesecurity:false, id3: false}

I hopped into the shower and dressed, and went downstairs to find Mona, Dad and my brother Steve in the dining room. The table was laden with bagels, doughnuts and coffee. I was beyond excited.

John called late in the morning to say hello and that he was visiting and having breakfast with his family at the Renaissance. Hearing his voice left me all giggly.

By noon, the other bridesmaids and the hairdresser arrived, and following a brunch in the dining room, we all retreated upstairs to my bedroom to begin getting ready.

The bouquets, corsages and boutonnières were delivered soon after that. I sat feeling like a queen as they fussed over my hair, makeup and nails. R&B music played as we chattered and shuffled about.

There were ooohs and aaahs as Mom’s wedding dress was finally unzipped from the garment bag. I was assisted with carefully donning this, my “something old” as I was already wearing thigh-high stockings, brasalette and an ample “Scarlett O’Hara” hoop.

My veil (“something new”) was attached carefully to my elegant updo, and it cascaded down to the floor in a sheer, perfect off-white complement to Mom’s dress. My friend Anne lent me my “something borrowed”—pearl earrings, and the “something blue” garter was slid halfway up my thigh.

Mona, Anne and Mo were soon wearing their respective frocks, adorned also by their bridesmaid gifts of water pearl necklaces and bracelets. Mo and Anne had the pastel floral dresses with plain satin pumps, and Mona as Matron of Honor wore the solid dress with lace patterned pumps in the same delicate aqua.

Everyone looked fantastic. It wasn’t long before the doorbell sounded and Dad called up the stairs that the photographer had arrived!

That afternoon as I was bustling with the bridesmaids, John’s Best Man Paul stopped by the apartment to meet John for the rings. He snapped a whimsical picture of John in his tux, bent over the commode pretending to lose his latest meal. That picture cracks us up even today.

Bouquets were doled out and John’s dad came by to pick up the boutonnières for him and the ushers and the corsage for John’s mother.

The photographer clicked the normal battery of pictures in my bedroom, descending the stairs and then some really nice shots out on the front lawn in front of the red Japanese Maple tree. We hammed it up and posed on cue. Passers-by were admiring the goings-on and I was in my glory. I was just hours from being John’s wife!

Now, things were starting to roll. Dad was dashing in his black tuxedo garnished with a white rose boutonniere. Tall and youthful, he was a striking sight and every bit as handsome as in his own wedding pictures 27 years before. For the first time I noticed his somber expression.

It was a day he’d long anticipated since the times he carried me on his shoulders and we played “1-2-3 Bugaloo” on that very spot where we now posed for pictures.

Mom wasn’t there to be a part of it (if only in spirit), but it was happening. And the day was ours to share.

Ready to Go

Around 4:30, the brand-new gleaming 1990 A-1 Limousine Cadillacs pulled up in front of the house—a white bridal and silver stretch.

We wrapped up the pictures and climbed into the waiting cars stocked with champagne. Since there was no “mother of the bride,” Dad rode with Mona and me in the bridal car. The others piled into the silver Caddy and Steve went with Susan, Dad’s lady friend at the time.

The Cadillac convoy arrived at Christ Memorial Lutheran Church to find cars in the lot and people waiting with greetings and good wishes. Susan was on hand to assist in any way necessary, including affixing John’s mother’s orchid corsage to her dress. John’s mom and dad looked wonderful.

We gathered in the vestry as And There Is Love duet by Linda and Rosanna accompanied by the organ drifted from the sanctuary.

I still hadn’t seen John at that point, but was ecstatic to see our college friend John (“Bosche”) who had driven up from Washington, DC for the event. I am grateful that Nana was there among them. Ours was the final wedding she would attend.

From the sanctuary, Trumpet Voluntary sounded on the organ and we assembled for the processional. Two-by-two, the attendants strode forward, and my excitement was brimming.

Last in line were Dad and me. Our ushers and bridesmaids leisurely made their way toward the altar as Dad and I lingered. When it was our turn, the congregation stood and I gazed toward the altar.

There was my sweetheart, in black tuxedo with tails, with the biggest grin on his cute face. It was matched only by my radiant smile as Dad and I slowly proceeded toward the front amidst onlookers. John was so handsome. I could hardly believe this was it. After a wonderful 5-year history, we were about to embark on a 50+ year trip through life together.

Dad acknowledged “giving this woman to be married,” lifted my blusher for a tiny kiss on the cheek, retreated and my fiancé and I turned to face Pastor Haupt.

The ceremony was perfect. I was unable to curtail the tears that flowed as we knelt together and the voices of the CMLC choir sounded from the balcony.

“Kyrie” by Andrea Klouse

Andrea Klouse – Kyriemap :: {skin:’black’, animate:false, width:’120′, volume:0.2, autoplay:false, loop:false, showVolumeLevel:true, showTime:true, showRew:true, downloadable:false, downloadablesecurity:false, id3: false}

The sunlight streamed through the windows as if God Himself were embracing the altar. My joy was complete. The vows were heartfelt, and our personal words to each other happened to be picked up by the mic on John’s lapel.

