Wedding Bells.

“Do I have a panty line?”

The coral bridesmaid dress I was wearing seemed to be a little snug across my behind, and I was afraid the people that would be sitting in the audience would judge the way my dress/underwear combo looked. After several attempts of tugging and pulling on the coral pleated fabric, I decided it was impossible to fix and would just hope no one would notice.

Today, my best friend would walk down the aisle as a beautiful bride and say, “I do” to the man of her dreams. The wedding was a few hours away, and all of the bridal party was busy primping. Hair was curled and hairsprayed, eyelashes were perfectly mascara’d, and skin was perfectly tanned. We were ready for a wedding.

As a bridesmaid, your duty is to: 1.) do whatever the bride says, 2.) intercept any problems that might arise so the bride doesn’t find out, and 3.) make sure the bride is happy. It had been a very easy job, thus far. Problems hadn’t been major, and my best friend couldn’t stop smiling.  

T-minus 2 hours to the big event.

A kind woman was walking around with the news forecast playing over her phone. I heard that the county I was currently in was issued a “Tornado Watch.” Unfazed, I went about my bridesmaid business. Tornadoes are practically a weekly “experience” from mid-March to late July for those of us that claim the title of an Oklahoman. It’s a never-ending cycle of your favorite meteorologist interrupting your favorite Tuesday night show to warn you of the impending tornado that is expected to hit somewhere in this great state that, 9 times out of 10, is actually just a false alarm. You go back to watching your fave reality TV show, only thinking about the high winds and rain that are hitting just north of Perry, Oklahoma because the colorful “T-Storm Warning” map of OK is covering up a good 30% of the top right of your screen and you can barely see who the new Bachelor is going to be. Majority of us aren’t even fazed by the soon-to-be inclement weather because we are used to it—a little thunderstorm makes for a great night’s sleep.  And, isn’t it good luck if it rains on your wedding day?

We teased the out-of state photographer about how we “know” tornadoes, and that the storms aren’t scary like movies make them out to be. We told him he was safe. We assured him he wasn’t in danger. He seemed to trust us “weather aware” bridesmaids.

As I sat on the couch drinking my Coke with Lime, I heard my phone ring. My mother was calling, so I stepped outside to answer. I assumed she was just calling to let me know they were heading to the wedding; instead, she was informing me they were not heading this way, due to very severe storms between here and there. I casually laughed—there was no way they were going to miss this wedding. Not only was the bride my best friend, she was like their other daughter. She told me once more that they weren’t going to head this way until the storms cleared. My laughter faded. I sensed her serious tone.

“Momma, what’s wrong?”

It was then I realized I hadn’t been watching the news all day, nor had I checked the weather recently. It was then I realized I should’ve taken the “tornado watch” more seriously instead of blowing it off. It was then that my mother told me there was a tornado on the ground, and if it continued on its current path, it was heading straight for us. My lower lip quivered. My speech stuttered. My eyes fought back tears. My mom told me it would be okay, and then said she had to go.

There I stood outside the bridal room in my coral dress, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t like a normal “tornado watch.” This was serious. And I was scared. Remembering #2 and #3 on my “Bridesmaid duties” list, there was no way I could barge in and panic. Instead, I walked in and sat nervously on the couch. The room was different. When I left, there was laughter. Now, everyone was minding their own business, and not saying much. I had been on the phone for much longer than I thought, and the news of the impending storm had already reached the bride. There she sat on the couch, looking as beautiful as ever dressed in white-- her eyes wide with a combination of fear and disappointment. My stomach was in a knot. I prayed silently in my head she would catch a break, and the storm would somehow miss us.

The wedding festivities were continuing. The bride and groom had a sweet first moment, and took several beautiful photos as the storm clouds loomed to the West. Inside, things were coming together. Candles were being lit, finishing touches to the cake were being made, and I applied fresh lipstick. As guests began arriving, I overheard another forecast on a cell phone. There was a tornado on the ground—roughly 20 miles away. As the meteorologist described the nearby surroundings, I quickly realized this location was in the storm’s direct path. The knot in my stomach grew tighter. I wished so badly my parents had come, because I was scared. We did not have much time before the storm would be upon us.

