Here as promised are pictures from my wedding back on June 9, 2001. Seems like eons ago now.
So you should already know by now the story of how Sarah and I first began to date. If you don't, go back and read her picture page for the lowdown. Anyway, here we now have the play-by-play of our wedding, from the day before the ceremony all the way through to a few days after the honeymoon.
Before we begin, let me run down the wedding party quickly. My best man was Josh Beckmann, my best friend from high school. Sarah's maid of honor was Theresa Stroker, her best friend from high school. My groomsmen were Jared Edwards (my best friend from college) and my brother Nate. Sarah's bridesmaids were Mary Triefenbach and Jill Prest (her best friends from college). The ushers were Sarah's brother Mike Wildschuetz, Mike (Progger) Rengel (another good friend of mine from college), Aaron True and Chris Miller (two more close friends of mine from high school).
This first picture here shows all of the wedding party's butts. This photo was taken during the middle of the rehearsal, in which John Willis, my childhood minister, walked us through everything. The ceremony was held in my hometown church, Calumet Street Christian. It really is a beautiful church, but at the time of the ceremony they were building a new addition to the church which was a minor drawback. Luckily the part being built was nowhere near the main sanctuary, pictured here, where we were having the wedding.
The women of our church were very helpful in regards to our wedding. They provided the candles, they helped host Sarah's bridal shower even though they didn't really know her, and several of the families I grew up with in the church (the Hunters, the Willises, the Weakleys) came to the wedding as well.
If you look closely at this picture, you might notice a slight discrepancy between what is pictured and who was actually in our wedding. The girls are all as they should be; that's Jill, Mary, Theresa, and of course Sarah (from left to right). John's in the middle officiating, as he should be. But my side should be me, Josh, Jared, and Nate. But that's not Jared, is it?
No Jared was late to the rehearsal; in fact he was really only there for the last five minutes or so of the rehearsal. Because he was late, my good pal Dave Cicchetti stood in for a while, and that's why he's standing there between Josh and Nate.
But Jared did eventually show up, we ran through the wedding briefly, and then we headed on to the Green Grill for the rehearsal dinner. The food was pretty good, and there was an open bar for the two hours of the dinner, which unfortunately I did not get to take full advantage of. I gave out gifts to my groomsmen and ushers (engraved Zippo lighters) and Sarah gave out gifts to her gals (picture frames, I believe). Fun stuff.
What was NOT so much fun was the entertainment. Originally Dad had set it up with the owners of the Grill that there would be a guy running karaoke that night. The Grill would foot the bill on the karaoke guy as long as we had it at nine o'clock, after the dinner officially ended, so the rest of the customers could come in. Now as you can see from this picture, we are not cheesily singing along to the Barenaked Ladies, are we?
No, in fact when the guy showed up, it turned out he didn't have his karaoke machine anymore. It broke and he never got it fixed. He was just a DJ and a very lame one at that. He pretty much guilted people into dancing every now and then, and he had the worst DJ banter ever, just continuing on and on talking to us endlessly, supposedly because he was a bit slap-happy from lack of sleep. The first dance he guilted Sarah and I into slow-dancing, telling us we needed to press together and not dance like we were in junior high. Josh and Miller got out on the dance floor too to help relieve some of the tension (and don't they make a cute couple?), but we only ended up staying at the Grill an extra half an hour or hour at the most.
(Side note: when we asked for karaoke, the Grill managers told us they'd pay for it. But when we got a DJ instead, they tried to make US pay. I convinced Dad to have it out with them, and they caved and said we didn't have to pay. It's not like they didn't get plenty of money from us on drinks anyway...)
So after the horrible DJ incident, it was decided the after-party needed to move to my house. Now the girls (and Jared and his date Tracy) all decided that they wanted to drive back to their hotel room (the Holiday Inn in Mt. Vernon, where the wedding reception would be held the next day) to go for a swim in the pool. However, when they got there, the pool was closed already, so they all tried to sleep because they had early hair appointments the next day. Needless to say, they couldn't and at four in the morning they finally gave up trying and started getting ready for the ceremony.
