The Wedding

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The Wedding   

      

     The day was perfect that August 20, 1955, but I would never have known.  There was so much going on that weather reports were irrelevant.  I was getting married today!  There was a slight rumble of trouble from Marie who suspected Eva of informing the relatives of the location and time of the wedding.   Eva brushed it off and didn’t allow the conversation to continue.  Everyone got dressed in their best and as Arnie and Eva drove out of the yard we scurried to get last minute things loaded into the Ford which included a two gallon can of water for our leaking car.   

    
















     Our time was short and a train was passing in front of us at Cheney.  The engineer didn’t realize of course that the delay was making us later for our wedding and his train seemed to barely creep along until finally the caboose rolled clear of the crossing.  The minute the cross arms were up we were off and up the hill to the church arriving about ten minutes late.  No one would believe a lame excuse like “we were held up by a train”.  That didn’t matter.  We entered the church and Marie caught sigh of all the relatives in attendance.  It was a tense moment and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had bolted for the door. I guess she realized her mother had put one over on her and there wasn’t a graceful way out of it now.  The ceremony went smoothly.  Dewey even had the ring ready when needed.  A photographer was present to take pictures and then a short reception followed where I met Marie’s relatives.

     They all seemed like interesting people and Marie was exchanging conversations with them, but we both wanted to get on the road, so with goodbye and thank you to everyone we hastened out with Esther.  Dewey had his car ready to whisk us to Esther’s parent’s places and our get-a-way car. Dewey had guarded our car from any attempt by others to decorate it, but he couldn’t resist the chance to get me one last time.  We drove off with a well decorated vehicle covered with messages.  I would have to think of ways to get Dewey when the chance presented itself.  He was my best friend and a super Best Man.  Our goodbyes were warm and spoke of continued contact.  It was getting late, so we headed for Montana, but not before stopping at a service station and washing all the windows.

 *Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 2, Roles and Responsibilities of an Educator", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill