Suzanne s Slave part IV My Wedding Day
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As we approached the cathedral — it’s only a few very short blocks away from the Waldorf-Astoria — we encountered a veritable army of police directing traffic and keeping order. The music we had been hearing wasn’t helping a whole lot; it was attracting passers-by by the hundreds. As we reached the church, two more busloads of police were arriving to assist.
All I could think of was it was a very good thing that both the Taylors and ourselves enjoyed such good relations with New York’s Finest. We certainly drew down our store of good will that day.
I accompanied Steve Chamberlain to the front of the cathedral, along with the other grooms and best men. The remainder of the wedding party — the not-so-small army — continued on to the main entrance on Fifth Avenue.
And the magnificent orchestra continued playing incidental music, but of course there was no orchestra in sight. The clergy, led by the Cardinal Archbishop of New York himself, came out on the altar. It was time for the service to begin.
There was a symphonic fanfare announcing the wedding procession. Looking back into the great church, my only thought was that it was a good thing Saint Patrick’s is as large as it is. Initially, Mom and Andy Taylor had been thinking of using a small chapel so the guests wouldn’t be lost, but when they reviewed their combined invitation lists, they decided that the full cathedral might not be too large. In the event, it was barely large enough.
The bridesmaids, and maids (and matrons) of honor came down the main aisle. It was utterly magnificent if I do say so myself. Then came the two Fitzpatrick boys carrying the rings on small pillows, followed at a suitable distance by Kristin Kramer and Karen Christian, the four-year-old “twins.” The two little girls drew audible gasps from the guests with their joy and incredible beauty. Needless to say, I had heard all about them from Little Bit and Ann, and they far more than lived up to their advance billing.
Finally, the brides appeared. First came Caitie Fitzpatrick on her father’s arm. Then Little Bit with Brad Kramer, followed by Ann with Bill Christian. Finally, it was sister Diane accompanied by Dad. Never have I seen a girl look as gorgeous as Diane did that day. In light of the torture she had undergone it was only right.
The Cardinal began the celebration of the Nuptial Mass. It proceeded in a more or less normal fashion — normal that is, except for the invisible choir — until the Alleluia. Instead of the normal verse, we heard the most magnificent rendition ever heard of The Alleluia Chorus from Handel’s “Messiah”. (Later we learned that the chorus was under the personal direction of the arranger of the most popular version, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart himself.) The cathedral rocked, and I later learned that it could be heard almost a mile away.
The Mass proceeded until it was time for the marriages themselves. Then things changed ... dramatically! Rather than the Cardinal going to the couples, he took a seat on the side. I had no idea what was going on.
At that point, a golden cylinder almost seven feet tall appeared before us. A Voice, easily heard without amplification throughout the great church began, “Greetings and welcome! We are gathered here today to join in wedlock four loving couples. And I am here because one of the women being wed is The Littlest Angel, Caitlin Fitzpatrick.
“Frankly, this is an event I have been looking forward to for some time.
“However, before proceeding, there is one thing I must do that’s not a part of this ceremony. Would Jennifer Clark please rise?”
I was stunned. And looking around, I was far from the only one. Everyone else present was, too.
Jenny was sitting just a few rows back surrounded by Kramer and Christian children. They all looked on her lovingly as she rose to her feet.
The Voice continued, “It is only right and just that Jennifer be seated among her family. All of the children you see around her — and four of the young people being married here today — call her Aunt Jenny. You see, this woman was forced to sell body parts, including her left lung in order to live. And there’s a story circulating that’s widely believed: That story is that when Jenny Clark lost her lung, her heart grew in size to fill the void.
“That isn’t true, of course, but the love in this woman is virtually limitless. While she could have been embittered by her loss, instead she has lavished her love over everyone with whom she has had contact. To 20 children — now 22, in fact — she’s Aunt Jenny. But to hundreds of others she has turned their lives around. Because of this, Jenny Clark, you are now restored to physical perfection to match the perfection of your soul.” The Voice paused and then continued, “Jenny, please take a deep breath ... but be careful!”
She did, and she almost fainted.
“Whoops!” the Voice exclaimed. “That was the result of taking in double the amount of oxygen you’re used to getting. But I’m certain you will learn to live with it.
Jo
- 31.03.2020
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