Last Saturday, Ken and I attended our granddaughter Katelyn’s marriage to Sean. A flat tire was the beginning of their relationship and also brought my parents together. People and ceremonies have changed a lot through the years, but love hasn’t.
Eighty-five years ago, Alex was riding his horse when he saw Edith stopped by the side of the road with a flat tire and changed it. The farmer, who had graduated from a country grade school, was new to the neighborhood. The farmer’s daughter, an alumna of Durand High School, was a lifetime resident. In the midst of the Great Depression of the 1930s, they stood in the parlor of the Trinity Lutheran Church parsonage to exchange the traditional vows, “to have and to hold from this day forward for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish until death us do part.” Alex’s sister, Marion, and Edith’s cousin, “Spud”, were their witnesses. Afterward, the bride and groom waltzed at their wedding dance held in the Avon (Wisconsin) Town Hall. The Larison family, Alex’s shirt-tail relation, provided the music, Edith’s sister made the wedding cake and Alex’s family brought the rest of the lunch served to relatives and friends. Their marriage lasted until Alex died in 1976.
Sean and Katelyn were classmates at Elmhurst College when he changed her flat tire. They were also married during a traumatic time–the pandemic of 2020. There the similarities between the two couples end. Sean grew up in the Chicago suburbs. He works in the Human Resources Department of ALDI Grocery Stores. Katelyn was the fourth generation of her family to graduate from Durand High School. She is a prosecutor for the Winnebago County State’s Attorney’s Office. During their ceremony at Kilbuck Creek, a country retreat near Monroe Center, six couples stood beside the bride and groom. The pair followed the current custom and wrote their own vows. A deejay provided the music for the newlywed’s dance at the catered reception.
That first flat tire made the second one possible.
Has a small incident set the course for your life?
Love your observations. As an aside you were only about 4 miles from my house when you were at Kilbuck Creek & I live on the Creek just a little south on Hwy 72. Miss you
I miss you, too.