Our Wedding Day

On Tuesday morning, June 15, 2010, we dressed in our kilts and traveled to the Old Quaker Meeting House in Adams, Massachusetts.

The Meeting House was active from 1782 to 1842. Among its members was Susan B. Anthony, who was born in the area and who worshipped there as a child.

The kind folks at the Adams Historical Society opened the doors for us. The Meeting House is no longer an active meeting but opens for visitors during regular hours in the summer and by appointment . We are grateful to them for letting us have our own private meeting for worship on this occasion.

In the presence of the Light, we said our vows and became man and wife at exactly twelve o'clock noon.

After we signed the guest book in the meeting house, we drove to the top of Mt. Greylock for lunch. Mt. Greylock is on the Appalacian Trail. So yeah, it's true. We started our honeymoon by hiking the Appalacian Trail.

The pensive look on my face is me trying to keep my kilt from flying up. It was really windy up there.

The following day, we drive to Mohonk Mountain House. The resort was founded by Quakers and E's grandfather was the house doctor at the resort during the summer in the forties. It holds a very special place in our hearts.

We walk through the magnificent grounds and surrounding mountains and forest before chaninging for dinner.

Our finery is well-received in the dining room.

On Thursday, on our way to the Boston airport for the trip home, we have dinner with Verne and Kiki Henderson in Brookline. Verne was a classmate of E's mother at Olney Friends School in Barnesville, Ohio. The conversation and the wine are both delightful. As Verne is an ordained minister and he signs our marriage certificate to make things absolutely legal.

Quaker Meeting...and a surprise of Rockwellian proportions

It's Sunday and we look forward to attending Quaker meeting at South Berkshire Friends Meeting in Great Barrington. The meetinghouse (which we passed the day before on our continued trek to become lost as much as possible) is set on a wooded piece of land that includes a pond with a beaver lodge. We can't quite place what that deep moaning sound is (see Day Seven). The South Berkshire Friends give us a warm welcome and invite us to their potluck, even though we didn't bring anything. We talk about our families and Elisabeth shares that her grandmother's family came from Richmond, Indiana and her grandfather's from Moorestown, NJ. Really? Says a gentleman named Larry Tuttle. My family is from Moorestown. Mine are Richies and Robertes, says E. Oh, I've got Robertes all the way back, Larry says. A few more connections later and they find they are second cousins. How nice!

 We, of course, ask for a good breakfast place and they, without hesitation, send us to Martin's. We always want to know where the locals eat. Sitting over our pancakes, we can imagine living here. Of course, it is June and there is no snow. Michael often chides Elisabeth for falling in love with towns while visiting in fair weather.

Another outstanding reason to visit the Berkshires--the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge. Even though it is late in the day, we ask the lady at the counter if we can see everything in 3 hours. Oh my yes, she says. We remain skeptical--we are the folks who did, after all, once spend no less than six hours at the Civil War Museum at the Tredeger Iron Works in Richmond, Virginia.

The lady recommends we start in the basement--that's where all the Boy's Life, Look and of course Saturday Evening Post magazine covers are. But our focus is diverted almost immediately to the original oil of "Marriage License" hanging just inside the first gallery. The colors are even more remarkable here--the yellow of the girl's dress, the rich wood of the walls, the light coming in through the window and how did Rockwell get that blend of light and dirty dust on the floor? Then we both stop stone still and we both take a quick breath in at the same time. The date on the calendar in Rockwell's painting is June 11--the same day we applied for our marriage license. What a smile!

The cover room is indeed a don't-miss. We're lucky the summer season hasn't fully hit yet and we only have to climb over a few people to get close to the art. It's just not a museum where you can sit on a soft bench a distance away from the paintings to get an appreciation. You've got to get close because it's all about the detail, of course. The only place where that isn't true is the small rotunda where the Four Freedoms are, and there's a comfortable round bench there so you can spend as much time as you like.

In Lenox, we have trouble finding a restaurant that looks even remotely affordable.  We settle on the venerable Rumplestiltskin's or Rumpy's as the summer theatre and concert crowd affectionately calls it. The locals are all talking about James Taylor and Carole King, who will start the Tanglewood season in another week before the Boston Symphony gets rolling.