At one point Pastor requested the rings and Paul stepped forward, promptly depositing the little white boxes on the open book. The rings were quickly removed from their confinements and the ceremony proceeded.

That afternoon, our dream came true and my new husband took his good sweet time when given the green light to kiss his bride.

Following more pictures, the ride to the Renaissance included a route past the house where I grew up, car horns trumpeting all the way. Now, John and I, and Mona and Paul were in the bridal limo. We joked and enjoyed champagne as our journey to the biggest party of our lives continued.

The Party Of a Lifetime

The stately 15-story Ramada Renaissance Hotel loomed as we exited the limousines and began another photo session in the picturesque gardens. Inside, an exquisite two-story fountain greeted incoming guests and a sign directed them to the “Illusions” nightclub, reserved for our cocktail hour. The reception would be held in the Brunswick Ballroom upstairs.

The bridal party went upstairs to enjoy a private celebration in one of the suites before joining everyone else.

The ballroom was teeming with guests and staff. The Jerry Rose Orchestra provided a few jazzy riffs prior to the introductions. Following the bridesmaids and ushers’ entrance, we finally emerged as John pumped his fist to a ripple of giggles as he guided his new bride to the dance floor and under the bridge of bouquets.

Our wedding song (First Dance): “And I Love Her” by The Beatles

The Beatles – And I Love Hermap :: {skin:’black’, animate:false, width:’120′, volume:0.2, autoplay:false, loop:false, showVolumeLevel:true, showTime:true, showRew:true, downloadable:false, downloadablesecurity:false, id3: false}

What a night. We executed our recently mastered rumba box step to our wedding song, the Beatles’ And I Love Her for our first dance.

The beginning strains of Percy Faith’s Theme from A Summer Place were cue for the Father/Daughter dance and Dad and I took our place in the middle of the dance floor. There was a hush among the guests.

Father-Daughter Dance
(Mom & Dad’s wedding song, “Theme From a Summer Place”)

Percy Faith – Theme From A Summer Placemap :: {skin:’black’, animate:false, width:’120′, volume:0.2, autoplay:false, loop:false, showVolumeLevel:true, showTime:true, showRew:true, downloadable:false, downloadablesecurity:false, id3: false}

I glided in the strong arms of Dad, who had cradled me tenderly as a newborn and cared for me for so long, and who had worked so hard to give me every possible opportunity in life. Dad knew how to dance, and the steps came easily as he took the lead.

I’m told there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Dad later said he felt as if he were dancing with Mom again at their wedding, June 16, 1963. It was a moment to treasure.

John and his mom then danced to Moonlight Serenade. It was a charming and touching sight to see them, in their own world, mother and son. She and his father had done such a wonderful job raising my new husband, and for that I will always be grateful. John’s mom looked beautiful in chiffon.

Once the Jerry Rose Orchestra kicked up the tempo, the dancing began. John and I began to make the rounds.

Years ago, Mom had recommended making sure I ate and enjoy the food so I made a point to do just that. I tasted everything possible. We partied. We danced. We visited. We shared the obligatory kiss at each tapping of glasses.

As my brother was not formally included in the festivities, I asked him to take the mic and offer a few words about Mom, which he handled with reverence and flair. Pastor Haupt spoke a blessing, and Paul gave a short and humorous toast as Best Man.

At one point, we visited a family table at which Dad’s first cousin Sabina was seated. She, an old high school chum of Mom’s, had introduced Dad and Mom at one of Granddaddy’s political banquets at Newark Symphony Hall back in 1955.

John took Cousin Sabina’s hand, and everyone at the table watched as John emphatically exclaimed, “BLESS YOU!” We were all hysterical with laughter.

There had been all the traditional reception formalities, including the bouquet and garter toss and cake cutting. There was no Chicken Dance or Hokey Pokey (at our request). When Tarantella began, everyone was out on the floor in a big circle. I left a photo session to join in!

Instead of the corny Bride Cuts the Cake, the band offered a brief, jazzy interpretation of the tune as we sampled the first bites of the light and sugary treat with raspberry filling.

“Tarantella”

Tarantella Napoletanamap :: {skin:’black’, animate:false, width:’120′, volume:0.2, autoplay:false, loop:false, showVolumeLevel:true, showTime:true, showRew:true, downloadable:false, downloadablesecurity:false, id3: false}

My cousin Johnine and her fiancé caught the bouquet and garter.

Five years before, John and I had caught the bouquet and garter at Cousin Mona’s wedding … and we were together just a few months at the time! And here we were, celebrating our own special day.

We soaked up every moment of our reception and lingered until well after 11 when the last guests were sauntering out the door. Exhausted, we knew a Jacuzzi awaited our arrival upstairs in the bridal suite. We said our good-byes and thanked Stuart, our Maître d’, for a wonderful job.

Dad and Susan met us upstairs at the bridal suite, bearing our honeymoon luggage that had been stowed in Susan’s car trunk.

John and I changed out of our wedding gear and gave it to them to bring back to the house. There were sentimental exchanges and well wishes as the clock flirted with midnight, indicating that our *special* time together was fast approaching.

Wedding and honeymoon videos may be viewed here.

Chapter 41: Alone At Last—Honeymoon!!

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