It was June 14, 1980. It was just a month after Mount St. Helens erupted and showered our little town (and most of the northwest) with ash. Doing all of the last minute preparations required going out in the stuff and Larry washed the car almost every day to keep the debris from eating the paint.
We got married in the small hometown where we lived, Whitehall, Montana. In the morning of course, as we were sharing the church that day and there was an evening wedding scheduled as well. Besides that, we are cheap and it meant no food, except cake and punch. No band or any of the other things we didn’t think we needed and didn’t want to pay for. The whole morning thing is important to the story.
We had ordered the tuxedos for all of the guys in the wedding party from the same bridal shop that I bought my dress. They were coming in from Kansas City on the Greyhound bus. They were supposed to be delivered on Tuesday, then Thursday, then Friday. Come Friday at closing time, still no tuxedos. The bridal shop gave us permission to search for the packages at the Greyhound bus terminal in Butte, about 30 miles to the west. Long story short, but we were up until 3 am, search the cargo holds of every Greyhound bus coming in from Kansas City. Oh, and no tuxes. But wait, we’re getting married in 7 hours!
So we got a few hours of sleep, then proceeded to look at each of the groomsmen (who all came from somewhere else and did not anticipate needing dress up clothes). Larry looked at each groomsman and matched him by size to a friend who lived locally. Then he started calling those friends (early on Saturday morning)… “hey, can we borrow a suit?”. The amazing thing is that they are all still friends to this day.
The biggest issue was my nephew and ring bearer, Paul. His three year old self was expecting new clothes and was melting down, so my sister ran out to the local department store and bought him a new outfit. And after all this, the wedding only started about 20 minutes late.
And now, the rest of the story… after the wedding and reception and running on literally four hours sleep, we leave for Glacier Park on our honeymoon, we got about 25 miles down the road before Larry fell asleep at the wheel and promptly drove our little Honda Civic into the swamp. Luckily, my brother and sister-in-law were down the road at her parent’s ranch and came to our rescue. Wedding dinner in Butte with them, some time at the carnival (yes the carnival!), we spent the night at a local hotel. Oh vey! It only took us 37 years to get to Glacier!
