One Friday, the crew knocked off early,
cleaned up, piled into the Land Rover and a truck,
and drove to the Leon County Courthouse, in Tallahassee,
where Judge Gwynn married me and Brenda. J. B., the crew chief,
was Brenda’s maid of honor. She wore flip-flips, not having any shoes
(normally, she wore Red Wing boots). My best man was Jay Johnson.
He loaned us his VW bug for our (three-day) honeymoon and took
our wedding pictures with his Asahi Pentax camera. We drove back to
Panacea and had a wedding dinner at The Oaks. We had fried mullet
and cheese grits or French fries with a tossed salad and blue cheese dressing.
There was a ceramic boat of garlic butter and captain’s wafers.
Back at the beach cottage on Alligator Point, for a reception,
we ate Spanish Bar Cake from the A&P and drank home brew
Jay made in a five-gallon bottled-water jug.
Then bride and groom departed. The crew
threw grits on us, not having any rice.
It was like beach sand in the nuptial bed.
Sunday afternoon, we drove back to the dig
and slept in the men’s bay and women’s bay areas
and Monday we went back to work shoveling dirt in the hot sun.