Nine thousand one hundred thirty one days ago, two people of different faiths dared to get married. And here we are, twenty-five years later, still mixing it up. I think it’s a miracle.
Here we are beneath our Jewish chuppah, with our Presbyterian minister, having a half-Jewish, half-Presbyterian, half American wedding.
|Stomping on the glass! Mazel Tov!|
|Finalizing the wedding, just before cutting the cake.|
I think tradition says that a Jewish wedding is finalized by stomping on a glass (it beats me why). Maybe a Presbyterian wedding is sealed with the exchange of the rings (it beats me why). But I considered that our wedding was complete when the minister, acting on behalf of The State, signed our marriage license. (I didn't think about it then, but it's just weird that a religious leader acts on behalf of the state for this one function.)
|Hi, all you wonderful people. Thank you for participating|
in our wedding, lo those many years ago!
Thanks for wearing The Green Dress and The Rented Tux!
When we decided to get married, we were living in New York and Connecticut. We asked my parents to find a place in Baltimore for our wedding – a place with a worshipful atmosphere, preferably with a pipe organ, but not overtly Christian. In a few days my Dad reported back to us that he had found the perfect place. It was not a church, had no obvious Christian symbols, but was a solemn worshipful atmosphere, and had an organ. The place? - the Levinson Funeral Home.
We got married at the chapel at Goucher College, in Towson, Maryland, thankyouverymuch.
|My, what big eyeglasses we had back then.|
One reason our 25th anniversary is a miracle is that at our wedding reception we survived the Jewish celebratory custom of having people lift you up on a chair and then dance around while holding you up in the air. We hoped that these people had been lifting weights for several months before attempting this.