Love Is In The Air. . . .Sweet, Sweet, Love. . . .#6

I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes. It was still dark. I
heard soft sounds coming from the kitchen as mom went about
her early morning routine. They were familiar and comforting
sounds, signifying that all was right in my life. I smiled to my
self and then realized that mom was talking to someone. It
sounded like my sister, Theresa, but what was she doing here
in Panaca, she wasn't here when I went to bed a few hours ago.
Theresa! I sat up with such a jolt that Delores, who was sharing
the bed with me, tossed restlessly in her sleep. Then, I
remembered! Today, May 24, 1951, was my wedding day.
Today, I would marry my sweetheart, George Paul Wimsatt.
With my heart pounding and butterflies in my stomach, I tried
to relax as I thought back over the last few days.

It seemed that everything had happened so fast. When George
left for his Boot Camp at the naval Training Center in San Diego,
we had just renewed our romance. We had decided while
corresponding, that we would be married when he graduated
from Boot Camp and was home on leave. Knowing there would
only be a little over two months to prepare, I had been very
busy. With my mother and sister's help, I felt that we had
done a remarkable job with the preparations for the wedding
and George's baptism, which had taken place just two days ago.

My bishop was out of town and would not be returning before
George had to report back to The Naval Training Center, so we
asked Bishop Horlacher from Pioche, who was George's bishop,
to marry us. He was a good friend of my father and also was
the father of my sister Delores' boyfriend, Pete. George had
chosen Gino Choquer to be his Best Man and Delores was to
be my Maid of Honor. Our little nieces, Lois Marie Magleby and
Todd Ann Garrison, were to be our Flower Girls. Theresa had
made the little girls dresses and George's sister Margaret
would be here this morning with Todd so Theresa could make
sure her dress fit her properly. My wedding gown and veil
were pressed and hanging on the closet door. My sister,
Martha, would be here this morning to style my hair. I wanted
it to hang natural with soft curls and a fluffy bang.

We had decided on an outdoor wedding. Mom's best friend,
Rachael Free, lived just down the street from us on the corner
directly across from "the Castle". She had the most beautiful
yard in Panaca. It was a showcase of beautiful flowers, trees,
and shrubbery. It was a riot of color with flowers of all shapes
and hues blooming in wild profusion. She was delighted to open
her beautiful yard to us for our wedding. Her son, Darrel and
his wife Lena, had been helping her plant new flowers, replace
old ones, and trim shrubbery and trees. An arbor had been
built and laced with flowers.

Our wedding ceremony was to take place in the late afternoon
and the reception would then be held at the chapel in the
multi-purpose room. My family, with help from some of the
Panaca women, had decorated the room, and the foyer where
we would greet the guests, with armfulls of flowers that Mrs.
Free had let us cut. They made the room and tables look
beautiful. Refreshments were to be made, and served, by
the ward sisters.

Panaca could still be having chilly weather in May with a chance
of thundershowers, but the weather today was supposed to be
nice. I convinced myself that it would be foolish for me to worry
about an outdoor wedding with a chance of thundershowers. I
admit that was easier said than done.

Thinking about all of this, I decided we were ready. I lay there
for a little while reflecting on it and trying hard to calm myself.
I had to confess that I was nervous and wondered if George was
also feeling a little apprehensive. That thought made me smile,
as he had always impressed me as being an "unflappable" type
of guy. During our romance, there had been many times when
circumstances had put me into a frenzy and he had remained
so calm and cool that I wanted to pound on him. I think I was
secretly wanting him to be just a little nervous.

I snuggled back down and lay there for awhile until I heard
sounds signifing that mom was heating water to wash hair and
take baths. I decided I had better get up.

Things seemed to move along smoothly. "All too smoothly", I
found myself thinking. Margaret had arrived from Las Vegas.
Todd and Marie were the same age and size, and so her dress
was a perfect fit. They were adorable, two little blondes, Todd
with brown eyes and Marie with blue.

I washed my hair and took a bath. No mean feat since it was
all done in the kitchen, which was transformed into a bathroom,
in a #3 tub filled with steaming hot water and sitting on two
wooden chairs. This was perfectly normal to me, having bathed
and washed my hair in this manner my whole life. This, being
my day, I was privileged to use the facilities first, thus being
assured of having plenty of hot water. Some of the family had
already taken their baths, having gone to the Spring last night.
After I was through, I combed the tangles from my hair so it
would be dry when Martha was ready to perform her magic.

As we were leaving immediately after the reception to go to
Las Vegas, I needed to pack and be ready for our Honeymoon
trip. We were riding to Vegas with Margaret. She would drop
us at the El Cortez Hotel. While in high school, when we would
travel to Las Vegas for school trips, I would often gaze with
longing at this beautiful old hotel and dream of one day staying
there. That I was actually going to spend my wedding night
there was a dream come true! We would be there for two
days and then take the train to Los Angeles where George's
brother, Jack, would pick us up. They had converted a part
of their beautiful home into a private suite for us. We would
stay there for several days and spend some time at the beaches
and Knott's Berry Farm. Jack would then drive us to San Diego
for George to report back to the Naval Training Center and I
would take the train to Caliente.

Martha worked her magic with my hair. It fell to my shoulders
in soft, natural curls and my longish bangs were fluffy, just as I
had envisioned. She was quite proud of herself. Now there was
nothing left to do but wait until it was time to dress for the
wedding ceremony. It had been too easy, surely nothing could
go wrong now! Just before it was time to dress, Mrs. Free
called to say she had a vase of roses to be placed by the guest
book in the foyer. I was feeling antsy and decided to get the
flowers and walk them to the chapel, thinking the exercise
would calm my nerves. It only took a few minutes and I was
on my way home. I noticed the sun had momentarily dis-
appeared and looking up, I noticed two small black clouds
directly over me. I was a block from home when there was a
flash of lightening and a loud clap of thunder, and then those
two little clouds opened up and a deluge of rain poured down.
There was no place for me to go for shelter, so I sprinted like a
wild thing for home. The sun was already shining again as I
burst through the door.

I was soaked and all I could see was Martha's shocked face.
There was no time left and my beautiful hair was ruined.
What can you do when your wedding is a scant hour away?
We didn't have a hair dryer. We did have a curling iron if we
could dry my hair enought to use it. Martha was able to
put some soft curls back into my hair but my bangs just
seemed to hang limply in my eyes no matter how much she
teased them. With me in a tizzy, she decided to cut them
very short into what she described as "The bang that Ginger
Rogers had just made famous". It exposed a lot of forehead
and the ends barely turned under. "Just trust me, Ina" she
soothed, as I ranted and raved. I tried to relax. She, after
all, had been a model in Miami, Florida. She loved it, I wasn't
sure about it. "What a bride I will be with braces on my teeth
and a bare forehead showing below these famous Ginger
Rogers bangs!" Too late to worry, though, it was time to get
dressed. At least those two irritable clouds didn't rain on
Mrs. Free's garden, the bridal party and wedding guests
wouldn't get wet. As for me, it had just been a case of being
in the wrong place at the wrong time. Surely it wasn't an
omen of things to come? No, I was too happy!

Next up. . . .Our Wedding. . . .