Memories of a Wedding Guest

By K.B. BENNETT

Even for a seasoned traveler the thought of coming to Martha's Vineyard can be exciting. The Island holds a certain mystery, and the fact that it is accessible only by boat or plane gave me the feeling that I was working for something, offering a commitment of my time for the reward of whatever I would find upon arrival. It seemed the perfect place to travel for a wedding.

The ferry ride from Woods Hole might be a commonplace commute for Vineyarders, but for guests and first-time visitors it is the beginning of the Island experience. Just the act of walking up the gangway takes concentration - when that first wave of ocean air pushes against the senses, urging the visitor to get up on deck, and quickly, because once there the source of that wave is going to reveal itself. Water and sunlight and the bustle of other passengers; children leaning over the rails at exactly the same moment as a parent's warning, the excited retriever puppy and the seasoned yellow Lab. The slow, beautiful ride to the Island builds the sense of anticipation.

When the ferry docks, the anticipation is only momentarily put on hold while the necessary arrangements are made: baggage, transportation, accommodation. As I walked to the taxi I scanned the crowd, hoping to recognize other guests who were making the journey to the Island for my friend's wedding. No luck, but finding a taxi was easy and to make matters even better, the taxi was actually a van filled with three friendly passengers and a gregarious driver. One of the passengers lived on-Island and invited us to tea. The driver had to decline, but the rest of us accepted. An hour or so later, after an enjoyable tea, we went our separate ways, but this first exposure to Island hospitality established the tone for me.

That night, the wedding party and guests met at a pub in Oak Bluffs. It was a singularly perfect evening. The bride-to-be looked elated and gorgeous; her fiancé smiled and seemed charmingly proprietary. The reunion with old friends blended seamlessly with the introduction of new ones, and while those of us from off-Island were unanimously overdressed, no one seemed to mind and the dancing and laughing went on into the night.

Luckily, no one was late for the wedding the next day. A group of guests staying in Oak Bluffs met at one of the hotels in the late morning, and another taxi-van delivered us, smiling and excited, to the Congregational church in West Tisbury. There was much speculation during the drive as to what the bride would wear. She is stunning, and expectations were high. We were not disappointed.

The guests gathered in small groups on the front lawn of the church, talked quietly and made the acquaintance of newcomers. The September air was cool but the sun was warm, and people were taken with both the weather and the elegant quaintness of the church. Gradually, we filed in and sat in the smooth wooden pews, getting comfortable and telling stories of our friends who were about to be married. There was a real sense of togetherness and hope, which I believe we all felt. It was an extraordinary moment.

The bride and her father entered the hushed church; smiles were exchanged and hands squeezed at the sight of our beautiful friend in her wedding dress. The dress interpreted her personality perfectly: understated, elegant, smart. We watched, along with her soon-to-be husband, as she gracefully stepped down the aisle. Indeed, we were all enchanted.

When the service ended, we again mingled in front of the church. A violinist and a flutist began to play, and after a short time led us down the quiet street to the Grange Hall for the reception. Regal trees shaded our path, and the short walk added another ethereal touch to the morning. The reception hall was bursting with the signs of autumn; deep fall colors and a bountiful harvest. The guests easily found their seats after being served chowder and hors d'oeuvres.

The reception was a true celebration. The bride's father and brother gave funny, memorable toasts, and the bride's mother wore a most fabulous pair of shoes that I shall not soon forget. I still covet them. Dancing and feasting, laughing and hugging; tying on lobster bibs and holding champagne glasses high to toast our sweet friends. Old and young danced, there were flirtations and photographs, and gifts for each of the guests - antique copies of the Harvard Classics placed on each table.

Why did it have to end? Well, it hasn't actually. The happy couple and I spent some time together over Christmas - right here on Martha's Vineyard, because I live here now. And I'm very careful not to let that ferry ride become commonplace.

Originally published on January 26, 2001