Teenage Wedding

My Wedding Day

Looking through an old album I found a photo of my wedding day.  Both bride and groom were all of 18 and thought we were young adults ready to go out in the world on our own.  We looked like skinny kids playing dress up.  We were from the old school:  'Virgins' in every sense of the word.  Growing up in near destitute families following The Great Depression, things had begun to turn for the better.  It was Spring, it was 1950 and anything was possible.
         
Fortunately, we had learned good work habits, young 'JD' began delivering the Progress Bulletin paper in Pomona Valley and as he grew took on many after school jobs.  In fact, he bought my engagement ring from money earned working in the citrus groves attending smudge-pots throughout freezing winter nights.  These young boys were given permission to stay home from school the following day to catch up on lost sleep.  Their faces were soot-black with watery-red eyes peeking out,  Looking a bit like some creature from a black and white horror film.
         
JD was working as an apprentice learning the mold making industry at CACO, Inc.  I was working for Dr Z learning to be a dental assistant.  Paychecks were minimal, but with a promise of more.  As was the custom in my senior year, 1949, any girl with any decent quality was officially engaged to be married before graduation.  From the local jewelers my gold engagement ring had a perfectly cut diamond  that sparkled when I held out my hand to my friends.  Of course, the diamond was of a very small size:  "Must be a real diamond, they don't make zircons that small," was my future brother-in-law's comment.
          
Having been brought up in St. Paul's Episcopal Church, wedding plans for a Spring wedding were well under way. Mother, who had married against parents wishes and no one in attendance, dreamed of my having a big wedding.  She was very sad that our family didn't have the money to pull it off.  So, I spent my savings on a fairy-tale wedding that meant lots of sewing to begin with.  A rainbow of pastel fabrics for my 6 maids-in-waiting, and yards of white embroidered sheer over satin for my gown.  Two of my maids sewed their own gowns from the same pattern.  My little sister was now 12 and old enough to be my maid-of-honor.
         
My fiance' located a flower grower who agreed to sell us hundreds of daisies which we dyed to match each maid's dress.  Baskets bought from Alvera Street in Los Angeles were filled with the daisies and carried rather than formal bouquets.  Mother sewed a lovely gown and cape of crepe-back satin of deepest blue and splurged on a lacy broad brim hat and gloves.  JD's mother created a deep rose crepe gown for herself with a stylish hat and gloves.  She had been a seamstress for City of Paris department store in San Francisco as a young lady.  The church was literally filled with friends and relatives from miles around as it was the first formal wedding for many of them.  My father's brother and family arrived from Idaho and mother's cousin's family from Colorado none of whom had ever seen the ocean, so this was to be just the beginning of a California vacation for them.
         
Wouldn't you know there is always a glitch.  Everyone rushed off to the church and left me behind at the house.  When they finally realized the wedding was about to start and the bride was missing, guess who was sent to bring me to the church?  You guessed it, JD and he was not a happy camper.  We really thought about calling the whole thing off, but decided it was a bit too late to back out.  The men of the wedding party were handsomely dressed in rented tuxedos and my maids were dressed and waiting. So I quickly changed into my wedding gown.  The Boy's Choir sang beautifully and my God Father, Charlie,  made sure everything went like clockwork.
         
The afternoon commenced with the typical reception of wedding cake, candy-coated almonds and fruit punch.  I changed into my going-away suit of navy blue with a perky hat and gloves. We drove away in JD's employer's car as our little Chevy coop sat at the curb adorned with tin cans and soaped windows announcing 'Just Married.'  Clever get-a-way?  Actually, the steering column had broken in our '37 Chevy and JD had towed it to the front of the church knowing it would keep his buddies busy. 

Where did we go?  After driving around for an hour or so, we drove to our newly refurbished, rented house.  Ate a sandwich and potato salad mother had made and after listening to the radio fell into bed absolutely exhausted.  We would have to try being married another day.  All our money was spent on a wedding.  At least we had jobs. And we wouldn't start a family for two more years.