You may kiss the bride

Well, here we are in a brand new year with hopefully a brighter outlook on just about everything. The first month of this fresh year is well on its way out and by the time you read this we will be dodging Cupid’s arrows, or hiding in plain sight to be struck by same.

February is not a popular month for weddings, but it is a wonderful month to be reminded of love due to Valentine’s Day. The promise of spring is just around the corner and there is still enough winter left to cuddle up with your sweetheart in front of a nice warm fire. My offering to you this month is a story of love and one couple, faced with the uncertainties of war, going to extra-ordinary lengths to spend what precious little time they had together as man and wife. We should all be this lucky.

The summer or 1943 was hot and uncomfortable in Baltimore, Md. Pennsylvania Station on Charles St. was a beehive of armed forces activity with hundreds, if not thousands, of servicemen and women scurrying about on their way to or from the trains that would take them away from, or back to, their families and loved ones. This scene was repeated at every railroad station across the land, large or small, with kisses, hugs and many tears shed.

The management of the Pennsylvania Railroad, out of patriotism and a desire to do something decent for these servicemen, built a USO style serviceman’s lounge off of the east wing of the station. This was a small oasis in the undulating sea of humanity that constantly buzzed about during that early part of WWII. Here they would find a small library and a quiet reading room, writing tables, a mailbox, telephones and a snack bar.

But, on July 25, 1943, anyone in the vicinity would bear witness to the first and, as far as I know, the only wedding to be officiated at the servicemen’s lounge inside Baltimore’s Penn Station. Sgt. Raymond Schultytes and Catherine Weidefeld, both of Baltimore, were to be married at St. John’s Catholic Church early that same Saturday afternoon. They would then catch a train later in the afternoon to New York for their honeymoon before the Sergeant was to ship out. Due to snafus that can occur when travelling across country during wartime conditions, the Sergeant’s train was many hours late getting into Baltimore and the wedding was in danger of not happening. Not to be daunted, other, more immediate arrangements were made. Father Thomas from St. John’s and the entire wedding party rushed to the station to meet the train. Since there was no time to get to St. John’s and back to catch their train to New York, they were granted permission by the stationmaster to use the servicemen’s lounge right there in Penn Station. As soon as Sgt. Raymond Schultytes descended to the platform from his late arriving train, he was rushed to the lounge where he and his fiancée, Catherine Weidefeld, with friends, their families and hundreds of fellow servicemen as witnesses, were joined together in holy matrimony by Father Thomas Zichand. “I now pronounce you man and wife,” Father Thomas joyfully announced, “And, you may kiss the bride.” Father Thomas then added,”I am honored to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Schultytes.”

The ever increasing throng of servicemen, from every corner of Penn Station there in Baltimore on this hot summer day in 1943, loudly applauded and wished well to this couple, whose impromptu nuptials they were given privilege to witness.

In keeping with tradition then, as is also traditional to this day, the good Father invited those in attendance to kiss the bride. The servicemen formed a line and until it was time to catch their honeymoon train to New York, Mrs. Catherine Schultytes received the traditional and respectful kiss on the cheek from at least half of the armed forces that happened to be departing, arriving or changing trains on the afternoon of July 25, 1943 at Penn Station in Baltimore. A truly unforgettable beginning.