The Not So Big Wedding

I am a procrastinator, including and to the extent of not putting my wedding pictures in an album for more than two decades. This deficit came into high relief a couple of summers ago when my daugther, the photographer, got married.
Again, I was somewhat tardy, but only weeks, -- well, maybe a very few months -- went by before I got to the photo-album stage and dutifully recorded this charming and well-thought-out ceremony in a by-god picture album. (By that I mean the kind you can hold and flip through, not the kind on-line.)
Now, more than a year later, with a hefty album that is only one-third full of my daughter's wedding photos, and, more recently, another third full of my new grandson's first Christmas, etc., I decided to put in my own wedding photos where they could be protected and admired.
There are 60-plus photos, snapshots, really, that were captured during my 1987 wedding to Tommy.
While I see us as much the same, intrinsically, it's hard to recognize the perky and determined couple walking down the aisle. Younger, thinner versions of ourselves, of course. But also an apparent lift in our step that says 'this is just the beginning of a wonderful, eventful life.' And so it has been, so far.
Moving on to the larger family shot, my mom, in an uncharacteristic tea-length dress, smiles knowingly. Pleasant, but exuding an of-the-world attitude, as if she can predict what's in store but still seems happy to see two people whom she loves beginning their life together.
Then my dad, standing in the background, quietly smiling. On the exterior, a jolly hail-fellow sort, he remained emotionally distant most of my life -- yet in so many other ways was a steadfast presence, always there to back me up. It will be another two decades before the smoking catches up with him. My dad, Ed, died of lung cancer in 2008.
But the hardest one to look at is little Kelsey. A heart-breaker at her core, in these photos she is 4 years old and beautifully outfitted in a fancy pink dress. Her swingy blonde bob exudes cheerfulness belied by her expression -- not unpleasant but not at ease, a wary child who learned or was simply born knowing to watch out for herself. Now she seems so happy watching out for own son, Silas, who is almost 9 months old, like she was practicing for motherhood all along.
These photos are a crystal ball in reverse -- showing us the people we were before we followed the trajectory that brought us where we are today.
Those of us still on this earth are mostly still together. And good things are happening. Just maybe not the ones we had in mind as we strode so purposefully down the aisle.

Moving Hillsborough in the Right Direction


Forty years. That's how long it took to get a really unfortunate line item out of NCDOT's budget and, finally, off the radar for dozens of interest groups engaged in the drama of the proposed Hillsborough Bypass.

The bypass was conceived in 1969 as a way to reduce traffic on Churton Street in Hillsborough's historic downtown. The solution devised was an asphalt gash in the Orange County countryside that would send four lanes of traffic hurdling across the scenic Eno River near St. Mary's Road and through the 252 bucolic acres at Ayr Mount, a ca. 1815 plantation landscaped with nature walks and hiking trails.

The road also would have disturbed the site of the Occonneechee Speedway, the only track remaining from NASCAR's 1949 inaugural season and one of the important, unique attractions of Orange County, an enclave for some of the state's most creative, intellectual and historically minded people.

Underlying some of the local angst must have been the threat of losing millions in state transportation dollars. By 2009, the bypass had morphed into a $45 million project that promised an infusion of cash and a significant, if temporary, spike in business for town merchants and restaurateurs, gas station operators and others.

Despite other transportation needs the county may currently have, the money designated for the bypass is being lost without the project, which was only recently put to rest by an overwhelming coalition of opposition involving residents, environmentalists, historic preservationists and government entities, including the Durham-Chapel Hill-Carrboro Metropolitan Planning Organization.

The political stakes were high, but the outcome will prove to be right one for the future of Hillsborough and Orange County.

The small, temporary reduction in traffic counts downtown - estimated at below 20 percent of overall traffic and only for a few years' time - would have done little good in contrast to the great harm the bypass posed to Hillsborough's character and charm as a destination for those who value unique people and places.