This photo to the left is of the four of them and their flamboyant hairdresser Damian, who Mom recommended (she knows him through their involvement in the local theatre group). Look how bright-eyed they all look despite getting no sleep!
Meanwhile at the Higgins household, a party was a-goin' on. Aaron and his new girlfriend at the time Melinda joined us; Nikki came by for a while; Progger originally was going to drive back home that night but ended up staying and drinking too much with us. Josh and I got a chance to hang out for a while too (much more so than we did at the bachelor party) which was cool. We didn't end up GOING to bed until four in the morning, around the same time the girls were getting UP. Luckily, all I had to do was climb into my tux, so we didn't end up getting up until around noon.
"Wait a minute, Steve. Back up," you say. "Bachelor Party? Details please." Well really there's not much to tell. The bachelor party was about a month before the wedding, and we started off using the opportunity to get everyone together for the tux fitting (might I add at this point that the stunning white jackets we wore, as well as the cool shoes, were all MY idea, and that I looked great in them?). Miller had to scutter off early though, and Aaron had to work, so at that point it was me, Nate, Jared, Progger, and Josh. We scurried on over to St. Louis where we met up with Kyker and headed to the first activity of the day: a movie. That's right, we went to the Tivoli and saw Memento as part of my bachelor party. But I think all the guys will agree that this was a good choice.
After that, we went into Fitz's for a drink and some food (the movie was a rush hour show, so it was just dinner time). Amazingly, both Nate and Progger got served without getting carded. After we ate, we looked around Vintage Vinyl for a bit and grabbed a copy of the RFT to see what was going down around town.
It was then that we discovered that the most famous porn star at present, Jenna Jameson, was stripping at a local club. We really wanted to go but A) Nate was under-age and couldn't get in and B) the cover charge was $30! So instead we went to Dave and Buster's, played some games, drank (the youngsters again didn't get carded), and had some more food. We rounded out the evening hanging at Jeff's apartment for a while then heading for home around two in the morning. Good times, but definitely not as much debauchery as there could have been. (Sorry to disappoint you.)
So back to the the morning of the wedding (Saturday, June 9, 2001 by the way). Progger had to drive all the way home and back because his tux was still at this parents' house in Smithton, but he made it back in record time. The photographer had us pose for a few shots before the wedding; then we had to hide in this little classroom for what seemed like forever so the girls could get their pictures taken. (The girls took that whole "you can't see her in her dress" thing WAY too seriously.) Anyway the room was the classroom for the two year olds, so all the chairs were tiny. There was a keyboard that Nate played around with for a while, and there was also a VCR but we didn't have anything to watch. This shot here of me trying to climb out the window is NOT me trying to run away from the marriage, but is instead me trying to run away from the boredom of that little room. Luckily, Josh was a good best man and kept me under control.
I feel very strongly that the best part of a wedding ceremony is that it's just that: a ceremony. So much of your time is spent going there and standing here and walking over there and lighting this candle and all of that that you don't have time to be nervous. At least, that's the way I felt about it. I wasn't nervous at all beforehand, no cold feet (despite any inferences you may draw from the above picture), and was fine during the ceremony as well.
Not so with Sarah. Those who know Sarah well can tell you that she is not the most extroverted person you've ever met. In fact, she's quiet and shy; the mere idea of meeting some of my friends for the first time back when we started dating (for the record, it was when Denise and Amy came to SEMO for the Big Bad Voodoo Daddy concert) had her shaking like a leaf.
So you might not be able to tell from this photograph where she's looking at the camera and smiling brightly, but she was a nervous wreck -- Not because she was marrying me, which seems like the logical reason to be a bundle of nerves, but because all those people were looking at her. So whenever there was supposed to be a tender moment during the ceremony, like some point in John's LONG sermon that especially pertained to us, I would squeeze her hand and try to look her in the eye and smile... and she would stare straight ahead, never taking her eyes off John the entire time.
And in case you were wondering where the sightline for Justin, Riann, Nikki and the rest is going in this picture, they're looking at the TRAIN on her dress, not her butt. You perverts.
