Lee & Jacki
Est. 2013
Everyone loves a good engagement story.
I've heard quite a few over the years, and they are always exciting to hear for the first time. As a wedding photographer, I've received numerous
calls from jubilant fiancées, still fresh out of shock, bubbling over about the
ring that just landed on their finger. And you aren't fooling anyone if you
tell me you've never watched a few YouTube triumphs (or disasters)
involving proposals and the massive effort that goes into making them not only
memorable and unsuspected, but one-of-a-kind. Some of the proposals out there
on the Interweb are downright jaw-dropping. Suitors, desperate to be grooms, go
to all kinds of extremes in order to pop the
question. Much like the mating habits of peacocks, men seem to think that only
the most extravagantly plumaged proposal can win. Therefore, everything from
law enforcement officers to giant elephants to entire stadiums of human beings
have been enlisted in the name of love to secure that precious 'yes'. Some
women want a Broadway show to unfold before their eyes; others threaten their
man’s life if they ever try to pull a public spectacle. So when it came time to
propose to Jacki, I knew it would have to be just right.
So buckle up. This is the story of how it all went down...
Phase One: The Father
In Jacki’s case, I knew she would not want much fanfare to
accompany the question. No skydivers jumping in from the stratosphere, no
marching bands announcing my intentions, and please,
she begged me, nothing involving finding the ring at the bottom of her favorite
food or beverage. My goofball classmates in my doctorate program wanted me to
ride across an open field in a suit of armor on a horse. Too....extreme.
My colleagues at the hospital went a step further and suggested drizzling her
name in kerosene and emblazoning it in fire across a hillside. Too...dangerous.
I knew none of these scenarios would fit Jacki, not to mention my inability to
ride a horse, let alone breathe in a suit of armor. Actually, it made me feel
even better about asking her, knowing she wanted a simple and sentimental
proposal. That’s the kind of girl I wanted to marry anyhow.
In the end, the most difficult part of our proposal would be
pulling it off as a surprise. Jacki had already been on the lookout for months
now, channeling her inner Gollum, watching for any subtle signs that The
Precious was in my possession. But I was expecting that, and so appropriate
precautions were taken. The first step was meeting with her father, Bob. We
made arrangements to meet at a diner outside of town that most people don’t
even know exists. In fact, it was the same clandestine meeting place where my
brother-in-law, Ken, met my father to ask for my sister's hand.
Site of the
secret meeting.
By this time, of course, Bob knew the question was a long time
coming. Plus, I’ve never asked him to breakfast before. So there was no shocked
expression when my nervous words finally tumbled out halfway through breakfast.
He was ready for it.
“Yes, of course you can ask her.”
Phew. With that big
question out of the way, we moved on to discuss timing and the plan and
the ring, and most importantly, an oath of complete secrecy. Bob agreed that
the plan should remain absolutely classified at all costs. Phase One was
complete.
Phase Two: The Ring
Now it came time to shop for a ring.
For those of you who have never done so, I’ll give you the best,
most straightforward advice: start saving your money now. For all men who have
taken the plunge before, you know the drill. You know that stupid feeling you
get inside when a jeweler starts talking to you about “the Four C’s”. You know
the lies you tell you start agreeing that “oh yeah, this one does sparkle a lot more than that one”.
You know the sweat that starts accumulating on your forehead when the
calculator finally comes out. It’s all a giant charade, the diamond business.
But tradition demands a diamond, so just surrender your wallet at the
door.
After a staggering amount of research, I found that there’s no
honest way around the expense of a quality ring, and that protecting its
existence was the most solid investment. Once you've settled that
fact in your mind, you can turn ring shopping into a mental game against the
jeweler. You can at least make them squirm for a change, and with your
newly acquired Internet education, turn the tables a little bit. Feigning
disdain for the rocks presented to me by various salesmen became sport to me…
“Yes, Steve, I understand what you’re saying about the clarity of
the solitaire, but to be honest, I’m just not satisfied with the color grading.
And I’m less than thrilled with the carat weight. Is there any coffee? We’re
gonna be here for a while.”
In the end, a very helpful diamond specialist named John helped
me land on a very shiny stone, and we picked a beautiful setting that came
together to make this…
The finished product.
Like Jacki, the ring was classic and gorgeous. I was extremely
pleased with the ring, and now that it was burning a hole in my pocket, I
couldn't wait to get to Phase Three.
Phase Three: The Proposal
The final part of the process was the most difficult one to plan.
When and where to propose: these are two most difficult elements for any
suitor. I had plenty of ideas that would work, but I was looking for one that
wrapped up all the ingredients of our relationship into one special moment. As
all of you know by now, I settled on Ligonier for the location. Honestly, as
soon as the thought occurred to me, I knew that was the plan. People kept
asking me if there was a Plan B. Quite simply, no. There was no Plan B. Only
Plan A: It was Ligonier, or Bust.
One of America's greatest small towns.
So why Ligonier?
Well, first off, if you haven’t been up to this little town in the
Laurel Highlands, you’re missing something great. There are few places in this
part of the country that have remained exactly the same, decade after decade.
Ligonier is one of those treasures. This harbored vestige of Americana holds
even greater sentimental value to me, being the hometown of my grandparents,
Robert and Claire Knox. While they were alive, Ligonier was the destination of
many family trips, particularly around the holidays.
