All of the early weddings were lovely and most of those I attended endured, some now over 50 years and many others very close to 50 years. None of the early weddings, however, stand out in my mind like the wedding of our classmate and my friend, Ebba and her Jerry, on January 6, 1964. A winter wedding--and I thought, “How lovely!” It started to snow about 10 p.m. the night before. I thought, "I hope this lets up." It did not.
In those days, I usually worked on Saturdays, but had taken the afternoon off to be in the wedding--to cut their wedding cake at the reception. I carefully selected an outfit, shoes, coat, etc. and had my hair done late Friday night. Dad had filled the gas tank of the family station wagon and all was ready. It snowed all night and was still snowing by take off time. Dad counseled me to start early and even offered to take me if I was timid about snow driving (he KNEW I was not the best driver and this was dear of him). I assured him I'd be fine. Mom suggested I wear boots. I frowned . . . that didn't really go with what I wanted to wear, but I put them on and used a shoe bag for my new dress shoes (purchased just for this wedding). Dad and my sister shoveled the drive way and I set off. It continued to snow. . . the closer to Rockford I got, the heavier the snow. I crept. I arrived in Rockford and could not remember were Trinity Lutheran Church was located. I stopped to ask a gentleman walking; he gave me directions and I thanked him. He added, "Hell of a day for a funeral." I said it was a wedding and he said, "Hell of day for that, too!" I promptly got stuck, so he and several other nice folks pushed me out and I was again en route to Ebba's wedding.
When I arrived the car clock said I had ten minutes, then I remembered it ran slow. I plowed my way through the snow to the church and the church janitor was trying in vain to clear the church sidewalks. He said, "Better hurry." Oh sure! I got into the church just as her minister said, "I now pronounce you. . . " and heard the organist boom out, in that nearly empty church, the recessional. Ebba and Jerry were frankly surprised to see me, as so many of their relatives didn't make it.
I cut that wedding cake with my boots on! I don't remember even taking off my coat. I was so worried about getting home, I remember very little else. Except Ebba's wedding dress. Her mother had hand made this lovely wedding dress for her youngest daughter and it was just the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. A soft ivory in a style that showed off Ebba's slim waist. She insisted I take a piece of cake home to sleep on (that is an old custom so if you dream of a young man, you will marry). I took the cake, said my good byes, and good lucks, and started back for home. I wasn't there much over an hour and when I returned to the car I needed to be pushed out again. Snow removal in the 60's wasn't what it is now and the streets were a mess. I had to reverse my directions to get home and I could barely see.
The blizzard raged on. I was a wreck. I turned on the car radio but the only station I could get was playing Claude Thornhill's "Snowfall," a lovely piece and a favorite of mine, but not that day. I crept to Rt. 2, which anyone local knows is a winding route into Oregon known for its accidents even in good weather. I began to sweat and to take deep breaths. I stopped in Byron and waited for a snow plow. I got behind one and made it safely to Oregon. The storm raged around me and it was nightfall. I stopped at a gas station and called home. Mom wanted me to stay in Oregon with her friend and not try coming home up Liberty Hill just west of Oregon. Just as I put down the phone to call Mom's artist friend, the state snow plow rumbled past. I got back in the trusty station wagon and I and several other cars followed it safely to Mt. Morris. When I came into the house I said, "piece of cake," and handed over my wedding cake to my sister. Only while telling my family about my harrowing trip did I remember I left my new shoes in the back pew of Trinity Lutheran Church, never to be seen again and never worn!
The snow was reported to be nearly 24 inches and it was days before everyone was shoveled out. Ebba and Jerry had to take a bus into Chicago for their delayed honeymoon as their car was buried. Many of Jerry's relatives from central Illinois did not make it and his parents were nearly snowed in at the Rockford Motel!
Ebba and I laugh about this from time to time and she told the story at my bridal shower in 1974. For my own wedding I had at first thought a Christmas wedding then I remember all that snow and decided October would work better.
Ebba and Jerry were married 42 years. Jerry died in 2004 after a short illness. They have four children, three daughters and a son and five grandchildren. Ebba still lives in the home she and Jerry shared and she keeps busy with family and friends and her church involvements. She still has that lovely wedding dress carefully packed away along with those wonderful memories of that unforgettable winter wedding.
1 comment:
Such a handsome couple!
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