We had hired
a four-piece band for the reception at the Franklin Arms Hotel in Brooklyn Heights. A friend of the band leader stopped by
to see him. The MC announced
“Ladies and
gentlemen, my friend has just recorded a song he hopes will be a hit. He would like to sing it for the bride and groom. Here is Jerry
Vale to sing ‘Non Dimenticar means don’t forget you are my darling”
I leaned to
my new husband and said, “Wouldn’t it be funny if this guy ever got popular.”
When he finished his song, Jerry asked me if I had a special request. I told
him “our song, Tenderly,” and he sang it to me. I’m sorry to say I didn’t have
the foresight to get a picture or an autograph so I have no proof that Jerry
Vale sang at my wedding. You’ll just have to take my word for it.
We had rented a room at the reception hotel to change into
our “going away” clothes and arranged to leave our wedding finery in the room
to be picked up by relatives. Richard entrusted the room key to his
Grandmother. We donned our new clothes and hurried into a waiting taxi to take
us to the Barbizon Plaza Hotel, overlooking Central Park in Manhattan. When we
arrived at the hotel and my husband looked for his wallet to pay the driver, he
realized he left it in his tuxedo at the reception hall.
“Driver,
take us back to Brooklyn.”
I waited in
the taxi outside the Franklin Arms while my new husband got the room key from
his grandmother, retrieved his wallet and returned the key. I later found out
that our guests had a good laugh when they saw my groom coming back alone to
talk with his grandmother.
“He’s asking
for last minute instructions,” they guffawed. “Yes, Nana, then what do I do?”
With wallet
firmly in his pocket, my husband came back to the taxi, we went back to
Manhattan and back to the Barbizon Plaza Hotel, and our married life commenced.
