The Wedding Story that won’t go away

Last night I was watching the Monday Night Football game featuring the Atlanta Falcons beating the 2004 NFC Champion Philadelphia Eagles. They didn’t beat them with trickery or luck. The Falcons scored enough points and their defense beat the ever-loving shit out of Donovan McNabb while a second year 5’10” cornerback covered Terrell Owens like a blanket, allowing him some catches for over 100 yards, but the only time TO smelled the end zone is after he was pushed down in it without the ball.

Anyway, late in the first half, former Atlanta Hawks coach Hubie Brown was brought into the booth with Madden and Michaels, and my phone rang. It was our Catholic-American friends the Z’s, and they were watching the same thing and it made them laugh, so they called to tell me that they were laughing and thinking of us.

What could possibly prompt a Catho-American couple to laugh at 10:16pm to the point that they had to call someone and tell them about it?

Let me tell you a story:

It was 1986. I was 17, had just graduated high school and was dating this great girl. She was two years younger than me, but she was great. We went to the prom together, I gave her my class ring, blah blah blah. (I guess I shouldn’t blah blah too much since she became my wife, but you know what I mean).

So, we had been dating for a little while when she asked me if I wanted to go to her older sister’s wedding. I figured “sure…why not? Free food and an open bar to sneak drinks from? Count me in!!”

Well, I said yes before I knew the whole deal. It was a big wedding to be held at a very big local Catholic church, and the reception was to be held at a prestigious local country club (for fun, let’s call it Bushwood).

I had a fabulous $100 suit, which was on its last legs since I had grown since Christmas, but I figured it’d get me thru the day. Come to think of it, I think that’s about how much I paid for the one suit that I own now.

I didn’t really have any responsibilities for the wedding proper other than just getting dressed, showing up on time to pick up my date to get her to the church for photos, and then to pretty much sit around and not look bored out of my mind, which of course I was.

One sidenote here. My date’s mom asked me if I could pick up her family from Pittsburgh at the airport. And I said sure. The flight got in a little before 4pm and it was June 20th, and was approximately a billion degrees Kelvin outside.

At the time, I was driving my kickass 1976 custom Chevy van. It was figuratively cool, but it was literally it was a fucking oven. The air conditioning compressor had been destroyed in an accident, and since replacing it would cost more than the van was worth, I didn’t worry about it. Of course, I hadn’t planned on fetching aunt Cathy, Uncle Eddie, Mike, Dave, Mark and Scott, in addition to Molly’s grandfather, who was 84 at the time.

We loaded all nine of us (plus seven people’s luggage) into the van and headed into Atlanta’s Friday rush hour traffic. It was then I realized that there might be trouble. If I were to guess, I’d say it was about 90ish outside, which means it was 2,400 degrees inside.

No one complained (except me) and we finally got the family delivered to my date’s house. To this day, the boys talk about that awesome airport trip.

Fast forward to the big day. I had only been to Catholic church once in my life, and it was with my friend Timmy Shields who said I should take communion with him, but he didn’t teach me the codeword or the secret handshake, so when I got up there, I might as well have been holding my dick in my hand to deserve the look I got from the priest. He reluctantly gave me communion, but I’m pretty sure he put a curse on me that day.

I got my date to the church in plenty of time. Then, it was a whole lot of sitting around and realizing that, outside of my date, , the bride, the groom, the groom’s brother, the bride’s mom and the family I picked up at the airport, I didn’t know a soul at this wedding.

Looking from the altar, the Church is setup in a fan shape, so I piled way WAY into the back right about five or so rows from the lobby and plopped right in the middle of a row, figuring no one would sit near me and that, as long as I didn’t snore, I would be left alone.

I then noticed that folks not only entered from the main door but also an auxiliary door over my left shoulder. After a while, I got tired of turning to look at who was coming in since I didn’t know anyone anyway, so I just stopped and resumed writing cuss words on the little cards in the back of the pew in front of me and slipping them into the hymnals as the church continued to fill…

While distracted by my imagination and the teeny pencil they give you, I heard the door behind me open and shut, and then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman around my mom’s age or so and she was falling.

Without thinking, I let my superhero senses and catlike reflexes take over. I stood up, took two big steps to my left and dove, just catching the falling damsel by her right arm. As I did so, I looked to her left. Astoundingly, there was a man, apparently with her, and he was doing nothing to help her. In fact, he was falling too.

Only he wasn’t falling. He was genuflecting. And it wasn’t just some guy. It was former Atlanta Hawks head coach and then New York Knicks head coach and now NBA Hall Of Fame coach Hubie Brown!!

What is going on here?

Coach Brown and his wife stood up, had a little chuckle amongst themselves and continued on to their seats, acting more or less as if nothing had happened.

I thought to myself “Okay, that was a little awkward, but I think the damage is minimal. Let’s just chill out, ride this wedding out and get to the reception for some crab pastries, chicken fingers and free beer.”

Only that last part never happened. Why? I’ll tell you why. Everywhere I turned was Hubie Brown (local celebrity and longtime close personal friend of the bride’s family) reaching out and putting an arm around me with a beer in his free hand and a circle of people around him, and then saying “come on young man…tell these folks how you saved my wife’s life today while she was genuflecting!”

Hardy freaking har.

I later married my date from that wedding and we’ve been married for over 13 years now and together nearly 20. And almost every year since, I’ve been at my mother in law’s house on Christmas day and answered the phone and found Claire Brown on the other end, and quickly and invariably the conversation would turn to that special day when I saved her life.

I’m glad I provided the parties involved with a story that would sustain them thru tough times, and I’m glad that I’ve been able to share it with you.

Let me give you some advice. If you ever see a woman out of the corner of your eye and she’s falling in church, let her hit the ground. That way YOU’LL have the funny story about her and not the other way around.

(Just kidding, Claire. I wouldn’t trade that moment for anything).