I should explain to begin with that we had both wanted to keep the wedding maximally simple. (I had explained to Dick Lieban that although when Peggy and I were married, there were five people present [Peggy, me, Dick and his wife Ruth {who were our two witnesses}, and a somewhat intoxicated Justice of the Peace {who, while in a certain sense not all there at the time, nonetheless requires to be counted as a fifth person}], that had seemed rather more elaborate than I had really thought desirable, and since Hawaii required only one witness [or at least so we had been given to believe], we thought we could reasonably aim for a ceremony with slightly fewer frills this time).
Liz had for some reason (into which it has seemed prudent not to inquire further) taken it into her head that the wedding should be a surprise to me--something like a surprise party, but in this case a surprise wedding. She was going to make all of the arrangements and then at some time when I least (or if not least, at any rate not most) expected it, have it suddenly take place.
The wedding took place somewhere around 4:30-5:00 on the afternoon of 8 March at the tennis courts of Punahou School (where Liz teaches). The ceremony was performed by Steve Levinson, a judge whose wife teaches with Liz at Punahou. One unanticipated problem which emerged was that approximately 36 hours before the (secret) wedding hour, Steve was notified that he had been named by the Governor to the State Supreme Court. This information (Liz was given to understand) sent him into an orbit from which he foresaw no realistic prospect of having re-entered sufficiently to be able to function by ceremony time. However, Liz resorted to the time-honored strategy of intervention through his wife, and this intervention fortunately was met with sufficient success that it was possible to go through with the ceremony (although the costume in which he performed it doesn't bear comment [actually it does, as no accurate account of the proceedings themselves will be possible without acknowledgement of the flouting of normal standards of sartorial decorum that characterized the event]).
We were scheduled to play tennis with a couple of friends (Jim and Jeri Jeffryes) at the same courts at 2:00 (an engagement which, in retrospect, I came to realize had been engineered by [surprise!] Liz). Some time around noon on that day, Liz told me she had some errands to run (errands having to do with things she needed for events at school the following day), and that in case she didn't get back home in time, I should go ahead in my car to the tennis courts and that she would meet me there. Since I had already some acquaintance with the kind of thing that happens when Liz goes out on errands involving shopping, my suspicions were not aroused in the slightest measure when she, in fact, did fail to return in time and I was obliged to proceed to the courts alone.
In due time (if the expression "due time" is interpreted as possessing enough [a quite considerable amount it would, in fact, have to be] elasticity) she did arrive at the courts, and we played three sets (I believe) with Jim and Jeri. Then, I played a set of singles (or most of one) with Jim, after which we went up and sat on the lanai where people wait their turn to play, or wait after playing until they recover enough strength to make their way to their cars. I was in more nearly the latter than the former state, but Liz for some reason seemed anxious to arrange more tennis. I asserted that I was definitely not up to singles, but that I might be able to get through one more set of doubles (since Liz seemed to be eager to play more). I realize now that at some subconscious level, I did think it a bit odd when Liz persisted in her match-making, since, on the whole, I have found her to be fairly solicitous of my health and well-being (furthermore, at the time, it seemed she could have no conceivable financial interest in any misfortune to me). Liz arranged a doubles match for us, and then, before I quite understood how it had happened, I found that she had had herself replaced, and that I was being hustled off to one of the lower courts with three other guys. (In fairness to Liz, I should acknowledge that it was a good foursome, and that, even tired as I was, I enjoyed it).
Somewhere near the end of the set, Jeri came down and held a whispered consultation with Jim. (I discovered later that she was telling Jim about the wedding plan--she herself had not known until shortly before that; it had been a well-kept secret even from most of the people present until the judge arrived). Also at some time around then I happened to look up and see Liz making beckoning gestures (rather animated ones, actually) in our direction--gestures which at the time it seemed reasonable to ignore (but which again assume significance in retrospect).
Anyway, we soon finished the set, and there seemed to be a general agreement that we shouldn't play more, but should head back to the central area. [I might mention in passing that I served the game that ended the set, and won it. I thought I was serving well, but afterwards it was suggested that our opponents were aware of what was impending and threw the game. I found that gratuitous and it hurt to the quick (but I'm still convinced it isn't true).]
When we got up above, Liz met me and asked for my racquet, then shoved the stems of some flowers through the strings. Our racquets, so ornamented with flowers, were our "bouquets".
She then (? I'm really not too clear on the chronological order here) introduced me to Steve Levinson, the judge who was to marry us. He explained that she had told him that the prescribed dress was tennis clothes, but that since he hadn't any, he'd resorted to the closest approximation available, namely running shorts and a tank top.
He directed us to a spot under a tree just off the lower end of the tennis lanai. There had still been people playing tennis on several of the courts, but by this time they had gotten wind of the fact that something was up, and begun gathering around. Steve took up a position facing Liz, her brother Brian, and me, and began the ceremony. He fairly soon said, "I'm going to skip a lot of this", and began turning pages in his book, pausing from time to time to read something. However, he did restrain himself, and kept it admirably simple. He asked me if I promised whatever it was, and I said I did. Then he asked Liz to take the same vow (nothing about "obey", I noticed [I, of course, hadn't been consulted about any part of the whole affair]).
Liz, being not quite capable of doing anything entirely right, gave the response, "Except on the tennis court". However, he seemingly decided against pressing the matter further, and indicated his acceptance of this niggardly response by continuing. Indeed, he was careful, when repeating what we'd committed ourselves to, to enter the qualification, "except on the tennis court" (thereby extending the qualification to me; so we enjoy a specific dispensation from our vows when on the tennis court).
Then, in the final bit where he came to "by the authority vested in me as a judge", he added as an aside (presumably with his attire in mind), "believe it or not", and then went on to say that he pronounced us [whatever the phrase is--anyway we were married].
The judge was heard to remark after the conclusion of the ceremony, "I've done a bunch of things, but never under more exotic conditions."
[It will be more discreet to skip over the immediate sequel to avoid mention of comments which Liz's kissing of (seemingly all of) the male spectators drew.]
The reception took place immediately afterward. On one of the nearby tables were a (small) wedding cake and a tin of tasty cookies (both from King's Bakery). Guests were invited to partake of these, and furthermore were offered change to obtain soft drinks from the vending machine.
