Remember the old newspaper “society columns?” Well, I confess I feel as if that is what I have been writing. Within a 14-month period my nuclear family will have had four weddings. The last one (as far a I know) is scheduled July 31. Now, you tell me, what else can I write about?
The last one was absolutely over the top; no stone was left unturned to make it special. In fact, the bride, who has performed in dance since she was three years old and is of Scottish descent, used as a processional the old Shaker hymn, “Lord of the Dance,” performed by a kilted bagpiper. It is good news that the wedding and reception went so well. They more than offset the procession of travel problems that beset us getting there.
First, I picked up a nail in my tire by the time I got to Starkville en route to Jackson. I fortunately was able to pull off the highway at a place that could change it, but it could not be patched because of the location of the nail. Nor could I use the “donut” tire in the trunk, because I was more than 75 miles from my destination. The place where I stopped sold tires, but they did not have one. They had to send over to the other side of Starkville to get a replacement tire for me. That took a while, so that my normal less-than-three hour trip took six hours. I was glad I had not waited until Thursday to leave, because I was scheduled to be a hostess at an “early bird” wedding party Thursday evening. Had I waited a day, I would have missed my own party!
I was not the only one having difficulty. My Atlanta grandson needed to wait until after school to leave Friday. He could not be exempt from senior exams if he took a cut. He and his father elected to drive Friday night. Their alternator on the car went out. They were stranded on the side of the highway without lights until they could get help. Thank goodness for cell phones! They would have missed the rehearsal dinner anyway.
The worst I saved till last. It occurred for my daughter on her return to Atlanta in another car. (She had come to Jackson early.) While driving through Birmingham in heavy traffic, she had to get behind a semi-truck, an 18-wheeler. One of the truck’s rear right wheels fell off and plowed into the right side of Diana’s car, destroying that side of the car. Providentially, the driver’s side was not hit; otherwise, she might have been killed. The truck never even slowed down. I think that is tantamount to “hit and run.” Trying to keep her car on the road and get on a ramp, she was not able to get the tag number or the company name. But somewhere out there is a truck driver who should be feeling very guilty. You know he was aware of something like losing a whole wheel, even if semis have so many. A pox on him!
In spite of all the difficulties, I am glad to report the couple was happily married, the wedding properly and beautifully celebrated, and everyone survived.
Now our family has one more wedding in July. I pray it will be less eventful.
Betty Stone is a freelance writer who grew up in and lives in Columbus.
The Dispatch Editorial Board is made up of publisher Peter Imes, columnist Slim Smith, managing editor Zack Plair and senior newsroom staff.
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