Just a little less than a month following Christmas 1971, my brother and I were off on another adventure to “The Tube City” of McKeesport.

Aunt Margie Farrell was preparing to be united in holy matrimony with Karl “Butch” Fenske at the home of the groom’s sister in Tenth Ward.

When John and me pulled up to the two-story Victorian in the family station wagon with our parents and little sister, our favorite cousin, Lori Farrell, ran out to the car wearing a puffy yellow dress. While the three of us climbed the steps to the front porch, Aunt Kathy Farrell Pomposelli drove up in a 1969 brown Chevy Nova with her two oldest children waving their little hands out the windows.

Grandma Grace Moffett Farrell pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the portico as Angelo, Jr. and Patrick Pomposelli caught up to their cousins.

We were all smiles while lavishing our family’s matriarch with a barrage of hugs and kisses before going into the house.

Lori said her goodbyes before climbing the staircase to join her mother, who was getting ready for the momentous occasion in one of the second floor bedrooms. The foursome spotted Uncle Harry Farrell as we were escorted into the nearby living room to our seats along the raised hearth of the stone fireplace.

Since Dad was the minister, he headed the parade up the center aisle followed by the bridegroom and his little brother Nelson, who was home on leave from his Marine Corps unit in Vietnam.

Then the groom’s grandmother, Susan “Suzy” Hvozdik, the only surviving grandparent, was escorted to a front row seat by her oldest grandson Jason, who was an usher for the ceremony. Next, the husband-to-be’s parents, Lawrence and Helen Hvozdik Fenske kept time with the music as they strode up the aisle and sat next to Helen’s mother.

Grandma Farrell, mother of the bride, was then escorted by her only son, Uncle Harry, to the front row of chairs on the opposite side of the Fenske family.

The preacher’s sons’ Cousin Lori, who was the flower girl, came traipsing up the aisle in her fluffy yellow dress dropping rose petals as she went.

Six-year-old Lane, Suzy’s youngest and cousin-to-be of the flower girl, tagged along in a tuxedo coat and bow tie carrying a small white pillow in his hands.

Finally after Aunt Sharen Farrell, the maid of honor, marched down the center aisle and took her place opposite the groomsmen, Mom began to play the wedding march.

Everyone stood as Aunt Margie, all dressed in white, came down the stairs in the foyer and took Pappy John Farrell’s arm as the pair entered the large room and made their way up the aisle to join the rest of the wedding party.

After all the guests were seated, the minister of the Gospel began the wedding ceremony with the traditional opening.

When the blond-haired young man asked who gives this woman to be married to this man, Pappy Farrell said, “Her mother and I do.”

Then the black-haired Irishman lifted the veil and kissed his third daughter on the cheek before taking his seat next to Grandma in the front row. When Dad asked for the rings, Butch looked at his young nephew and noticed the empty pillow he was haphazardly holding in his hand.

“Where are the rings,” the groom whispered to his younger brother with his hand cupped around his mouth. “I thought the ring bear was supposed to have them.”

The 6-year-old boy looked up at his uncles and gave them a pouty face while placing his hands on his hips as he dropped the pillow to the floor.

“No, I don’t have’m,” exclaimed the first grader moving his head back and forth. “You didn’t trust me not to drop’em.”

“Oh, that’s right,” announced the uniformed officer snapping his fingers before reaching into his pocket. “I put them in my trousers for safe keeping.”

At the conclusion of the ceremony, everyone clapped after the minister announced the happy couple as man and wife.

After a quick switch out, the large living room used for the wedding ceremony became a dining hall for the reception with several tables with the chairs placed around them.

A variety of hot and cold meats, salads and hors d’oeuvres were brought in from the kitchen and laid out on the dining room table as a buffet. The three-tiered wedding cake was the last thing to be brought through the swinging door to be placed on the back corner of the table.

Several guests made delightful comments about the exquisite cake with several meticulous details which was made by the mother of the groom.

All of the sudden, the family dog, a golden retriever named Otis, could be heard in the kitchen. One of the kids must have let him in the house by accident.

Before anyone could react, the large four-legged beast with yellow hair burst through the door from the kitchen and began barking at all the strangers in the room.

The door hit Helen on the back of the heel before she had time to set the cake down on the table.

As the elegant creation began to teeter in the bride groom’s mother’s hands, the Marine Corps officer snatched it from her in an effort to steady the piece de resistance.

Just when everyone thought the military man saved the day, the miffed ring bear came barging into the dining room to yell at the dog. The dressed-to-the-nines lad smacked the swinging door into his uncle, who dropped the cake onto the table with his head falling face first into the butter cream topped dessert.

There were many horrified gasps to see the beautiful cake ruined as the best man stood up with white icing covering his face. The 6-year-old looked like a deer in headlights while covering his gaping mouth with both hands.

“I didn’t like yellow cake anyway,” commented Uncle Butch as he swiped some frosting from his brother’s face and licked it.

“But the icing is pretty tasty,” he added as several guests emitted nervous laughter.

Fortunately, with only the topper destroyed, the majority of the cake was salvaged; so the reception went off without a hitch.

Stay tuned … you can read the conclusion of our adventure to the “Tube City” in my column next Tuesday.

Mark S. Price is a former city government/county education reporter for The Sampson Independent. He currently resides in Clinton. If you are interested in reading the extended version of this story in his novel titled, “Little Town by Gibson Mine,” just type the title into the Facebook search engine. Once you enter the public Facebook page, scroll down to Chapter 38, A Double-Ring Ceremony.