My Redacted Life: Sunday Break

Sunday deserves a quick note to bring you up to date on our recent betrothment. As I reported earlier, Brenda planned a church wedding, a modest one out of respect for her hard-working parents. We had, well, she and Vernell had—I wasn't actually consulted—picked the date of August 19th, a Saturday. That would leave enough time for a brief honeymoon and to have the records changed at the school where she taught. She would begin the new school year as "Mrs. von Tungeln" although she had considered using the old-fashioned style like Roy Rogers and Dale Evans had, where she would just keep her original name. But, she decided to go modern and "Mrs." it would be.

All was set. She reserved the date at the family's church, the Methodist one in Lonoke.

Then things got screwy.

The pastor called to inform her that he had reneged on the date because a young couple wanted it. He didn't mention family wealth, prestige, or untoward time constraints, just that this young couple was "really in love." That seemed to settle it.

A mild, but not debilitating panic set in. To postpone our wedding for a week wouldn't allow time for the name-change paperwork. Moving it up a week would create furor over an already cramped schedule. What to do?

Hell, why not get married on, say a Thursday evening? That fit the schedule of all concerned.

"So let it be written, so let it be done," Brenda announced in her most Pharaoh-like manner. My only thought was that I was glad we hadn't bothered to have the date of our marriage engraved on our wedding rings, now safely ensconced in the lay-away at Cave's Jewelry. I just wanted the thing over with. I wasn't comfortable being up in front of people.

So, we accommodated both  a young couple and our own plans without further complication. I've always wanted to check on the marriage that claimed the Saturday night slot. I never have. The percentages, though, for the long-term success of marriages of young couples who were "really in love" at that time, were no better than 40 percent, probably a little lower for rich kids in that part of the world. I've always figured 18 months, tops.

Next, we would meet the preacher.