Even though the summer season is week off, it is the Berkshires and we need a theatre fix so we head over to Shakespeare and Co. for an intern production of Julius Caesar. Well-done with a six-actor cast in a black box space. It's fun seeing a woman play Casca.

Brewster

Sleeping in...good...

Unfortunately, sleeping in also means that nobody is serving breakfast anymore. Already, this is yet another vacation that is orbiting around the orb of food. Time to shift priorities. Even though it's almost noon, we decide to head for Brewster, New York. It's only a two hour drive away. Brewster is where Elisabeth's mom was born and grew up. E's grandfather was Dr. Elisha Roberts Richie, a country doctor who had his office in a small annex of Yeomanoak, that large family home. There, he and E's grandmother Dorothy raised five children--Don and Bob (from ERR's first marriage--he was widowed when he began courting Dorothy) and Jane, Doug and Beth. So off we go to Brewster.

Before we leave Massachusetts, we have lunch at the Barrington Brewery in Great Barrington. It's the country's only solar-powered brewery so of course, Michael has heard of it. We buy a bottle of ale for later.

In hindsight, perhaps we should have cracked the bottle sooner because we are about to experience what road construction on one little bridge over the Housatonic River can do to a fairly straightforward drive through Connecticut. We dutifully follow the detour signs and Kate just about has a seizure. Between Kate's clipped British "GPS signal lost" (lots of overhanging trees) and "recalculating route" remarks, the roadway signage, Elisabeth's pretty-darn-good-but-not-infallible sense of direction and Michael's steadfast belief in, well, all of the above, we wander for well over two hours before we land on anything remotely resembling a highway that leads to the Hudson Valley. Pretty houses though.

Elisabeth is not used to coming into Brewster from this angle and the first phone call to Beth ensues. Now, Mom is getting up in years and her memory isn't always the greatest but she is a firecracker when asked to recall details of her childhood. "Have you come to the reservoir yet?" she asks. We have. "Well, turn back." OK.

Milltown Cemetary is on a peaceful road east of the village of Brewster. We have no difficulty finding the Richie family plot. ERR was an enthusiastic golfer and the plot is marked by a very large rock that was excavated from the local golf course and moved to Milltown when he passed away. The word RICHIE stands out from the rock in brass letters. It's supposed to, at any rate. The last two times Elisabeth has visited one of the letters has been missing. This time, it's the E. We'll call Uncle Doug to take care of this with the groundskeeper. ERR is buried there with his wives Anna and Dorothy on either side of him. Their son Theodore Hill Richie is there too. Dodie died of menangitis when he was three, before Beth was born. There is a picture of him on the wall in Beth's home today--large soft brown Richie eyes. We spend some time sitting at the plot, grateful for the opportunity for Michael to connect, and meet the spirit of the man whose wedding ring he now wears.

Forgive the blurriness--it was dusk and I really wanted to shoot it without a flash.

Another call to Beth as we head towards the village, not just for directions but to share with her how the town looks and feels in this nice June twilight. Brady-Stannard auto dealership still busy. Train just pulled in to the station from NYC. We start to feel a lot like the Stage Manager in Our Town. "11 o'clock in Grover's Corners...you get a good rest too."

Yeomanoak looks pretty good. It's had a checkered past. After the family left in the mid 50s for California, the house was subdivided into apartments and when E last visited, it was ramshackle to put it nicely. Tonight, it stands with signs of recent renovation. The porch over the entyway has been enclosed--an architectural highlight falling victim to the need of a landlord to add another unit. Grandmother's garden is now extra parking for the adjoining church. But the clapboard siding is new and very white. We chat with some tenants sitting on the back porch. They don't know that the oak in their front yard was there when the pilgrims landed.

Walking back down the driveway, Michael sees fireflies for the first time. For a lighting technician, this is revelatory. It's like he didn't really believe they existed.

Gratefully, the forecast rain has held off as we leave Brewster. Taking no chances with detours, we head for the Taconic Parkway to take us back up to the MA Thruway. Not so gratefully, that's when the skies open up. We always ruffle slightly when Easterners and Midwesterners call Californians weather wimps. But we own that title tonight. Lightning, thunder and a sheet of white rain is too much for us and we pull off to wait for the worst of it to pass. When it does, and we finally open the car windows, the air is thick with frog croaks all around us. Must be way cool to be a frog on a night like this.

