We were living in an apartment on Dartmouth Street, in a house that Tim Schapp owned, when we decided to get married. Peggi bought a dress from a small shop on Monroe Avenue and I had a suit made by the Turkish tailor who had a shop on St. Paul in the building where New Math practiced.
We rented the non denominational chapel at Colgate, across from Highland Park and a friend of my parents, Jim Hughes, officiated. My brother Fran played some Weather Report tracks on a turntable. My sister, Amy, carried some flowers up the aisle and my brother, Mark, took photos.
Joe Barrett was performing in a play that day at UR Summer Theatre so he couldn’t make it but John Gilmore and Brad Fox, longtime Rochester buddies, were there. We were so happy that so many of our friends from Indiana, where we had gone to school, were able to celebrate with us. Rich, Kim and Dave, Norm and Pam. Steve Hoy was our best man and Peggi’s sister was the maid of honor. Three of Peggi’s girlfriends came from Detroit. We had about ten people sleeping in our apartment that weekend.
My sister, Ann and three of my brothers, John, Tim and Fran took us out to dinner on Sunday and I learned one of them met a foreign exchange student who was working as an au pair for a couple at our wedding. He followed her half way around the world like the Wreckless Eric song.