Within 10 minutes, everything had changed. We went from a happy wedding day, to a nightmare. The next few moments seemed to blur. Tornado sirens blaring. People heading to the first floor to seek shelter. Rain pouring from dark storm clouds. I gathered my things, changed out of my high heels and into comfy shoes, and took a deep breath. They motioned for everyone to head down to the “safe space.”

Where was the bride?

The bathroom door was shut, and the light was on. I knew she had to be in there. What was I supposed to say? Nothing would change what was happening, nor would it make it better at this point. I stood outside the door for a minute, then knocked and went in. There she stood, looking out the window at the rain. She turned around to see who had disturbed her. Had it been my wedding day, I would’ve been crying hysterically. She wasn’t. She remained composed and strong. I told her we had to go downstairs, and she nodded.

As I walked downstairs, it hit me that it could potentially be the last time I walked down them. If this storm was as bad as the news said it was, this building might not be standing within the next hour. The knot in my stomach was now the size of a small watermelon. Upon entering the room, I noticed how many people were down here. All of us gathering for a wedding, but instead hiding from a natural disaster.

Another few moments of blur: sitting on the bathroom floor, power goes out, fanning myself with a wedding program. The sound of heavy rain is drowning out the sounds of all the cell phones and people. Unfortunately it didn’t cover up the guy who yelled the words that tied the knots in my stomach as tight as they possibly could get.

“It’s coming in 3 minutes!”

3 minutes. I had 3 minutes of safety left, and I was sitting on a bathroom floor in a hot building in the dark in a coral bridesmaid dress next to my best friend. When I woke up this morning, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind. I thought of how a few hours earlier I was so worried about my panty line. That no longer seemed important anymore. I felt tears well up in my eyes, and a lump in my throat burned ferociously. But what good would fear do now? I thought about my best friend. She had been so strong through this whole ordeal, and had never freaked out once. If she could remain calm in the wake of disaster on HER day, then surely I could be brave over the next few minutes. I could hear the storm—the rain, the wind, the chaos. I braced myself against the wall.

            “…It missed us.”

The tornado went south last minute, sparing all of us at the wedding. Praise the Lord. I stood up from my safe spot on the bathroom floor, and emerged into the main part of the room where most people were. Rain was still beating against the windows, and the thunder was rumbling. I found another fellow bridesmaid, and hugged her tight. Several minutes went by, and they gave us the “OK” to go back upstairs and proceed with the wedding ceremony.

A quick, but beautiful wedding took place amidst the chaos. Of course, you had to ignore the ever-present tornado sirens, and get past the transformer that was on fire just to the east of us, and also pretend the curtains behind the stage weren't dripping wet with rain. Nonetheless, a beautiful wedding took place. My best friend had married her beloved, and was happy.

Following the quick wedding was an even quicker reception. The workers at the venue told us we were running on back-up generators and only had 15 minutes left of power. Cut the cake, throw the bouquet, shoot the garter, and snap some photos. What could've lasted 2 hours, lasted 13 minutes. Much to my dismay, the nightmare was not over.

            “You have to leave.”

The wedding venue was in a flood warning, and the workers forced us to leave. We had no where to go, but we had to leave. The interstate home was closed, so there was virtually no way I could make it back to my house. I ran out to my car in the pouring rain, completely soaking my dress. I drive a car—a tiny car—not prone to driving through deep, fast moving water. Nor am I an experienced driver during high-stress situations. 

Luckily, I was able to follow another friend in his truck through the downtown area. After seeing many overturned semi-trucks and many down power lines, I decided I could not drive anymore. Fear and exhaustion had finally settled. I parked my car, and then climbed into my friend’s truck. We forged many rivers, and saw many people that were stuck on our way home, but we finally made it safely to his house. His sweet family served as a makeshift “Red Cross Shelter” for me that night and made sure I was fed and taken care of. That night when I crawled onto my blow-up mattress and couldn’t help but think about all that had gone on. The wedding might not have turned out "perfectly," but it happened. I was beyond thankful my best friend was married. And I was even more thankful I was alive.

However, the wedding bells that played sure sounded a lot like tornado sirens. 

Enjoy some pictures from Mr. and Mrs. Russ's BIG day!
They make it look like nothing bad happened at all. 

and here's one for my own personal enjoyment:

Bonnie was determined to catch that bouquet. 

You can check out the awesome photographer here.