us all.
Just as she’d wanted, the church was bursting with people. Over two hundred guests
were inside, and more than that waited outside the doors as we were married on March 12,
1959. Because we were married on such short notice, there wasn’t time to make many
arrangements, and people came out of the woodwork to make the day as special as they
could, simply by showing up to support us. I saw everyone I knew—Miss Garber, Eric,
Margaret, Eddie, Sally, Carey, Angela, and even Lew and his grandmother—and there
wasn’t a dry eye in the house when the entrance music began. Although Jamie was weak
and hadn’t moved from her bed in two weeks, she insisted on walking down the aisle so
that her father could give her away. “It’s very important to me, Landon,” she’d said. “It’s
part of my dream, remember?” Though I assumed it would be impossible, I simply
nodded. I couldn’t help but wonder at her faith.
I knew she planned on wearing the dress she’d worn in the Playhouse the night of the
play. It was the only white dress that was available on such short notice, though I knew it
would hang more loosely than it had before. While I was wondering how Jamie would
look in the dress, my father laid his hand on my shoulder as we stood before the
congregation.
“I’m proud of you, son.”
I nodded. “I’m proud of you, too, Dad.”
It was the first time I’d ever said those words to him.
My mom was in the front row, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief when the
“Wedding March” began. The doors opened and I saw Jamie, seated in her wheelchair, a
nurse by her side. With all the strength she had left, Jamie stood shakily as her father
supported her. Then Jamie and Hegbert slowly made their way down the aisle, while
everyone in the church sat silently in wonder. Halfway down the aisle, Jamie suddenly
seemed to tire, and they stopped while she caught her breath. Her eyes closed, and for a
moment I didn’t think she could go on. I know that no more than ten or twelve seconds
elapsed, but it seemed much longer, and finally she nodded slightly. With that, Jamie and
Hegbert started moving again, and I felt my heart surge with pride.
It was, I remembered thinking, the most difficult walk anyone ever had to make.
In every way, a walk to remember.
The nurse had rolled the wheelchair up front as Jamie and her father made their way
toward me. When she finally reached my side, there were gasps of joy and everyone
spontaneously began to clap. The nurse rolled the wheelchair into position, and Jamie sat
down again, spent. With a smile I lowered myself to my knees so that I would be level
with her. My father then did the same.
Hegbert, after kissing Jamie on the cheek, retrieved his Bible in order to begin the
ceremony. All business now, he seemed to have abandoned his role as Jamie’s father to
something more distant, where he could keep his emotions in check. Yet I could see him
struggling as he stood before us. He perched his glasses on his nose and opened the Bible,