But once the wedding was over we walked down the aisle (I walked anyway; she sort of ran as quickly as she could to get away from all the attention) and Sarah quickly returned to normal. We received our guests as quickly as we possibly could (which as you all know from going to weddings is never quick at all) with Sarah and I introducing people we knew to the other. Here you can see me getting hugged by our family friend Patty Hunter while Denise and Amy are coming down the line.
So then we ran outside and got pelted with birdseed flung from silk roses (handed out by some kids who don't know us but their parents are friends with Sarah's parents somehow). Sarah got a ton of birdseed down the front of her dress, and when we went back in, she started scooping it out of her cleavage, not realizing she was standing right in front of John, our minister. Funny stuff.
Anyway so then we had our picture taken a million times. Our photographer Stephen Peeck did a pretty good job by the way, but we do have a few minot beefs. First, he really seemed to be flying by the seat of his pants in a way, because he didn't have a list of pictures he needed to take. Since he had no list, there were a couple of shots he missed, like he let some members of my dad's side of the family go without realizing they needed to be in some pictures. He also did not get a single picture of Sarah with both her parents and her brother. He got some with the parents and some with the brother but not all together like he did with my family. Finally, after it was all said and done and it came time to put together the wedding album, I spent about two to three hours going through which pictures I wanted in what order, laying them out specifically. But when we got there to go over it with him and his wife, they wanted to change the order. I stood my ground, but still today a couple of pictures are out of order in the album. Still all in all he did a very good job, and we have no real complaints.
But finally the picture taking at the church was over and the reception could begin. This, for me, was the most important part of the whole day, because in my opinion all weddings are the same. The ceremonies themselves are usually uneventful, so they have a tendency to blen together in the memory. What people REALLY remember is the reception, and a good reception guarantees people will look back on the occasion and say "THAT was a great wedding."
Well if my theory holds true, then lots of people must remember our wedding fondly, because we have been told by numerous people that our reception was perhaps the best they'd ever been to. i don't mean to brag; I'm just really pleased with how it all turned out.
The reception was held in the ballroom at the Holiday Inn in Mt. Vernon. This photo was taken right outside the building by the way, with the photographer there egging us on. He wanted us to "go crazy" for one shot, to demonstrate the transition from serious ceremony to fun party. The "crazy" picture can be seen in our wedding album; the guys are actually going crazy, while the girls apparently took "go crazy" to mean "smile even bigger than before" because that's what they did.
Now the food at the reception was excellent but this picture here illustrates the one thing that "went wrong" at the wedding in my opinion. (And since this thing, as you will soon learn, is so incredibly minor, it's another testament to how great our reception was.)
We did the cutting of the cake after eating dinner, as this photo illustrates. (The photo was taken, by the way, from the platform where we in the wedding party ate; it was a bit weird to eat while sitting above everyone else at the center of attention, but I of course got used to it much sooner than Sarah did.) So we cut the cake, and I acted like I was going to do the cliche "smoosh it in her face" thing but then didn't. And that was it. The cake then was cut by the servers and handed out to everyone.
I LOVE wedding cake; it's the best, richest cake in the world, and on my own wedding day I felt like I could eat plenty without feeling too guilty about it, especially since the cake was huge. But it slipped my mind and I didn't eat ANY CAKE at my own wedding! Later that night after the reception, there was TONS of cake left over but nothing to take it home in... so almost half of the cake went into the trash! The only thing that got saved was a little bit for us to eat on our one year wedding anniversary, apparently because tradition dictates we eat year-old food and get sick. But that was the only cake that got saved. (And you have no idea how, in the week after the honeymoon, Sarah had to fight to keep me away from going to the freezer and just eating it then... when it was still good, as opposed to a year later when it would be spoiled.)
So my biggest piece of advice to all grooms out there is, to paraphrase Marie Antoinette, let yourselves eat cake!
The only other valuable advice I can give a prospective groom involves the garter toss. Brides have it easy when tossing the bouqet because there's an easy-to-grip handle on the thing and the flowers have some weight to them. Throwing the darn thing is not difficult, and the girls actually WANT the bouqet. At our wedding, Mary, Tracy and Theresa dove for the thing, only to get beat out by little Lisa, who apparently turned into a wolverine when the thing came her way and started clawing anything or anyone between her and those flowers.
