It was now Sunday, Tammuz 15, 5723 (July 7, 1963). The day of the wedding had
arrived. The Rebbe was at the ohel today. We knew that the Rebbe would be back
before 5:00 to have the chupah on time. We were well aware that the Rebbe must
not be kept waiting. The Rebbe had said 5 o’clock, and 5 o’clock on the dot
it had to be.
For mincha, Shmuel got to use the Rebbe’s siddur as was customary.
Before the kabolas ponim, we took Hindy to visit Rebbetzin Chana.
At 3:45, the kabolas ponim was in full swing. Everything was going according
to plan. A few minutes before 5:00, the Rebbe returned from the ohel, where he
had spent most of the day fasting. Rabbi Chodakov assumed and surmised that the
chupah would now take place after mincha (later than five). He rushed into the
Rebbe’s study to obtain confirmation of this - and he rushed straight out -
shouting that the chupah will take place immediately, as arranged.
As the clock struck the hour, precisely at 5:00 p.m., the Rebbe came through
the doorway of 770 and walked down the few steps toward the canopy. The chupah
was erected in the center of the pathway leading from the door of 770 to the
sidewalk. At exactly the same moment, Hindy and her entourage walked up the few
lower steps towards the chupah, under which she and the Rebbe met at the exact
same moment. Shmuel was already there waiting.
The parents and grandparents were holding candles, and it was our intention,
as well as our duty, to walk around Shmuel seven times. There were some
bridesmaids “somewhere” (I saw them later in the photographs!). However,
where was the choson? It was a terrible and fearful task, circling the choson
pushing our way through solid masses of bochurim and men who all wanted to be
near the Rebbe at this historic event. I was covered with candle wax and at
least once we were actually standing outside the chupah!
We did see the Rebbe standing very erect under the chupah. Everyone of course
held the Rebbe in reverence and great awe; otherwise, I am afraid the Rebbe
would have not been under the chupah either. (Of course, no such reverence was
accorded the choson and kallah, or the mechutonim). It was of course a small
price to pay for such a tremendous honor and privilege of the Rebbe being
messader kiddushin.
The Rebbe recited the blessings and then all of the sheva brochos and the
ceremony was over. The time was nearly 5:15 and Shmuel and Hindy were now man
and wife.
By 5:15 when the area of the chupah was already deserted, it began to pour
torrential rain! If the chupah had been delayed for even a few minutes, everyone
would have been drenched. We were very thankful to the Rebbe for being brief and
starting the ceremony punctually.
In due course we all arrived at the hall for the dinner and dance. Everyone
sat at their allotted tables, men on one side and women at the other side of the
mechitza (partition).
The hamotzie was recited over the bread, and waiters served the first course,
the hors d’oeuvres. Suddenly the orchestra, the band, exploded into a lively
and exhilarating tune, which compelled everyone to join in the dancing.
The tables became deserted, the hors d’oeuvres left on the plates,
untouched; and with trumpets blaring, we entered into an era of non-stop,
uninterrupted dancing for the next four hours.
After twenty minutes or so the waiters came along and took away the hors d’oeuvres
and placed the next course, the fish, onto the table. Twenty minutes after that,
the fish was removed and soup substituted. So it went on until the dessert and
the coffee were served and removed.
I did mange to swallow a few mouthfuls of food in between my dances. I
noticed that one or two others did the same. But the music was so exciting and
compelling that nobody cared to miss even one moment of the dancing; but it was
very annoying and aggravating to me to see all this food, for which I was paying
good money, just simply not being eaten.
There was no doubt that all our guests were having a jolly good time. I did
my share and I believe Roselyn also danced well and continuously in the women’s
department.
At one point, I was dancing with Mendel Shemtov, who wears a seemingly small
brown beard. Well suddenly, I found that my partner had grown a long bright red
beard, which reached past his waist – unbelievable!
There was not one speech, not one word of Torah, and it took a very great
effort on my part to ensure that we had a minyan to bentch and say the sheva
brochos!