Mother's
Wedding Present
5 On the first of October, 1966, God and a judge named Shomer
6 gave me a husband. I remember laughing over the thought that the
7 judge's name meant "watchman" or "guardian" in Hebrew. I didn't
8 know how much his guardianship would be needed.
9 The pelting rain falling from a slate gray sky on my wedding
10 day had given me its present too: a massive head cold that left
11 me sniffling, feverish and generally miserable. So, a week after
12 the ceremony we were sitting in the waiting room of a doctor's
13 office near our apartment.
14 It was also just a month into the first semester of my
15 senior year at Temple University. I had nothing more pressing to
16 think about than trying to breathe and simultaneously wondering
17 what to write for the English essay that was due Monday and what
18 to do for supper that evening.
19 The door opened and a very tall, Black policeman strode in.
20 I was sitting down and he looked as though he were seven feet
21 tall.
22 He glanced around the waiting room and asked "Is G-----
23 R----- here?" in a loud, authoritative voice. In some shock I stood up.
24 It didn't help. He still looked seven feet tall. He was dressed in his
25 dark blue uniform with its shiny silver badge and his highly polished
26 black leather boots and his duty gun at his side in a shiny black
27 leather holster.
28 "I was G----- R-----," I said. "I'm now G-----
29 T-------," and I nodded at my new husband. The police officer suddenly
30 looked as sick as I felt.
31 "Would you please step outside?" he asked. We
32 walked outside and he said, "I'm sorry Mrs. T-------, but you're under
33 arrest."
34 I couldn't think. I could only cry. Fighting to be as
35 levelheaded as possible, I asked the officer whether we could stop by
36 the apartment to get some papers: our birth certificates and the wedding
37 license. Yes, we could do that. He put us into the squad car and we
38 drove the few blocks to the apartment, where we gathered up the
39 necessary papers. Naively I thought that just showing them to the
40 officials would make everything right. Then we drove from the apartment
41 to the Camden County (New Jersey) Jail.
42 We weren't photographed or fingerprinted, and everyone
43 sounded very sympathetic when they heard the charge, but a
44 warrant had been sworn out and their duty was clear. We would
45 stay at the jail unless we could post bail, guaranteeing our
46 presence at a trial.
47 There definitely would be a trial. Because she wanted to
48 break up our marriage, my mother had sworn out a warrant charging
49 us with fornication. We found out abruptly that some communities
50 had an old law that made it a crime to engage in sex without
51 marriage. It was seldom thought of, much less used. Camden, New
52 Jersey was one of the communities where the law was still on the
53 books. I knew we were innocent of that charge, but who would
54 believe us? I wondered briefly if I'd be allowed back in school
55 after this?
56 Lawyers? Who thought of needing a lawyer? We had only been
57 married a week. We couldn't afford one even if we knew who to
58 call. And the bail was seventy-five dollars, a monumental sum
59 when our joint income was sixty-five dollars a week.
60 We tried calling this person and that one. No one we tried
61 was at home. I began to imagine that we'd be in that place until
62 the trial came up or until the end of the semester. We tried
63 calling Rob's minister. He was out too.
64 As all this was going on, I needed to use the rest room. My
65 embarrassment was magnified a thousand times when the jail matron
66 got up and went into the ladies' room with me. It was the most
67 ordinary of human functions but I was not permitted to be alone.
68 Is that what it's like to be a prisoner?
69 Then we thought of calling Judge Shomer. He was in, and said
70 that if we couldn't find anyone else, he would come to the jail
71 and get us out on his word. No, he couldn't defend us himself,
72 but he said he'd get one of the lawyers in his office to do it.
73 I felt better. We tried Rob's minister again, and he was
74 home. Yes, he'd come down and bail us out, but we'd have to
75 repay the seventy-five dollars later. Yes, we'd soon be free.
76 We spent four hours in the Camden County Jail. Each minute
77 seemed like a year. I remember crying and praying a lot.
78 No one was rough with us or nasty to us. In fact,
79 everyone was as gentle as they could be, considering the
80 circumstances. Nevertheless, the thought that I was not free to
81 walk out the door or even go to the rest room whenever I chose
82 was as effective as fastening a heavy ball and chain around my
83 leg. I felt imprisoned.
84 The minister came, paid the bail, and we walked out free
85 into the sunlight.
86 I'd never appreciated how important doing what I wanted,
87 when I wanted to do it was to me before. I'd never been in any
88 trouble with the law either. Inside I was humiliated, angry and
89 bitter. Nothing, I vowed, would ever bring me there again.
90
91 The semester continued, but as if under a cloud. I did what I had
92 to do, but all our energy was devoted to getting ready for the
93 trial.
94 The trial date finally came. Mother's lawyer dropped the
95 charges as we stood before the judge on the condition that we'd
96 meet with her later. I agreed. The judge promptly dismissed the
97 charges "with prejudice," meaning that they could never be
98 refiled.
99 Going down in the elevator to leave the building, I turned
100 to Rob and said, "I guess I'll have to meet with the old dragon." I
101 was so tired, so angry, and so resentful. I didn't notice that
102 Mother's lawyer also was in the elevator with us and had
103 overheard my comment. The meeting was never held.
104 It took years for the bitterness and anger to slowly drain
105 away. It was years before I realized that the arrest and the
106 trial had been Mother's wedding gift to us. She, the victim of
107 two failed marriages, had unknowingly kept ours from failing.
108 During that first year, we'd spent so much time and energy
109 fighting the charges she brought that we had no time to fight
110 between ourselves. During that year we'd bonded so closely that
111 no matter how hard we fought later, and we did, divorce was forever
112 out of the question. There were even times that we joked about
113 it. "Divorce ? Never! Murder . . .well . . . maybe."
114
115 Years later, a song by husband and wife songwriters Steve
116 and Annie Chapman said it for me:
117
118 Oh the ships are burning,
119 There'll be no turning back for you and me.
120 Whatever we find here, we've made it clear
121 This is where we'll always be.
122 On this island of pleasure, there'll be some danger
123 And we might think about returning
124 We both know we won't go, that's why
125 the ships are burning. (1)
126
127 Because I had stood up to her, I had burned my ships behind
128 me. No matter what happened between Rob and myself, there would
129 be no running home to mother. We'd have to work it out ourselves
130 or else. And with God's help, we have.
131 Footnote:
132 (1) "The Ships Are Burning" by Steve and Annie Chapman -
133 Chordant Productions