The garter is a whole other story. First of all, you might think, since it's got elastic in it, that it's going to be easy to throw too. You just shoot it like a rubber band at the guys, right? Wrong. The elastic is super weak, so if you try to shoot it like a rubber band, it will fall limply to the floor a few feet in front of you and you will have to try it again, as I did.
Secondly, guys couldn't care less about the thing. They only go out to get it because they're forced to by their girlfriends (or the DJ) and when the thing comes at them, they recoil from it rather than grab for it. On my second attempt to get the garter to the guys, it landed at their feet and some of them actually backed away from it, like people do to pools of blood in movies. So I went and picked it up and tried to force it on Jared, who ran away and would not let the thing touch him when I threw it at him. Finally Progger picked it up off the floor to give it back to me for yet another attempt, and I simply did not take it back.
So my other piece of advice: the garter is not a rubber band, so you should try to have a target in mind when you begin. And really hurl the sucker at the guy.
So then the dancing began, and this time the DJ was much better. This was mostly due to the fact that I met with the DJ once before the wedding because I wanted to make sure the playlist was acceptable. As you know from going to weddings, the same songs have a tendency to be played over and over again. And a lot of those songs suck, especially when you live in southern Illinois. If it's not country, it's eighties pop, which is almost worst at times. So I went through his playlist, picked some songs I liked, made a LONG list of songs he was only to play if requested and others he could NOT play under penalty of not getting paid.
I also burned the guy two CDs worth of music, one which was light songs that could be played during dinner and the other more party-type songs. He played all of the dinner CD and most of the party CD, which meant everything I wanted to hear (and what most of my friends would want to hear) got played. Basically it was a lot more alternative and nineties music than anything else, which makes sense since we grew up in the nineties and not the eighties.
Sarah and I had our first dance to the song "Secret Smile" by Semisonic, which then turned into the playing of OUR song... which is Will Smith's "Gettin' Jiggy Wit' It." Yes, that is our song; it's no joke. I know all the words by the way. So the DJ played this nice slow song and then mixed it right into a quick rap song, which sort of let the actual reception begin.
So the dancing continued from there. The college guys all danced to the Partridge Family and the eels (or as Sarah calls it, the carrot head song), per tradition. We got the DJ to play "Cotton-eyed Joe" and convinced Jared to demonstrate his clogging skills to it.
Also, somebody brought in a tape of "Lovechicken" (It was probably Dave Cicchetti since he did co-write the song, after all) and they made me dance to it after we had done the Hokey-pokey and, the scourge of all weddings, the Chicken Dance.
At one point I went out to go to the bathroom and Dave Wilbur stopped me and talked to me for like ten minutes about what a great guy I was and the potential I had. I honestly thought at the time that he must be stoned, but I later realized he was stalling and keeping me from going outside, where Sarah's car was getting "decorated" with balloons, streamers, and condoms. (Final bit of advice: if you can, clean your car while it is night out still so the condoms that have been placed over your windshield wipers do not bake there in the morning sun.)
Now again, despite appearances, I did not drink that much. We had an open bar for all of the wedding party (everyone else either had to pay or could drink from the free kegs). I ordered a long island iced tea at one point and it was quite possibly the worst one I've ever had, only second to the ones I've tried at various bowling alleys. After choking that down, I did not drink any more all night, so one drink in five hours is pretty good really. You can ask any of my old scholar bowl teammates; it does not take drunkenness for ties to end up on my head.
The reception ended around midnight and Sarah and I retired to the honeymoon suite, which we had told people was at another hotel so our room did not get trashed. "Finally, the juicy stuff," you're thinking to yourself, but I'll have to disappoint you. Sarah had been up since four a.m. at that point, and it took nearly half an hour for her to get undressed once we were in the room. I had been dancing four hours on end myself, so we pretty much just crashed. (If you want juicy details, ask Theresa how her night went after the reception ended.)
Next day was Sunday and after checking out we went out for lunch at Applebee's with Jared, Tracy, Theresa and Mike. Then we cleaned off our cars and sent everyone on their way, ending the day by going to the movies with my folks to see Evolution. A much less quality film than at my bachelor party, by the way.
