PART I: SCENES AND STORIES FROM LINDEN, TEXAS, 1960-1968

Click to see: My Personal Saga / Spanish Club / Jr-Sr Banquet 1964 / Miss Linden Pageants 1963 & 1964

**A SPECIAL NOTE OF APPRECIATION TO LINDEN AND DON HENLEY**

After Bernie came into my life: Our first posed photos together / Our wedding and honeymoon

Our wedding and honeymoon

On January 27, 1968, Bernie and I were married in the Linden Methodist Church. There was absolutely nothing exceptional about it… except the fact that it took place at all. I’m happy to share a few photos from that day and our honeymoon in New Orleans.

▲ This pre-ceremony photo of Bernie and me with our families says a lot. My mother (next to me) as well as Bernie’s mother, brother, and sister all seem happy and relaxed. At best, my father (far left) looks resigned.

Even now, after all these years, whenever I look at these photos, it bugs me that neither I nor anybody else — especially the photographer! — noticed that Bernie’s blue vest was twisted off center. It shows up that way on almost all the photos of him from that day.

▲ This in-the-moment shot memorializes the pastor’s “You may now kiss the bride” announcement that we are husband and wife at last… as Maid of Honor Betty, who had been my congenial final roommate at Centenary, and Best Man Murray look on approvingly.

▼ After being assaulted with rice — for fertility!!! — on our way out of the building, Bernie and I scramble for shelter inside the Mustang, which friends have imaginatively decorated to accompany us as we make our escape back to Louisiana.

▲ In addition to “Just Married,” the painted slogans say “New Orleans or Bust!” and — in letters facing both inside and out — “Watch Shreveport Grow.” The latter slogan was popular at the time on the Shreveport-based TV stations that everyone in the region, including East Texas, watched. Ultimately, we did nothing to help Shreveport grow.

▼ You’ll notice that Bernie is grinnning broadly behind the steering wheel as I wave goodbye to friends and family. I don’t recall how or where we cleaned off all that writing, but we must have found a car wash somewhere not too far away, because it was really hard to see out in any direction. I’m not sure it would be legal to drive that way nowadays.

▲ Before the ceremony, brother Murray pins a boutonnière to the groom’s suit.

▲ My father and my dear friend Betty escort me around the outside of our church en route to the sanctuary. These days, I wonder why I bought a dress with a train, given that our wedding was to be a rather simple affair, but it turned out that many brides wore them that year. Just the fashion, I guess.

Note that this was late January… but it was also Texas, so the weather was balmy enough for Betty and me to be comfortable outdoors in short sleeves.

▲ After the ceremony, Bernie and I pose with our new wedding rings.

Looking at this shmaltzy photo from 1968, I have three thoughts. First, I wonder if this kind of image is as popular now as it was in the ’60s. Second, I wish my hands still looked like they did back then. And third, it reminds me of how greatly I miss seeing and holding Bernie’s hands.

▲ Here we are about to leave the church. Moments later, I tossed my bouquet backwards over my shoulder so one of the unmarried women in the room could catch it and — surprise! — be the next in line to catch a husband, too.

After that, Bernie and I scooted outside through a barrage of rice… both of us eager to get on with the project of building a life together.

Note the white gloves clutched in my hand as it wraps around Bernie’s elbow. They were beginning to feel old-fashioned even then, but most women still considered them an essential accessory at dressy events.

Honeymoon in New Orleans’s French Quarter

After we settled into the Bourbon Orleans hotel, Bernie and I had fun playing tourists for a week, even though he had lived there for years before moving to Shreveport. We took these two photos of each other in Lafayette Park. I was 21 then, and he was 29.

▼ Here’s my shot of Bernie with a flock of flamingos at the New Orleans Zoo.

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