Wedding Picture, 1987

     In response to popular demand (well, okay just one request; but still…) I am going to tell the story of our ‘surprise wedding.’  It took place at the 3^rd Annual Oysterville Croquet and Champagne Gala, an event that Nyel and I hosted for a total of nineteen years.  The story of how those galas began has everything to do with how we happened to marry, but it’s a story for another time.  For the wedding story, I’ll just cut to the chase.
     Each year’s Gala was given as a fund-raiser for a local non-profit organization.  It occurred in the garden of my family’s house (now the house where we live) in Oysterville on the first Sunday after Labor Day each year.  Guests paid an entrance fee – at first $10 per person; later $20 – which entitled them to all the champagne and finger foods they could drink and eat plus a game or two of croquet and a chance at a very corny loving cup type trophy (which lived for years in the far corner of the Heron and Beaver Pub at the Shelburne.)
     Jack’s Country Store donated the champagne.  The recipient organization made the appetizers.  Nyel and I sent out the invitations, set up the courts, provided the judges, and registered the players.  My Uncle Willard served as Master of Ceremonies.  Oh, and did I say that it was all a bit zany?
     According to the instructions to players: These rules are not recognized by the U.S. National Croquet Association or anyone else except the Oysterville Croquet and Champagne Committee, which hereby reserves all rights and takes all credit for the uniqueness of the event.  The object of the game is for a team of six players to get all of their members’ balls through all 64 wickets in less than 15 minutes.  Best score over the years – 6 minutes, 53 seconds in 1992 by The Contenders, a team of friends from Portland.
     And “the look” was elegant and dignified… but not always.  Victorian lace, long white dresses, parasols and boaters, seersucker jackets and white flannel trousers were all considered de rigueur.  But, over the years we also saw a woman come in jodhpurs, carrying a riding crop and galloping everywhere she went.  And the year we did it for the Genealogy Society, an entire team wore gorilla masks.  Not only the rules were zany!
     In 1987, the non-profit recipient was the Water Music Festival.  A few weeks beforehand, Nyel and I were having a serious discussion about finances – our own, personal finances – and someway or other it segued into a decision to marry.  We didn’t want any fuss or bother and certainly no gifts and we suddenly thought, “Aha!”
     We’d get married at the Croquet Gala and tell no one ahead of time except the judge and our two witnesses. All three of them had already paid their entrance fees; we just had to ask their cooperation, swear them to secrecy, and in Judge Penoyar’s case, ask if he would prepare the appropriate paper work.
     After all, we thought.  Our friends have all been invited.  The champagne is all but on ice.  We have our costumes – me in white, Nyel in a cutaway.  Good to go.  I did call my son in L.A. who was not planning to come for croquet, but did drop everything to come to the wedding.
     It all came off perfectly.  Gordon Schoewe and Roy Gustafson stood up for us and Gordon even brought me a nosegay to carry.  We waited until the Award Ceremony was about to begin.  The crowd had gathered and Gordon interrupted (with difficulty!) Willard’s speech.   He said, “Sydney and Nyel want to thank everyone for coming and for contributing to this glorious day and wonderful cause.  They are so appreciative in fact, that they want to invite you all to their wedding…  (a pause and laughter among the listeners) …which will happen right now.”
     Up stepped Joel, book in hand, and the ceremony began.  I could hear the murmur going through the crowd.  “What’s going on?”  “Isn’t that Judge Penoyar?”  “Is this for real?”  “They’re getting married!”  “They really are!”
     My mother went all teary.  My dad found a bottle of bourbon and poured himself and Nyel a “real” drink.  I gave my bouquet to Michelle Kischner who had been on the kids’ team and who was in my first/second/third grade class.  She asked if she could take it to Show and Tell the following day and would I please not tell the kids my new name until after she had shared?
     It was definitely a day to remember.  We’re thinking of doing one more Croquet Gala for our 25^th …