In less than a month I will be running again along the coast of Cape Cod with Martha's Vinyard on the horizon across the water. I'll be running for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation and a kid I've never met, but who has inspired me.

For many years, when I was a non-profit executive director and before, I always shared the thought that when something bad happens to a child, it is unfair.

I still believe that. The pressure on the child, the parents and the whole family can be massive. The road has already been chosen for those with challenges, but money for research can make a difference for those yet unborn, as well as for kids like Elijiah, who recently started taking a newly approved medicine that could change the trajectory of his life.

What a great feeling, to make a difference in the life of a child.

Support Cystic Fibrosis Here

Religion can be complicated, and for a couple of kids looking to get married in the early 70’s, it was.

When my wife, Betty, and I decided to get married… Let me rephrase that. When she accepted my proposal, we began the process of setting the date, the location, the guest list and all the other things that people do who are about to tie the knot.

Our situation was a little more complicated by the fact that I was Roman Catholic, and she was a Protestant, in and of itself not a huge deal. The ’little more complicated’ part more or less involved a matrix. A matrix? Here’s how that went:

• I was a college student in Amherst, in the Diocese of Springfield, Massachusetts
• I was still a member of record of St. Thomas More Church in Braintree, in the Diocese of Boston.
• We were going to be married in Lunenburg, in the Diocese of Worcester.
• That’s right, our marriage was going to involve most of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts Catholic administration: a Diocesan triple play.

Further, as mentioned we were going to be married in the First Congregational Church and needed a priest to co-officiate a ‘road game,’ so to speak.

So, to summarize we had three different parts of the Catholic Church involved, a Congregational Church and a non-Catholic bride. The Ecumenical spirit was just taking over at the time, but this mixed-faith marriage was still not a normal occurrence.

Here are the steps we followed to become an official couple in the Church and the Commonwealth.

Step 1: Sort Out the Paperwork: Somehow, we were able to convince all three administrative units of the Church to settle on the Diocese of Worcester as the official governing unit of my faith and received all the necessary approvals. Lots of calls, some letters. Getting the marriage license was easier.

Step 2: Book the Church: My wife’s church was a New England postcard location: a little white church in the center of town, and we planned the receiving line to be on the front lawn.

We established the date as July 27^th. 

At the time, for some reason, I was afraid of forgetting our anniversary in the future, so I liked the idea of having the date a week after my birthday. That way I knew I wouldn’t forget. I haven’t.

Step 3: Find a Priest: Steps 1 and 2 were easier than Step 3, and we were warned about this in advance. A Catholic Priest to go into a Protestant church was unusual, and performing a marriage in one was not an everyday occurrence the 70’s. 

At Umass, at the Newman Catholic Center, the Monsignor was unable to honor our request, and we didn’t know anyone in the Worcester area, our newly designated Diocese. We finally approached St. Boniface, the local Catholic Church and a great young priest, Father James Lehane, agreed to perform the ceremony, and we were all set. Sort of.

Step 4: Pre-Cana Conference: The church required couples to attend Pre-Cana (or pre-marriage) training or counseling. You know, ‘be nice to each other’ and ‘respect your vows’ kind of stuff. The problem? We didn’t have a local church. (See above for the Boston-Worcester-Springfield issues). We were finally approved to go through the training at a church in Fitchburg where we received the permission and approval of the Church to marry. The rules at the time were that we could not be married without attending the classes, and we may have been running out of time because of the administrative complications.

Everyone with the church that we dealt with on the journey was friendly and helpful, there were just rules and guidelines that maybe hadn’t been tested very much at the time. But, to me, a great service the church would me provide during the lead up to our wedding was yet to come, and it took place on the wedding day, behind the First Congregational Church.

Step 5: Get Married: The big day finally arrived. The First Congregational Church is filling up. Father Lehane, my Best Man, my brother Brian, and I are hanging out with the ushers outside the basement door of the church, and I am sweating and nervous, as well as being excited. 

I believe the priest was also sweating and nervous as well as being excited. My hands were shaking when I said the following words to the priest, mere minutes away from moving upstairs: ‘Father, the church provides a lot of services to its members in time of need. This is my time of need and I really need a cigarette, have you got an extra one?’

He reached into his pocket, gave me a butt, lit it for me and the two of us were standing outside the basement door of the Congregational Church puffing on Marlboros as the organist started to play ‘Here Comes the Bride.’ 

We all headed upstairs. Both Father Lehane and I did pretty well. He was great at his first road game. I walked out of that church with the girl of my dreams, on July 27th, a mere 49 years ago in 1974.

Postscript: Our wedding reception was at the now-closed Thunderbird in Fitchburg and about half the guests were fraternity brothers and their dates, all of whom liked to have fun. The motel attached to the reception hall was full with family and friends who made a weekend of the event, and I remember four things about the weekend, not related to the reception.

1.      FATHER: My father and our friends rented a room just to hold the beer for the weekend. Yes, it is true. My dad and my brothers hung out together. They shared the expense of a 'beer room.' One room, just to hold the beer, seemed to be enough.

2.      MOTHER: My mother and her childhood friends were kicked out of the pool area the night before the ceremony for being too loud. Trust me, we never let my mom forget this.

3.      FRIENDS: My ‘friends’ woke me up the morning of the wedding with a shot of whiskey. The last time I had a shot of whiskey? Not sure if it was some type of tradition, but it sure woke me up.

4.      PARTY: After our getaway, we decided to go back to the party at the motel pool, since it looked to be a good one. We changed out of our wedding attire into casual clothes, drove to her parents house, sat there for a few minutes and jointly decided to go back and have more fun. So we did.

We’ve been having fun ever since, although I no longer smoke, I still have the girl of my dreams by my side, and she approved this message.