Our honeymoon didn't begin until a week later. My folks had told us at the beginning of planning for the wedding that their gift to us would be the honeymoon. So they sat down with us and we looked at a few options, including Disneyworld. What Sarah and I decided on was Jamaica, so we left on June 17th for a week at the Hotel Riu in Negril.
What is there to do in Negril? Well if you're Brooke Burke on Wild On!, there's plenty to do. If you're Steve and Sarah, not as much. We pretty much sat in our rooms and on the beach the whole week we were there. We only went on one excursion, which was to the famous Rick's Cafe (and to buy some much needed contact solution and some contraband Cuban cigars!) but for the most part we stayed there at the resort. (I'm a little bit sad looking back that we didn't go on this "swim with the dolphins" excursion for Sarah's sake, but it was about $200 a person and it also would have involved a two-hour hike up a mountain side.) All our food and drinks were included (which again should have meant a lot more drinking would occur than actually did), so there was no need to go out. We swam a bit; we took a paddleboat out and about onto the water. I tried to snorkle to no avail. I read The Handmaid's Tale and The Hotel New Hampshire on the plane, in the room and on the beach. It was very relaxing really.
Sounds kinda dull and drab but it was just our speed really. Neither of us were really comfortable in the foreign environment (in hindsight, we should have chosen Disneyworld) so we ended up watching TV a lot and paying to use the computers at the Internet Cafe. Weird things about Jamaican TV: the Playboy channel was right next to the Disney Channel on our TV. Also, they had ONE "network" channel that carried ALL the best American shows. While we were there, they showed Friends at eight o'clock and Walker Texas Ranger at nine. Two different shows on different nights and different networks in America. They also showed Young and the Restless at seven p.m. there so we would spend that time each day getting ready for dinner and watching the soap opera, which was about one day behind what it would have been in America.
Really I guess the big thing that killed the trip for me was, the first thing off the plane, we had a two hour drive to our hotel which took us through the poorest areas of the country you can imagine. To get to our huge luxurious resort, we drove past shacks the size of outhouses where entire families lived. I guess I have too much of a social conscience, because it kind of bummed me out a bit.
But we really did have fun on the trip AND when we got back. Sarah's folks were on vacation themselves, so Sarah and I got to housesit for them in St. L., which was like honeymoon part two. We ate out and went to the movies quite a bit, and it too was a very relaxing time.
When everyone was back, we got together at Sarah's folks' house to open our presents finally (Sarah says this happened before we left, but I remember it as after and it's my website so that's what I'm sticking with), and that was a good time. Among the hundreds of picture frames and other knick-knacks were a few fun things like: a copy of Fabio's novel Pirate, a few board games (which we've gotten a lot of use out of in Olney), an ice cream maker, a picnic backet (both of which we REALLY need to use more often)...
and of course a glass head. No we didn't register for it, but it's still pretty darn cool.
If you're still awake after reading all that and want to see more pictures without tons and tons of needless commentary, check out Sarah's page:
So you should already know by now the story of how Sarah and I first began to date. If you don't, go back and read her picture page for the lowdown. Anyway, here we now have the play-by-play of our wedding, from the day before the ceremony all the way through to a few days after the honeymoon.
But Jared did eventually show up, we ran through the wedding briefly, and then we headed on to the Green Grill for the rehearsal dinner. The food was pretty good, and there was an open bar for the two hours of the dinner, which unfortunately I did not get to take full advantage of. I gave out gifts to my groomsmen and ushers (engraved Zippo lighters) and Sarah gave out gifts to her gals (picture frames, I believe). Fun stuff.
So after the horrible DJ incident, it was decided the after-party needed to move to my house. Now the girls (and Jared and his date Tracy) all decided that they wanted to drive back to their hotel room (the Holiday Inn in Mt. Vernon, where the wedding reception would be held the next day) to go for a swim in the pool. However, when they got there, the pool was closed already, so they all tried to sleep because they had early hair appointments the next day. Needless to say, they couldn't and at four in the morning they finally gave up trying and started getting ready for the ceremony.
This photo to the left is of the four of them and their flamboyant hairdresser Damian, who Mom recommended (she knows him through their involvement in the local theatre group). Look how bright-eyed they all look despite getting no sleep! 
