My friend Shelley wanted to get married in the chapel at Cade’s Cove, and she asked me to perform the ceremony. What I discovered after we arrived was that she hadn’t actually booked the chapel. She just decided we’d all show up and speed through a wedding before the authorities arrived to shut us down.
It was a gorgeous day with perfect weather, which meant the Cove was packed with tourists. The chapel was full of wanderers, and I quickly saw the problem. If we started the ceremony, strangers would linger. Lingerers would attract gawkers. Gawkers would eventually expect cheese straws and cake.
Several times the chapel emptied and we rushed into position, only to have a family of bored, complaining kids shuffle through the doors at the last second. At one point, an older woman was the only non-wedding guest left. She took her time reading every historical plaque and studying every display in the old wooden chapel.
The moment she finally exited, we ran to the front.
I delivered the ceremony like an auctioneer on a cocaine bender. They shouted their vows at each other the way I imagine they’d shout their first serious argument. The kiss lasted longer than the entire ceremony.
Immediately, three tourists walked in.
We all clapped and cheered.
It was the most romantic wedding I’ve ever attended.
[Image credit: Interior of the Primitive Baptist Church at Cade’s Cove. Photo by Nancy J. Olds via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).]
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