A grand wedding


I was privileged Saturday night to attend a wedding that was more like a gala.

The father of the bride, Rick, and my son David, went to high school together and were each other’s best man at their respective weddings.

My daughter and I attended Rick’s wedding 35 years ago. Now I was going to his daughter’s wedding.

Rick and his wife both graduated from Georgia Tech. When it came time for his daughter to attend college, she was told that she could go anywhere she wanted as long as it was Georgia Tech.

The wedding was at a mansion on Peachtree Street and a hundred years ago, was one of over a dozen on “Mansion Row.” The Wimbish House, however, is the only one remaining. It was built by a prominent attorney, William A. Wimbish in1902.

He sold it in 1919 to the Atlanta Woman’s Club and that organization still owns it. Obviously it is the headquarters of the organization and is available for rent from weddings to bar mitzvahs.

There is a ballroom on the first floor that my first house would have fit in. There is a wide stage at the one end. Some of it was curtained off, more on that later.

The wedding was in the ballroom with probably 150 chairs set out. The bride and groom ceremony was on the front part of the stage and the Irish priest was delightful. He obviously enjoyed conducting weddings and several times made quiet comments to the bride and groom, I’m sure to release some of their anxiety. I don’t know what he said, but it seemed to work.

After the ceremony everyone went back upstairs for hors d’oeuvres and I have no idea what the hostess serving them called the item. I acknowledge my being slightly uncouth here, but I have no idea what she said, I never heard the word before. It was quite tasty, though, and I think it was a fish cake.

As we were were enjoying these, workers in the ball room removed all the chairs and set up probably 12 round tables complete with table cloths, and a salad on a plate that I’m sure had cost more that $9.99. As I reached for my glass of water, I flipped my knife on the floor. A server was walking by and said she would get me another one. She came right back with one on a plate! Being slightly embarrassed and not wanting to go through that again, I never reached for my water again. Oh, at dinner the backdrop had been taken down and a band was set up to play during dinner.

About this time, my friends are wondering how in the world I got from one floor to another, and I am happy to comply. I always went through the kitchen and took the service elevator.

By now, I was getting a bit exhausted and we skipped the cutting of the cake and the ballroom dancing and headed south with memories we will never forget.