Spirituality Column #765

July 13, 2021

Common Christianity / Uncommon Commentary

‘That Summer Before He Died…’

By Bob Walters

When John Samples said he could marry us either “tomorrow” or not for another month (see last week’s column), Pam and I prepared for a wedding “tomorrow,” June 22, 2009.

After church we went to the nearby Von Maur store to find a pretty summer dress for Pam, all the while notifying family and close friends of our suddenly pending nuptials.

It was Sunday, and we were to be married late Monday afternoon at East 91^st Street Christian Church in the small chapel next to the Fireside Room where, incidentally, for years there hung a beautiful painting of our beloved late pastor Russ and Marian Blowers.

On totally short notice, Pam’s sister Coleen couldn’t make it down from Detroit.  My brother Joe – a boat captain in far northern Wisconsin – happened to be ashore and jumped in his car for Indianapolis.  Big sister Linda was in Tucson, too far away.  Both of my sons were out of state working summer jobs unable to come back, but Pam’s daughter Lauren was Maid of Honor and son Jason walked his mom down the aisle.  Joe, my life’s wingman, was Best Man.

By early Sunday afternoon Pam’s dress was bought and our very small cast of wedding characters was assembled.  Joe arrived midday Monday and drove Pam and me downtown to get our license. On our way back north we picked up wedding rings, Pam then feverishly made beautiful fresh flower bouquets for herself and Lauren (of course she did), we got cleaned up, and headed to church.

We figured we would have a proper “reception” later on in August (we did), but the wedding, at first, was just us.  Then Pam’s longtime church life group got involved, then my close friends George Bebawi and Stan Naraine and their wives (May and Janie) – plus my old high school pal Sharon Job Hoffman – came along side, and we wound up with about 25 at the actual wedding.  Stan had us all over to his place for an impromptu cookout afterwards.  It was awesome.

But there was a secret Pam withheld from me until we started writing our vows that hectic Sunday afternoon.  It stands not only as one of the greatest surprises of my life but was the centerpiece of our wedding ceremony.  Fancy vows wouldn’t be necessary.

“There’s something I’ve never told you …” Pam said, smiling. Me: (gulp) “Okay ….”

Turns out that summer before Russ Blowers died in November 2007, Pam had run into him one afternoon at the Castleton Christian book store on 82^nd Street.  One-on-one time with Russ was precious and they sat on a bench between rows of books for most of an hour chatting about Pam’s “little family,” church friends, and Russ’s recent June trip with his sons to Normandy.  Russ just naturally added the Lord’s joy, always. He endearingly referred to Pam, who played tympani in the E91 orchestra, as his “drummer girl.”

At our wedding almost exactly two years later, the “homily” was Pam’s daughter Lauren reading aloud this charming story with its surprise ending.  As they parted that summer day in 2007, Russ said to Pam, “I have a special friend I’m going to introduce you to when I think the time is right.”

Pam never so much as hinted that when I approached her at Russ’s funeral, she recognized me as the guy “who always sat with Russ.”  Three days later on Sunday when we spoke, Pam was convinced I was the friend Russ was talking about … but she never let on to me until the day before we were to be married.

Russ knew both our situations, Pam’s and mine, and knew my situation well enough not to prod me, not then, about a new relationship.  But Russ knew when the timing would be right.

I’m convinced meeting Pam at Russ’s funeral was not so random after all.

Russ set us up that summer before he died, and kept his promise in November.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) would have freaked out had he known this earlier.