We congratulate ourselves on surviving our very own Weather Channel doumentary with a stop at Price Chopper for Ben and Jerry's. Eat local, that's what we always say.

Kate, take us to the Berkshires

The real excitement starts the next morning--sleeping in and the Cracker Barrel for breakfast, even if it means driving ten miles out of our way. One of the very best things about traveling back East is the Cracker Barrel. We love the Cracker Barrel. In Orlando for LDI? Cracker Barrel. Trekkng Civil War battlefields? Cracker Barrel. Getting married in the Berkshires? Cracker Barrel! As a company, their human rights record has been dreary but they've made positive changes recently so we are happy to reward them by digesting their buttermilk biscuits, warm maple syrup, chicken and dumplings, country fried steak, eggs over medium actually cooked over medium, blueberry streusel french toast and the lemonade served in an icy beer mug. We love, too,  the folksy country store where the ladies greet you as they dust the Family Affair and Gomer Pyle USMC DVD sets. All hail Cracker Barrel and why oh why aren't there any on the west coast.? It's payback karma  for no In-and-Outs on the East coast, that's it.

The smartest thing we did on this trip (besides marrying each other) was to get a EZ Pass transponder for the car. Really saved time and money on all the toll roads. Extra bonus was the Sirius XM in the car, and we find Siriusly Sinatra right away. It's funny how when you are in love and running off to get married, every standard love song ever recorded sounds like it's just for you.

While you readers are all in a mood of good will, maybe this would be a fortuitous time to bring up a rather delicate subject--Kate.

Kate is, for better or for worse, an integral figure in our relationship. She is there with wisdom and calm to help when trouble looms, yet she's infuriating in her flightiness and downright stupidity. We care for her, making sure she has a warm place to sleep and replenish herself at night. She repays us by freezing us out and not speaking to us. Her quiet anger when we are wrong is frightening. She unites us in happiness, reassuring us that our choices are worthy. She's bitterly divisive. Michael never knows when she's going to blithely take Elisabeth's side in a disagreement. Elisabeth is rarely prepared when she coldly changes allegiance and cozies up to Michael's brilliance. Michael embraces her affection with passion, calling her pet names and praising her good taste and cleverness. These are the hardest times, when Elisabeth gets the dark, dank, oppressive feeling that Michael actually loves Kate more than he loves her. Trollop! Elisabeth cries. Tramp! Harlot! TEMPTRESS! But ah! Soon the tables turn again and it appears--is it possible?--that Kate indeed leans towards the joys that only a woman can provide. And Elisabeth once again forgives her, and pulls her close.

Kate is our GPS.

Kate became part of our family on our trip to Scotland and England last summer and continued her maddening and exhilarating ways on this trip. But enough about the little jezebel...

On our way up Highway 8 to Pittsfield (where we'll apply for our marriage license) , we spot several restaurants we read about on TripAdvisor and wonder how late they stay open.

Kate obviously doesn't know the difference between a round-about and a true left turn so we do a lot of what Bob Newhart calls alley driving (the driving instructor routine--iTunes it now).

The Pittsfield City Hall looks how a small-town city hall should--Greek Revival columns and mahogany-lined hallways with little signs hanging on the top of the doorjambs identifying each department. The Mayor's office lobby has a Lucite box filled with baseballs. There are no lines of people waiting for anything except the parking ticket office--and you get to sit on upholstered chairs while you wait.

In the City Clerk's office, we're the only ones there for a marriage license--it's all about dog tags and fishing permits. But we know we're in the right place because there's a framed print of Norman Rockwell's "Marriage License" on the wall. There is a three-day waiting period before the license is issued. We've come prepared with birth certificates, Social Security cards and passports but all they need is for us to use a black pen. We take note that the application doesn't include references to gender in this marriage equality state.They ask us to swear that all the information is correct and that we're not cousins and stuff. Being Quakers, we ask if affirming rather than swearing is ok. It is a Quaker tenet not to swear. The meaning behind that is not only the sense that if the Sermon on the Mount gives you an ethical principle (But I tell you, do not swear at all, either by heaven for it is God's throne or by the earth for it is his foot stool. Simply let your yes be yes and your no, no--Matthew 5:34), you ought to take it very, very seriously, but also that if you swear, you are suggesting that maybe other times you don't tell the truth. The Presidential Oath of Office, as laid out in the Constitution, contains the option as well--whether to swear or affirm. It's a Quaker legacy. President Barack Obama, in fact, chose to affirm. It's ok with the City Clerk of Pittsfield Mass too. We affirm.

