Wedding From the Heavens.

My niece's wedding was scheduled for 5 pm at one of the most exclusive settings in southern New Hampshire, an outdoor ceremony tucked under beautiful oaks and maples, with lush, rolling lawns and sweet-smelling little gardens all around.

The weather forecasts were ominous, but the day progressed beautifully--and hopefully--until about 4 pm. Then, about the time most of the guests were climbing into their cars to get to the wedding, the dark clouds rolled over and the heavens opened up, sending down a deluge of huge, heavily splashing raindrops, darkening and drenching everything under the sky.

The staff inside the Bedford Village Inn scrambled to move the reception tables to make room for rows of chairs separated by a middle aisle, while an excellent chamber orchestra treated us to classical music on tender strings. Then, after only a brief delay, the groom, Bobby Condon, appeared and strode down the aisle with a folded umbrella, like a parade rifle propped on his shoulder, which inspired a huge round of cheers from the guests, followed by his best men, all with umbrellas at the ready.
The bride, Ellice St. Laurent, my brother's daughter, appeared moments later. The girl is beautiful in any clothing, but in her feminine white wedding dress and glowing smile, she dazzled the guests with good taste and composure. "Beautiful," was all they could say, all in agreement.
After heartfelt vows, the Best Man took the floor to deliver a monologue worthy of an HBO Comedy Special, full of warm memories of the bride and groom--and Maid of Honor Christel St. Laurent, the bride's sister, topped the champagne toast with a loving tribute that brought tears and cheers all over the room.
From there, as we enjoyed exotic appetizers and exceptionally rich buffets full of pasta variations, roast beef and finessed potatoes, the reception got under way with a rockin' deejay, the party fueled, no doubt, by the open bar--Yeah! Free booze!

Then, just as the celebration approached getting crazy with happiness, the heavens opened up again. Lightening flashed through the windows, thunder intruded and the power went out. No light. No music. Emergency spotlights flared as the crowd groaned. "Where's the bride," I worried, "What is she thinking?"

Not to worry. One of the groom's men shouted out and started a singalong with a familiar song, no doubt based on the lyric, "The day the music died," from American Pie. He never let it die, and the guests joined in   joyfully to sing several popular songs. Somehow, within about fifteen minutes, the Inn powered-up one circuit, enough to light the bar and resurrect the deejay and his speakers.
And the party rocked on.
The dance floor was full, and my old knees started to ache, but my girlfriend, Gayle, in a beautiful mauve gown, was hot to boogie, so I jumped in and I loved the celebration. Most inspiring was that I saw the bride still smiling and glowing, greeting admiring guests. If she had lost heart, broken down, it would have cast a pall over the room, but she beamed in her beautiful dress and inspired us.

Hey! As long as she's happy, we were happy. So, we danced and chased the bride and groom for more photos. Candlelight flickered everywhere and the candles migrated out to the patio where smokers took comfort in the dark, and the rain stopped.
Gayle and I finally went home, happy and exhausted, as all.

For great photos of this storybook wedding, see this link: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10151202216935239&set=a.10151202216865239.501354.514205238&type=1&theater