All you need is love...and pea salad

June 29^th is the date each year when I celebrate being one of the luckiest men alive.  It’s the day that I married the beautiful Jane Brantlinger and began a lifelong adventure of love and happiness that continues on.

We had just picked a date and were ordering the invitations for a late summer wedding when I received my orders to report to the Army on July 4 for active duty. We scrambled for arrangements, available churches and wedding party travel schedules.  June 29 was our best option.  Jane had a lot of ideas, as you might imagine, about music, ceremony, reception and other details, while my main concern was whether or not I could rise again with my bad sports knees after kneeling for a long period of time during the vows.

I gave notice to my bosses on Capitol Hill and they said I would have a job when I got out of the service.  Good insurance, but I never went back.  We took a traditional approach…marriage license at the courthouse, meeting with the minister (who I didn’t know and haven’t seen since) and selecting the black tuxes that were devastatingly hot in the 90 degree, humidity-laden DC summer weather. Interestingly, ex-KING-TV reporter, Julie Blacklow’s father rented us the tuxes.  Julie and her father and I figured this out years later here in Seattle.

We had five days after the ceremony to drive from DC to Lawton, Oklahoma, where I would be going to artillery gunnery school at Ft. Sill.  I remember buying a Mobil Travel Guide and planning our stops in Holiday Inns across the country.  The most memorable part of those stays was the same pea salad that was served at the salad bar in every hotel.  It became our first family joke.

The only real damper on the trip was that I had to sell my beloved mustang and buy us a brand new, very roomy, Chevrolet Chevelle.  It was like a tank but it did hold everything we owned at that point in our lives.

The ceremony was held on a beautiful, hot, sunny day and all was on track until my best man opened his tux rental bag about 45 minutes before heading to the church.  There were no pants.  I considered making him stand in front of the crowd that way but Jane would have none of it. So we had to arrange a frantic hand-off with Julie’s dad on the berm of the Capitol Beltway.  It worked by the skin of our teeth.

We got married at high noon because one of Jane’s relatives told her that if both hands of the clock were pointing straight up, it was good luck.  In the long run that appears to be true, though I really think we've been pretty lucky regardless of the hands on the clock.  The ceremony went great. No problems at all, including both of my knees working when I had to get up from the kneeling position.

The reception was in a nearby hotel and we had a sit-down meal.  Jane and I circulated around to each table and were able to spend time with all our guests, which was a plus for us because we didn't know when we would see them again.  When it came time for toasts, I remember most my Uncle Tom (Dad’s brother) standing up and beginning with “As I stand here with an empty glass…” My father-in-law, our host, was a bit embarrassed, but he laughed.

As soon as the reception was over, we had to jump into travel mode to be in Lawton by the 4^th.  It was a wonderful day. Jane was beaming the whole time so you know I was happy. We were told we missed a great party at my parents’ house, when all our friends drank up every ounce of booze in the closet while singing and performing show tunes at the piano until the wee hours. However, the new Chevelle got us to Breezewood, PA at the entrance to the Pennsylvania Turnpike, on time and on schedule. I can still see Jane walking slowly around in the shallow end of the pool, trying not to get her wedding hair-do wet. She still looked radiant when we went out to dinner that night and had fried chicken in the best “Tom Jones-movie” tradition.

Today our memory box is overflowing.  I love Jane more and more each year we have together.  Good friends make good mates and we spent a long time becoming friends.  Still, when we’re listening to classical music on a CD, the radio or at the Symphony, Jane will turn to me and say “You know they played that at our wedding.” And my knees begin to ache.  All you need is love.