Kate can't find the exact address of the Oak N' Spruce (more folksiness) timeshare resort in South Lee but we're sure we'll find it if we head to the street. We pass Tanglewood, the Berkshire Theatre Festival, the Colonial Theatre, Shakespeare and Co and tons of art galleries and bookstores. You've got to love a region that's almost entirely culture-driven. We picked the right place to be married.

The Oak N' Spruce gets mixed reviews online, mostly based on the age range and renovation status of the buildings. Elisabeth has called in advance to request a newer unit and since she has casually mentioned that we'll be on our wedding trip, it works. It's a family-oriented place with extensive activities and they've thoughtfully assigned us a unit away from the center of the action. Nice condo with living room, kitchen, two bedrooms and two baths with an in-room jacuzzi bath (major points awarded by Elisabeth). No fireplace or wi-fi but a nice woods view and an automatic icemaker. More points awarded.

Dinner at the Salmon Run Fish House. Michael doesn't know what scrod is so, predictably, he orders it. Strawberry shortcake for dessert. We close the place, also predictably.

It's raining pretty good when we get back. The rain sounds lovely on the leaves out the window.

Our Wedding Trip--Day One

Hello from Mr. and Mrs. Michael Elliot.

Elisabeth is in the process of changing her name. We've been told that this is A) really old-fashioned and B) nice. Although Elisabeth is melancholy about no longer carrying her father's name, she feels very right about taking her husband's name. After all, she was Graham for the first fifty years of her life and she'll be Elliot for the next fifty.

We left for Boston on Thursday morning, June 10. Our plans to get some sleep before the Red Van picked us up at 3:15am didn't work out so we were pretty punchy. You can pick out the Virgin America counter by the loungy little red LED lamps, and it wasn't even open when we got there. We both use CPAPs for sleep apnea which, according to law, cannot be counted as carry-on bags because they are medical equipment. Elisabeth is all over this idea--she gets to carry-on her purse and her Land's End briefcase along with her CPAP case, which also has just enough room for a little cosmetics bag. Michael, on the other hand, has only his small REI carry-on (with his CPAP in it) and he insists on carrying Elisabeth's CPAP bag just in case an airline official gets huffy about E's three carry-ons. Always avoid bureaucracy when you can.

Like the counter, the plane wishes it was a Las Vegas ultralounge. The lighting alone seems intent on getting you to buy drinks, gamble and pick up babes. Your individual seat monitors even have seat-to-seat chat. VA has pretty good fares as a rule which means of course they charge big-time for everything else. Checked bags ar $25 each--each way, even when you use frequent flier miles (which we did). They charge for headphones to access their extensive entertainment options at your individual seat monitor but you get a choice of red, blue or silver. We brought our own, thanks. There are many movies to choose from--at $8 each and you can't share. Water, juice and soft drinks are free sans peanuts. But you can order peanuts and assorted other snacks and sandwiches for an additional fee. You order them using, yes, your individual seat monitor. Personally, we'd trade a little less self-conscious cool for a little more it's-on-the-house courtesy.

It's overcast throughout the flight so we miss lovely morning-has-broken views of our country. We got our car rental on Priceline as usual and are happy to get National--they always have good, friendly service as well as no-hassle pick-up. Traffic isn't bad at all through Boston's Big Dig. No-frills dinner at the Piccadilly Pub off the Turnpike. We can't check into the timeshare in the Berkshires until the next day so we score a 4-star Sheraton in Springfield on Priceline.  The catch of course with city 4-stars is you pay $10-20 a day for parking. Tonight, we would have been happy with an EconoLodge. We have no need for a sleek lobby or little bottles of stuff--all we want to do is shower and sleep the minute we get there.

