Groomed for Love

When a rite of passage is wrong in some eyes, a lifetime commitment takes on new meaning

The Daily Northwestern, 10 April 1997

By Matt Villano

Just past the history building, in the garden to the left of that dorm with the ivy, the wedding party gathered for photographs. It was a crisp afternoon, and their shadows sprawled across the lawn like a skyline. The newlyweds laughed. They smiled. They kissed. They said "cheese" again and again.

Everybody loves a wedding, and this one was no exception. Passersby stopped and watched, sharing in the couple's joy from afar.

"A wedding!" a little girl shouted, tugging on her mother's hand as she ran closer for a better view. "Mommy, Mommy, where's the bride?"

The mother scanned the happy crowd in front of her, but couldn't spot a white gown. She looked again. "I don't see her, sweetheart," Mommy said, now visibly confused.

She watched for a few moments longer, just long enough for the photographer to snap the last couple of shots. When the shoot was finished, the couple embraced, then kissed.

Mommy gasped, took her daughter by the hand, and pulled her away.

"Let's go sweetie," she said. "There's no bride in this wedding."

Jason Rudy was half of that happy couple. He's one of my childhood friends - we've loved or hated each other since the first grade. He's the first of any of my friends to wed. And this weekend, he married Michael Beer, his boyfriend of almost four years.

I've known Jason is gay since we were 15. He came out to me first, two years before he told anyone else. He's now 22, and will graduate next month from Princeton University. That's where the wedding was - in University Chapel. Since the chapel was built more than 200 years ago, thousands of heterosexual weddings have been held inside. Jason and Mike were the first same-sex couple ever to be wed there.

. . .

"I, Jason Robert Rudy, take you, Michael Alan Beer, to be my partner, my love, my best friend and companion, to have and to hold, to comfort and to trust, as we mature and learn more of each other, and experience the pleasures and hardships of life and love together from this day forward, for as long as both shall live."

His soft voice quivered on each word. His eyes were closed, seemingly for no other reason than to hold back the tears. He clasped Mike's hands, stroking them gently with his thumbs. When he finished reciting his vows, Jason opened his eyes and stared into his lover's. He smiled.

Mike recited the same vows. Mike's voice was deep, and it echoed throughout the chapel. He stared at Jason the entire time, stumbling in some spots only because his smile was too big for the words to get around.

The minister had their parents affirm the union. Then she had us, the family and friends, do the same. She pronounced them "married." They kissed. The organist played Mendelssohn's Wedding March. The members of the wedding party shook hands. We followed them out of the chapel. A receiving line formed. We threw birdseed.

The ceremony could have been any wedding between any people at any time, in any place. And the reception was more of the same. Every time somebody clinked a glass with a fork, the newlyweds kissed for all to see. They took the first dance together, mingled together, and held hands wherever they went. The dads made toasts, and though their kind words seemed forced at times, their love for their sons shone through. The moms spoke as well, both sobbing before they could get past "I love you." The cake was adorned with beautiful flowers, and - of course - two tiny, plastic men.

It was the best wedding cake I've ever tasted.

. . .

Jason invited 14 our best friends from high school, most of whom are now in colleges up and down the East Coast. Of them, only three others showed up. Some had prior commitments - concerts and carnivals and the like. Others didn't come because it would have been "too weird."

Whatever.

Outside of Hawaii, gay marriages don't legally exist in the United States. Last year Congress voted down an bill that would have made them legal elsewhere in the c ountry. Technically, Jason and Mike's "wedding" was nothing more than a public ceremony of commitment. That didn't matter much to them, nor did it matter much to me.

If only it didn't matter to us all.

You can bet that if it were a traditional wedding - if Jason had married a woman - our friends would have found a way to support him on the most important day of his life. You can bet that if there were a bride in the garden at whom the little girl and her Mommy could have gawked, they would have.

For most, Jason and Mike's marriage was seen as different, as foreign to an institution conventionally reserved for heterosexual couples. But for those who opened their minds, Jason and Mike's wad a wedding that redefined convention, resisted assumption and bred tolerance. For me, those gifts are more valuable than any party favor or photograph, and they'll outlast even my most vivid memory.