The year is 1959, so keep that in mind.
My mother lived in a little town up by Traverse City, MI (the pinkie area). My dad was in the Navy and stationed at Grosse Point (down by Detroit). He's native to Detroit, so it wasn't that bad in that regard.
Dad's base gets a new commander two weeks before the wedding. One of his first acts is to cancel ALL leaves for the next month. Dad's CO goes to bat for him and, the Monday before the Saturday wedding, gets the agreement that Dad has exactly 24 hours of leave to get married. So Dad has to start driving at midnight for the 5 hour one-way trip up, get married, drive back before 0000 hours Sunday.
But wait, there's more:
It's the night before the wedding and there's this terrible thunderstorm. My mom loves thunderstorms, so she's on the porch watching it with a couple of her bridesmaids. The church she's getting married in tomorrow is across the street and up a small hill. They watch as the church is struck by lightning and starts to blaze.
The small town has a volunteer fire department, so it's nearly 40 minutes before the team arrives. Too late. The church burns to the ground.
The reverend is on hand by this time, calls his reverend buddy in the next town (on the other side of the bay) to see if there's room for this wedding. They can be squeezed in at almost the same time--but they've got a 1/2 hour between other weddings.
But wait, there's more:
My uncle (Dad's best man) and his wife are driving up the night before from Detroit. Auntie is pregnant with their first child and starts to have labor pains. They have to stop in Lansing (less than half the trip) since this was the age of women getting knocked out to give birth. Uncle calls Mom (no cell phones remember) since Dad is unreachable on-base.
Dad arrives at 4:30 in the morning and crashes on my great-uncle's couch for a few hours. Turns out Auntie had a false alarm, so they load back into the car and finish the drive to arrive at 7:00 and crash at a different relative's house.
Because it's a small town, the news that there's been a change of venues travels quickly. So far, so good.
But wait, there's more:
The bridal party gets ready and Gramma loads them into the station wagon and they head off around the bay to the church with the few decorations that didn't get torched with the church.
Mom and Grandpa come out and discover that everyone who has a car has left. The only thing left to take her to the church is Grandpa's plumping truck.
Grandpa rushes into the house, opens the linen closet and grabs a bunch of sheets to spread over his greasy stuff so Mom doesn't get her dress dirty. He fails to notice that many of these things are part of the fine Irish linen set Gramma had gotten for her own wedding. They pile Mom into the truck and head off.
There's a train passing between the towns. Grandpa is at the head of the line. It's the end of August and it's already getting hot (1959--no A/C). The train passes. Mom managed to hold onto her veil. At the front of the line coming back to town is Gramma. They'd forgotten the flowers in the fridge.
But wait, there's still more:
Standing at the altar in her white dress, Mom feels the first gush of her menstrual cycle. Other than that, the wedding goes off without a hitch.
But wait, there's still more:
At the time of her marriage, Mom was the teacher at two one-room schools (one in the morning, one in the afternoon--I did say it was 1959 small town, remember?). In her happiness, she invited all her students and their families to come to her reception.
They all showed up.
Suddenly there's not enough food to be had at the reception. They have three times the amount of people expected.
The grocer down the street takes pity on the situation (he's a guest) and takes Gramma down and runs her a tab to feed the extra guests.
But wait, there yet one more thing:
Dad still has to be back on base by midnight, so they have to cut the party short and start driving. Dad falls asleep at the wheel and they drive off into a ditch.
No cell phones in 1959. No way to call for help.
It takes about an hour before someone drives by and notices them. Because it's a rural area, they happen to have a tow chain and pull my folks out of the ditch.
Dad gets back to the base with, literally, 3 minutes to spare.
And, in case you're curious, my folks celebrate their 50th anniversary next week. They are NOT renewing their vows.