Ligonier holds nothing but good memories for me, and every time I
go back, everything is just as I left it. President Eisenhower visited the town
during its bicentennial celebration, and my mother has a photo of her and her
sister all dressed up to wave at him in the parade. The section of Lincoln
Highway that he rode along is exactly the same today as it was then. There’s
such a sense of national history there, much of it thanks to Fort Ligonier and
the battle that happened there. But more than that, it’s the family history of
the town that makes it feel like home. My mother’s high school is still up on
the hill above town. The homes and businesses are still up and running. And my
grandparent’s old apartment building hasn't changed one bit.
The old homestead.
I drove up to Ligonier a couple weeks before the proposal, just to
make sure that no developer had come in and dug up Gee-Gee and Pa-Pa's field
that we used to play in as kids. Of course, the field didn't actually
belong to them. They were just tenants of the property. But when you’re a kid
and your grandparents have a huge backyard, you certainly believe it’s their field. So technically,
I would be trespassing on private property in order to propose to Jacki, but I
was willing to take the risk. I know Ligonier well enough by now. There are
very few people there crabby enough to care.
Sure enough, I arrived at the field that evening to find it every
bit as big and flat as I had remembered it.
Me on my scouting expedition last month.
There’s a nice feeling you get when everything that you remember about a place
as a child is still exactly the same. It's a special thing to have a place in
the world where the wind does little more than bring back a powerful rush of
the very best memories.
Here’s just a few portholes into the past for you, to give you some reference
for my nostalgia…
This is the view from my grandparent's
backyard in 1986.
Not much has changed since then.
Here is my very pregnant mother in
1987.
I guess this was my very first trip to the
field, albeit in utero.
And here is the whole Knox clan up at
Gee-Gee's,
a daughter on each side with their
young families.
So I left the field that night absolutely convinced that there
would be no better place in the world to propose to the love of my life. This
was definitely the spot.
A couple weeks later, my Mazda climbed the hill to Gee-Gee and
Pa-Pa’s house once again, this time with a beautiful young woman riding
shotgun, blissfully unaware that today was her last day of courtship. She was
already in love with the town, this being her first trip to Fort Ligonier Days.
I had told her earlier in the day that I had an idea for my annual Christmas
card photograph, and such was the reason for our trek across town to the old
apartment. Since I’m always spouting off some new idea for a great photograph,
Jacki never once suspected that there was a ring in my camera bag.
We walked out into the field with my equipment, and Jacki shivered
in the wind as I set up the tripod. “Okay I need you to walk out about 20 yards
so I can frame this shot.” She trotted off, happy to assist, and then looked
back at me.
This was it. No turning back now. So I took a deep breath, pressed
the ‘Record’ button on the camera, and walked out. In a matter of seconds, all
of the planning, all of the praying, all of the patience…..all of it finally
paid off when she finally looked down, saw the ring…
...and said yes.
Actually, to be historically accurate, it was more like
“YES!! YES!!! OHMYGOSH YES!!”
We hugged and kissed and did all that mushy stuff that newly
engaged lovebirds do. The ring slid on just perfectly. It was a beautiful
moment. I was proud of it. That place was now even more special than it was
before. A memorial of my past was now a celebrated part of our future.
As we walked back to the car, just when I thought things could not
have gone any better, one of those magical unplanned moments happened. An
elderly couple was walking slowly down the sidewalk, giving us some curious
looks. I walked over to explain why we were on the property and introduce
ourselves. Tom and Sharon seemed like lovely people, and when I told them we
had just gotten engaged, they just about fell over.
Our new friend Tom loved the ring, too.
Proposed in their backyard?! But why??
This kind of thing had obviously never happened here before!
So we told them the whole story, at which point Tom insisted that Jacki and I
come inside and see how well he had taken care of my grandparent's old home. I
was afraid to go inside at first, not wanting anything to be different. But I
couldn’t resist showing Jacki where we spent so many Christmases growing up.
And wouldn't you know, just like the field outside, not a thing about
the apartment had changed.
This is how I remembered Gee-Gee and Pa-Pa's place....
Here I am inspecting the contents of Gee-Gee's cupboards.
And here we all are a few years later with
Gee-Gee,
probably making the traditional birthday
cake for Jesus.
Here it is today.
Same
cupboards. Same smells. Same memories.
We chatted with Tom and Sharon for a few minutes, though the
conversation mostly consisted of me spitting out as many memories as I could
think of. As we left the apartment out the back door, I thought of how happy my
grandparents would have been on this day, and I could not have been happier
with my decision to propose here.
I would have wanted Gee-Gee to watch it all happen from her
kitchen window.
So there you have it.
Our full engagement story, start to finish, with all
the details that women clamor for and men never recall. In fact, that’s
really the reason I wanted to write all of these details down, not only to
share it with all of you, but also to help me remember all the effort and love
that went into my proposal to my wife, Jacki. If you haven’t met her yet, you
will soon. And when you do, you’ll see right away why she was worth every
minute and every penny and every tear and every embrace and every letter and
and every laugh and every decision that went into getting that precious ring on
her finger. I wanted to write this down so that the winds of life would never
blow hard enough to erase any part of the long-awaited finale of our courtship.
And so Gee-Gee and Pa-Pa’s field holds another treasured moment,
preserved by photographs, and held in our hearts forever.
Just like they are.
We can't wait to celebrate with you all on April 26th. Just six short months
from today.
See you there.
.JPG)
