I spent most of nineteen sixty eight excitedly and naively planning my wedding while continuing to take classes at the University of Houston. Because I was leaning with ever more certainty toward a career in education I had competed for and landed a position as a teachers’ aide at Eliot Elementary School in the Houston Independent School District. I hoped to get a better idea of the day to day life of a teacher by spending a semester there. It would also give me a small salary to add to the stipend that Mike would receive as a Teaching Assistant in the Sociology Department of the University of Houston while he continued studies for his graduate degree. In the meantime, he also planned to work with his uncle as an electrician’s helper during the summer where he would make much more meaningful money that he planned to save for our first year of married life. My friend Susan helped me land a job during the summer at Holiday Inn making reservations for travelers and earning far more money than I had ever before made.
Mike and I were full of dreams and ideas, thinking we had an ironclad plan to support ourselves. We were playing an adult’s game with little experience, but a great deal of unproven faith in each other. Little by little we moved forward with our audacious insistence on cementing our commitment to each other. We set our wedding date for October 4, 1968, the first of our real life experiences in compromise. I had wanted to get things settled before I went to work at Eliot Elementary, but an August nuptial did not work for Mike’s dad so we agreed to a Friday evening in October that would allow us to launch our life together with a weekend honeymoon in New Orleans before returning to the jobs to which we had committed ourselves for the fall season.
Step one was securing the church for the event, so we met with the pastor of Mt Carmel Church and signed up for Pre-Cana classes as well. The planning began in earnest. Soon we were picking out invitations, creating a guest list and choosing the members of the wedding party. My bridesmaids would be my cousin Ingrid, my good friend, Susan, whom I had known from my first days in Overbrook, and Nancy who was a high school buddy who often drove me to the University of Houston and had become a closer and closer friend. I had wanted Linda to be one of my bridesmaids as well but she was also planning her own wedding for December and we both agreed that it would be too difficult to balance so much at one time. Instead she and my long time friend Lynda Barry who had already married would be servers at the reception along with other high school friends, Claudia and Elke.
Mama and I spent much of the spring and summer reserving the Parish Hall for the reception, choosing the cakes, visiting with a florist and securing a photographer. I thought we would never find the perfect wedding gown but a trip to the downtown Foley’s led us to exactly what we had in mind. I also enjoyed shopping with my bridesmaids as they discussed what kind and color their dresses should be. It was a whirlwind of activity that kept me and Mike moving forward without thinking too much about the reality of what we were doing.
Soon the wedding showers came. Linda held a lingerie shower for me that was a blast. Mrs. Barry hosted an elegant luncheon that made me love her even more than I already did. My Aunt Polly insisted on having a bridal shower at her home and as usual she went all out in preparing food and games. Everyone was so generous with their encouragement and love. Somehow I knew that Mike and I would not be entering our new life without the support of the very caring people around us. My usual tendencies to become anxious about the future were sated by the outpouring of kindness that surrounded us.
Mike and I had to find a place to live so we began searching for an apartment. We had already created a budget that would keep us within the confines of the salaries we would be earning. There was little room for extravagance so finding reasonable housing was tantamount. We had to turn away from many places that appeared to be quite nice more than once. Just as we were beginning to wonder if we would ever find a rental that was within our means we stumbled upon a small project on Beatty Street just a few miles from the University of Houston where Mike would be working and we both would be taking classes. It would also be quite convenient for my travels to Eliot Elementary School. Best of all the one bedroom apartment was spacious and impeccably clean. The small group of people living there were quite friendly as well. For one hundred ten dollars each month we had a place to grow our love with all utilities paid. We had found a hidden jewel.
Looking back I can only imagine what my mother and Mike’s parents were thinking. I would still be only nineteen years old on our wedding day and Mike would be barely twenty one. My mother would have to sign a document giving her permission for me to marry. Both of us would be leaving our family homes to set out on our own. On the surface it all seems quite reckless when I think of it now, but back then we felt no hesitation whatsoever. The world seemed to be on the verge of cataclysm and we believed that we had no time to tarry in our resolve. Many of our best friends had already married and many more were engaged and planning their own weddings. It seemed to be the wise thing to do even as we understood the challenges that we might face. October 4, 1968, loomed large on our calendars. It would be the moment when we officially forged our union. Somehow we believed without reservation that we were on the right track. Only time would prove us right or wrong. We took a giant leap into the future.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 