Muriel's Wedding

New Year’s Eve at my house was a flurry of activity. As my family unpacked from our Christmas visit to New Jersey, we were simultaneously cleaning and preparing for my best friend’s impending visit the following day. Over the clatter of my husband vacuuming and my children cleaning up their Legos, I heard the phone ring.

“Hello?” I answered, trying not to sound as stressed as I felt.

“What a lovely greeting,” the voice on the other end replied. As I tried to place the unfamiliar male voice, he continued, ‘Is this the young woman who writes the weekly column in the Mariner?”

At age 47, anyone who calls me a “young woman” is an instant friend of mine (I so cherish those infrequent times people call me “miss” instead of ‘ma’am”).

I assured the voice that I was indeed that columnist and he introduced himself to me as “Dick” and then continued with the purpose of his call.

A frequent reader of my column, Dick was moved by the piece I had written earlier this year in honor of my father’s 80th birthday. “It seems these days that kids have little or no respect for their parents, “he declared, “and I thought the tribute to your father was very heartwarming.” I thanked him for his kind words.

He then proceeded to tell me a little bit about himself. He and his wife have lived in Hanover for 55 years. They married on New Year’s Eve in 1955, in the middle of a blizzard. Dick was a State Trooper at the time, living in the Weymouth barracks, and his fiancée, Muriel (“like the fine cigar”), lived in Canton. I could hear the pride and love in his voice as he spoke of his bride of 55 years, who was, among many other things, a national champion roller skater. He told me about taking Muriel out for roast duck on New Year’s Eve at The Alamo. He spoke of their three children, who all went through the Hanover school system, and his two grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.

Dick then shared with me the story of his wedding. He and Muriel decided on a quiet ceremony at the home of Reverend Sewell, former pastor of the First Congregational Church in Hanover, with a few friends attending as witnesses. They agreed to meet at Reverend Sewell’s home, which at the time was on the corner of Pine and Union Street, at 8 p.m. on New Year’s Eve.

Apparently, signals got crossed (as so often happens with newlyweds) because Dick went to the home that he and Muriel had purchased on Plain Street instead. I can only imagine his state of mind as the minutes ticked by, thinking that his bride had stood him up.

At nine o’clock, Dick decided he had waited enough, and headed out into the blizzard with no real destination in mind. He got as far as the DPW before he was stopped by the two town police officers. They convinced him to forgo his trip in the swirling snow, stuffed him in the back of their cruiser, and brought him straight to the Reverend Sewell’s home, where Muriel was waiting.

Apparently, after several moments of conversation with Muriel, the wedding proceeded, with friends and the Hanover Police standing up for the bride and groom. Dick said, “I don’t remember a thing the Reverend said, but I do remember saying ‘I do’”. He also recalled feeling embarrassed about the puddle of water which was pooling around everyone’s snowy boots on the Reverend’s floor. Somehow the media got wind of the story and several days later the Patriot Ledger ran a story about a…” State Trooper arrested by Hanover Police and driven to his own shotgun wedding…”

55 years later, Dick and Muriel Jennings are still happily married and now living on Main Street. Dick asked if I could put something in my column this week to wish his lovely bride a very happy anniversary. I can think of no better way to honor his request than to relay our wonderful conversation to all of my readers.

So here’s to you, Dick and Muriel. May you have many more happy years together and may the story of your wedding and marriage inspire the rest of us for years to come!