Bob and Joyce United in Finality (at last)
By the time I finished up my basic training and was ready to join the fleet (my new squadron), I had built up 2 weeks of leave time. Joyce had graduated and was in her first year of teaching at Grasmere School in Fairfield CT. Her spring break was in April, so we prearranged the wedding for April 20, 1953. So it was, soon after I had been selected to serve on a flight crew, the personnel department granted my leave. No, it wasn’t a gut’s move, I had cleared those dates sometime before, and since it was before hurricane season, it did not impact our mission at all, and everyone wished me well.
Most of the arrangements were made long distance (telephone). We of course secured the United Church of Christ as the wedding venue, with Rev. Anderson officiating. The event was well publicized and our pictures and `pedigrees” were well represented in the local newspapers, adorned by the pictures (DIII -2). During this period of time, the local newspaper learned I was in the Navy and came by for an interview. Was I ever surprised and embarrassed when what I told the interviewer in no way resembled the way he reported it. After reading it, you would have thought I was a member of the Navy Seals, or something. I have avoided such interviews ever since. It also explains a lot about current news coverage as well. If it is not exciting, they will endeavor to make it so. Anyway, with a lot of telephoning, and Joyce’s help we secured our ushers (currently groomsmen). They were: Joyce’s cousin, Randy Edwards, my good friend from Middlebury, Frank Churchill, my brother Dick, Joyce’s brother, Gordon Edwards, my good friend of many years, Toby Thompson, and longtime neighborhood buddy, David Crego. For Bride’s maids, Joyce selected 4 good friends: Joyce’s roommate and close friend, Joan Greenlund, a longtime school and neighborhood friend, Jane Ushold, soon to be Toby Thompson’s wife, Janice Reycroft, and Joyce’s cousin, Margaret Edwards.
The service was short and sweet, and well attended. As I waited with the minister on the altar as Joyce and her Dad proceeded down the aisle I had all kinds of anxieties, not of the marriage itself, but the number of ways I could mess up in the next few minutes. We had a good friend who recently fainted dead away about the time the bride was half way down the aisle, or again the guy who dropped the ring that promptly rolled into the heater vent. But none of that happened and I managed to survive with minimal screw-ups, and Joyce looked stunning and her Dad looked proud. It was a lovely service ending as we exited the church, and drove to the reception site at the Edward’s house. (DIII-3) I can’t emphasize enough the effort Joyce’s Mom put into all these festivities. The house was of course spotless, and they secured a tent that was attached to the back patio and reached out into the back yard. It was no surprise then, to see her waiting for us on the front porch when we drove up. When we got out of the car, Dick (my best man) parked the car around the block to deter the pranksters. We were really ready to enjoy a few minutes with friends. Inside the door, the place was jumping, with Randy Edwards and Dave Crego providing the accompaniment. In the living room, a reception line was already forming in which we were principals (unfortunately). Included with us were our parents, the bride’s maids and ushers. For all the greetings and salutations offered, I don’t think anyone in line heard or understood a thing (unless it was a good friend). The old story about the guy who went through a wedding line saying only “my mother just died” and the responses he received were remarkable, such as “so nice to hear it”, or “what wonderful news”, etc. It wouldn’t surprise me if that were not really true.
The reception line was really the gateway to the end of the living room, and out to the patio and large tent attached that houses the drinks and goodies. The reception line finally concluded, and we had time to mill around and interact with the crowd which was quite substantial. That of course was fun but short lived when someone yelled it was time to cut the cake. This is standard procedure where the first cut of the cake is made by the bride and daintily presented to the husband for him to take the first bite. Now for some people, “dainty” is not part of their active vocabulary, but rather some archaic relic of the past as the next picture demonstrates. Now it’s time to go, so throw the flowers far and near, pack our bags and we are out of here. Although everyone was great, we both agreed it was an exercise that need not be repeated DIII-4). So it’s on to Canada.
One note before the wedding trip. As was mentioned, brother Dick parked our 1951 olive green 2-door Chevy around the block. He retrieved it and met us in front of the house in hysterics (laughing). Turns out my Dad also had an olive green 1951 Chevy but with 4 doors. The pranksters thought it was the “get-away” car and really did a number on it, including clanking tin cans, and various signs announcing just marriage spelled out in shaving cream. I wish I could have seen Pop’s expression when he came out and saw it. Fortunately, the honeymoon was long enough for him to get back to the norm.