Saturday morning began with breakfast in the hospitality suite.

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Then, Carol and I ventured out into Richmond. This small city, as you know, was the capital of the Confederacy, and statues of sword-bearing steely-eyed generals with beards on horseback abound. After the South decided to remain in the Union, Richmond continued as a center for tobacco warehousing, since it had access to the ocean via the James River, as well as to inland destinations by canals and railroads. Those warehouses have closed, and Richmond is on a mission to find a mission. The downtown area, where the warehouses were is clean and new, with lots of tall buildings and chic boutiques. We strolled down the riverwalk, along the towpath for the mules which has been paved over. There's nothing to see, but it's quiet and restful.

We strolled through the chi-chi district where are hotel was, and went into an antique store, where the prices were right. We bought an Art Deco silver cocktail shaker.

We returned to the hotel, stopped in for a bite at the hospitality street, and met up with Michael Krepon, who had driven in from Charlotessville. Our messages crossed, however, and he didn't get ours about the marathon. He and Carol spent a few minutes together, while I slept, and he drove home. Sorry, Michael. Then we watched a movie in the room, Minority Report with Tom Cruise. It's a bit of science fiction. It was fair, but when we saw at the end that it had been directed by Steven Spielberg, we were surprised. Three Farklempt Stars.

Then we dressed and went down to the ceremony. The Wises and the Simonoffs came down the aisle, and were united as a couple and as families by the rabbi from Richmond and by Cantor Sid Gottler. What naches to sing at your grandchild's wedding. Hold on, Josie.

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Evie doesn't miss a thing!

The reception was joyous. Everyone picked the hors d'oeuvres platters clean. It makes you cry to see Jews fight over a cube of cheddar. There was a fabulous band. Usually, at these events, I go into the bathroom early and stuff my ear canals with toilet paper (really!) to save what hearing I have left. This band was loud, but they were good, smooth, slick, and cleary played together for a long time. They moved in dance steps together, and they had two engineers, one for sound and one for light, to make a six-piece ensemble sound like a huge band.
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Everyone had a great time!

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A highlight of the dancing was Uncle Sam Wise, brother of Eli's late father. It's too bad that Bubbe Pearl is no longer with us. She would have been a great match for him. Ask him how old he is, and he answers, "Can you keep a secret?.......So can I." He tells tales that are so exciting, so interesting, so moving...and then you wonder...is it true, or is he exaggerating? And just like Bubbe, he lives to dance at weddings. He is at the center of the Hora, and he dances the Chicken, with his head bobbing and his fingers extended from his chin. He is everyone's darling.

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We clowned around,

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took the obligatory professional family pictures ("Hold still, Herman, and stop talking!")

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and called it a night.