Let your life speak

Twenty-eight days from today, we will be married at the Quaker Meeting House in Adams, Massachusetts.

To us, a major part of being a Quaker means that you must, in the encouraging words of George Fox, let your life speak.

We have, therefore, made the decision to wed in Massachusetts in support of their recognition of marriage equality. This decision was immediate and simultaneous. In November ’08, we shared a common pain with many Californians with the passage of Proposition 8. Elisabeth looked at Michael and shared that she could not in good conscience be married in the state of California. And Michael looked back at Elisabeth and told her that he felt exactly the same way. We were instantly led in the same direction. It was truly what Quakers call an "opening"--an insight into how a witness or testimony can be acted out in everyday life.

We do not feel it would be right for us to walk into a California state office and receive a marriage license based solely on the fact that we are the right kind of citizens. In other words, straight.

Our decision was affirmed in a joyously inspiring way this summer when we worshipped with Lancaster Friends Meeting in Great Britain. We visited the same weekend that British Yearly Meeting met in York, and it was at this meeting that the decision was reached, by consensus, that same-sex marriages be prepared, celebrated, witnessed, recorded and reported to the state just as opposite-sex marriages are. This decision reaffirms the central insight that marriage is the Lord’s work and we are but witnesses. The question of legal recognition is secondary.

But this decision was further yoked with the stated intention to engage with governments to seek a change in the relevant laws so that same-sex marriages notified in this way can be recognized as legally valid. Registering officers of the British Yearly Meeting are not being asked to step outside the law. But revisions to Quaker faith and practice in Great Britain have been completed.

We believe that the mark of a true believer is a changed life and convictions arise from an inward spiritual experience. Historically, Quakers have been heavily involved in social issues including the abolition of the slave trade and slavery itself, equal rights for women and continuing efforts to resolve conflict peacefully and to not take up arms. In Lancaster, we shared in another deeply personal and emotional witness--that of Friends who felt upheld by their meetings in their relationships but regretted that whereas there was a clear, visible path to celebration and recognition for heterosexual couples, the options available for couples of the same sex were not clear and could vary widely between meetings. Friends who feel theirs to be an ordinary and private rather than an exotic and public relationship have had to be visible pioneers to get their relationship acknowledged and recorded.

It is our personal decision to married in a state where all couples who wish to join their lives can, both legally and spiritually, and we know it will not be met with universal approval. We are constantly reminded of the need for tenderness and acceptance towards those family members and friends who disagree with the nature of our decision. That's a core Quaker belief too.

So far, we have been inspired and warmed by those who have embraced our decision as well as those who have agreed to disagree with love.

Our vows in Massachusetts will be private. Just us. The Adams Historical Society is unlocking the door to the Quaker Meeting House for us to say our vows. This is the meeting house where Susan B. Anthony was raised. Then we will drive to Mohonk Mountain House for our wedding supper. Mohonk is a very special place for our family. Elisabeth's grandfather was the resort's house doctor in the '30s and her mother's family spent their summers there. Beth spent her honeymoon there when she married Bob Strader and they have plans to return for their twentieth anniversary in October. Elisabeth has visited there a few times but this will be Michael's first visit to this truly amazing place.

We are planning a vow-renewal ceremony aand celebration in Whittier in early 2011. In the meantime, the logistics and schedules of life must intrude and as we are both in the entertainment field (let alone Disney!), this is true tenfold. So we’ll be working hard while we plan our celebration with our family and friends. We’ll hopefully have a date for this very soon.

In the meantime, we are looking forward to standing together and exchanging our vows on June 15 along with a short visit to Mohonk and the wonderful scenic and historical places that the mountains of Massachusetts and New York offer in such abundance.

Love to all, Elisabeth and Michael

The Minute is Approved

On Sunday, our clearness committee submitted the following minute for action in Monthly Meeting at First Friends Church:

We recommend that the marriage of Elisabeth Graham and Michael  Elliot take place under the care of Whittier Monthly Meeting. The committee named met with Elisabeth and Michael in open consideration of their readiness for marriage. They have followed through with suggestions by the committee and we endorse their marriage.
--Anne and Bedford McIntosh, Mary and Theodore Marshburn, Marygene and William Wright

And we joyfully report that the minute was approved.
We are grateful to our clearness committee for their love, fantastic advice and wonderful humor!