"Wait a minute, Steve. Back up," you say. "Bachelor Party? Details please." Well really there's not much to tell. The bachelor party was about a month before the wedding, and we started off using the opportunity to get everyone together for the tux fitting (might I add at this point that the stunning white jackets we wore, as well as the cool shoes, were all MY idea, and that I looked great in them?). Miller had to scutter off early though, and Aaron had to work, so at that point it was me, Nate, Jared, Progger, and Josh. We scurried on over to St. Louis where we met up with Kyker and headed to the first activity of the day: a movie. That's right, we went to the Tivoli and saw Memento as part of my bachelor party. But I think all the guys will agree that this was a good choice.
I feel very strongly that the best part of a wedding ceremony is that it's just that: a ceremony. So much of your time is spent going there and standing here and walking over there and lighting this candle and all of that that you don't have time to be nervous. At least, that's the way I felt about it. I wasn't nervous at all beforehand, no cold feet (despite any inferences you may draw from the above picture), and was fine during the ceremony as well. 
But once the wedding was over we walked down the aisle (I walked anyway; she sort of ran as quickly as she could to get away from all the attention) and Sarah quickly returned to normal. We received our guests as quickly as we possibly could (which as you all know from going to weddings is never quick at all) with Sarah and I introducing people we knew to the other. Here you can see me getting hugged by our family friend Patty Hunter while Denise and Amy are coming down the line.
But finally the picture taking at the church was over and the reception could begin. This, for me, was the most important part of the whole day, because in my opinion all weddings are the same. The ceremonies themselves are usually uneventful, so they have a tendency to blen together in the memory. What people REALLY remember is the reception, and a good reception guarantees people will look back on the occasion and say "THAT was a great wedding."
Now the food at the reception was excellent but this picture here illustrates the one thing that "went wrong" at the wedding in my opinion. (And since this thing, as you will soon learn, is so incredibly minor, it's another testament to how great our reception was.)
The only other valuable advice I can give a prospective groom involves the garter toss. Brides have it easy when tossing the bouqet because there's an easy-to-grip handle on the thing and the flowers have some weight to them. Throwing the darn thing is not difficult, and the girls actually WANT the bouqet. At our wedding, Mary, Tracy and Theresa dove for the thing, only to get beat out by little Lisa, who apparently turned into a wolverine when the thing came her way and started clawing anything or anyone between her and those flowers. 
So then the dancing began, and this time the DJ was much better. This was mostly due to the fact that I met with the DJ once before the wedding because I wanted to make sure the playlist was acceptable. As you know from going to weddings, the same songs have a tendency to be played over and over again. And a lot of those songs suck, especially when you live in southern Illinois. If it's not country, it's eighties pop, which is almost worst at times. So I went through his playlist, picked some songs I liked, made a LONG list of songs he was only to play if requested and others he could NOT play under penalty of not getting paid.
So the dancing continued from there. The college guys all danced to the Partridge Family and the eels (or as Sarah calls it, the carrot head song), per tradition. We got the DJ to play "Cotton-eyed Joe" and convinced Jared to demonstrate his clogging skills to it.
Now again, despite appearances, I did not drink that much. We had an open bar for all of the wedding party (everyone else either had to pay or could drink from the free kegs). I ordered a long island iced tea at one point and it was quite possibly the worst one I've ever had, only second to the ones I've tried at various bowling alleys. After choking that down, I did not drink any more all night, so one drink in five hours is pretty good really. You can ask any of my old scholar bowl teammates; it does not take drunkenness for ties to end up on my head.
Our honeymoon didn't begin until a week later. My folks had told us at the beginning of planning for the wedding that their gift to us would be the honeymoon. So they sat down with us and we looked at a few options, including Disneyworld. What Sarah and I decided on was Jamaica, so we left on June 17th for a week at the Hotel Riu in Negril.
Really I guess the big thing that killed the trip for me was, the first thing off the plane, we had a two hour drive to our hotel which took us through the poorest areas of the country you can imagine. To get to our huge luxurious resort, we drove past shacks the size of outhouses where entire families lived. I guess I have too much of a social conscience, because it kind of bummed me out a bit.