Next up: letting our lives speak...in Massachusetts.

Our First Steps in Marrying Quaker Style

For the right joining in marriage is the work of the Lord only, and not the priests' or magistrates'; for it is God's ordinance and not man's; and therefore Friends cannot consent that they should join them together: for we marry none; it is the Lord's work, and we are but witnesses.

--George Fox

Quakers have established certain procedures in the case of a marriage to be solemnized. This is partly to ensure that the legal requirements are observed and the proper records kept. Far more important, however, is the value of the procedure in emphasizing to those being married the solemn nature of their undertaking and to the monthly meeting (the administrative community of the church) the need to uphold the parties concerned, both during worship and thereafter.

Elisabeth is a birthright Quaker, coming from generations of Friends dating back to the 1600's and has been a member of First Friends Church meeting in Whittier since childhood. She and Michael made the decision to be married under the care of First Friends meeting some time ago and have since been attending meeting for worship together. Through attending meeting and spending time with Friends, Michael has seen the way open (to use another George Fox phrase) to becoming a convinced Quaker, as Elisabeth's father John was. Convinced means being in unity with the Quaker faith even without formal membership or being born into the faith.

We requested the meeting to appoint a clearness committee as part of our preparation for marriage. Our clearness committee is made up of three couples: our friends Bill and Marygene Wright, Ted and Mary Marshburn and Anne and Bedford McIntosh. Ted was a classmate of Elisabeth's mother at Olney Friends School and Anne and Elisabeth grew up together going to Sunday school at First Friends.

Meeting with our clearness committee provides the opportunity to explore the nature of our commitment. Prayerful consideration in a relaxed atmosphere with good friends (not to mention Mary's fabulous cooking) has indeed been time well spent.

The origin of the concept of a clearness committee was to ensure that persons contemplating marriage were "clear" of any encumbrance. Nowadays, the name is used to describe a process of queries and discussion--a way of deepening communication in our relationship.

The clearness process differs from pre-marital counseling as it flows both ways. The committee determines our clearness to go ahead as well as its own commitment to embrace us as a couple. The meeting’s oversight and care of our marriage does not end with the celebration but endures throughout our lives and we value its role in nurturing, supporting and celebrating our marriage when times are easy and during difficult times as well.


Our next step will be the submission of a minute presented by the committee to First Friends monthly meeting recommending that the marriage go forward. A minute is a statement of belief that an individual or group would like to record for others to see, both now and in the future.

We joyfully anticipate monthly meeting this Sunday!

Thanksgiving Day, 2009

Michael proposed the afternoon of Thanksgiving Day as we were preparing to leave for dinner at the home of cousins Tim and Wendy Haldeman. We've been discussing marriage for a long time but we're happy to report that the moment Michael chose for the proposal took Elisabeth completely by surprise. Many tears followed. Michael then called Beth--she and Bob were sharing Thanksgiving with Bob's son Steve and his family in Ukiah. Gallantry lives on (and being Scottish, was there ever any doubt?), as Michael formally asked Beth for Elisabeth's hand. More tears followed. Then we put on our kilts and headed over to the Haldeman's.

It is our Thanksgiving tradition to bring a bottle of single malt Scotch whisky to cousin Tim--usually Macallan. This year, we visited the Macallan distillery in Craigellachie, Scotland and acquired a bottle of cask strength. After dinner, Michael presented the bottle to Tim and poured the first dram into a pewter quaich (also acquired in Scotland). A quaich is a small shallow bowl with two handles that is, according to Scottish tradition, used to toast love and friendship. It's also used when adversaries meet, as when two people drink from the same quaich they can be sure it's not poisoned. Like most Scottish legends, a double-edged sword! After sharring the first sip with Tim, Michael announced our engagement and offered the quaich to Elisabeth. Both the announcement and the whisky gave everyone a redolent glow as well as quite a kick.

Many thanks to all our family and friends for their enthusiastic warm wishes, even those you couldn't resist a "it's about time!" (Uncle Doug Richie. Scott Ward.) Plans are currently underway so watch this space for details. Hoo Ha!