Epidemic prompts rush to the altar — from a distance
The wedding of Reese Lichtenstein and Cory Lubarsky, scheduled for May 25, was always going to be a lowkey affair, even with 150 guests. There would be beer and banh mi on the patio of a local brewery, and compostable plates rather than elaborate tablescapes. Lichtenstein, the bride, was especially excited for the photo booth.
Then came the novel coronavirus — and the event became
very low key. On March 20, the couple wed in front of six friends at the overlook outside the UC Berkeley Lawrence Hall of Science. One of the friends, having been ordained online for a previous wedding, officiated. Guests brought their own cups for Champagne, for fear of germs; the cups went mostly unclinked. The bride and groom’s families watched remotely from phones held aloft. Most had received their invitations to the original fete just a couple of days before.
“We stood 6 feet apart and hung out for a bit and drank our Champagne and then we all left,” Lichtenstein said of the hastily planned nuptials.
COVID19 and the response to it have wreaked havoc on the springtime wedding plans of countless couples, and along the way turned the $3 billion industry into a tangled mass of logistical nightmares. Many couples have rescheduled their weddings for the fall, or later, and put the entire planning process — venue visits, dress fittings, menu selections — on hold.
Some, like Lichtenstein and Lubarsky, have moved their timelines way, way up. It wasn’t exactly the wedding of their dreams, but getting hitched seemed like the right thing to do, given the climate of fear and uncertainty. The pair, who met at Oakland’s popular macandcheese restaurant, Homeroom, were more recently general manager at State Bird Provisions (him), and a nanny and personal chef (her). Both were laid off in the wake of the coronavirus crisis.
“If, God forbid, anything happened and if one of us was hospitalized, we didn’t want there to be any issues with us not being married,” Lichtenstein said. “It is a little morbid, but it’s the world we live in right now.”
Other betrothed couples, especially those with March weddings, have gone ahead, but at a drastically reduced scale.
“I can’t emphasize how fast this happened,” said Lauren Geissler, a wedding planner at Downey Street Events in San Francisco, of a March 14 wedding she had to completely overhaul — twice, within a week — in response to the fastchanging regulations and health guidance. “We’ve moved weddings before due to wildfire, and I have experience with all types of crazy situations, but the speed at which this happened was truly shocking.”
Rushing to the altar might not be an option for couples who haven’t already procured their marriage licenses. A representative of San Francisco County told The Chronicle that the clerk is not currently issuing marriage licenses, which require an inservice application process, during shelter in place. Bad news, romantics: Marriage licenses are not an essential service.
For Megan Bundy and Mark Loeswick, who had planned to marry March 21 in Nevada City, the honeymoon was first to go. By midMarch, a trip to Costa Rica, or anywhere that involved a plane, didn’t look romantic at all. Soon after came the regime of social distancing. Out went the wedding and rehearsal dinner, each with a guest list of 45.
The venue was canceled. The photographer was canceled. The hairandmakeup stylist was canceled, too — her job couldn’t be done from 6 feet away.
Though frustrated and at times overwhelmed, the couple were determined to stick with their date. In the end, a family friend with a house in Nevada City offered to host. Only immediate family were invited to the tiny ceremony on the porch, officiated by the groom’s brother. There was snow in the distance.
“Despite all the stress, it ended up really beautiful,” said Bundy.
She did the hair and makeup herself, and family members took the photos.
Some couples, especially now, might feel relieved at the opportunity to downsize their weddings. Bundy and Loeswick recently left managerial posts at San Francisco restaurants and never wanted a bigbudget affair anyway, said Bundy. “Our marriage was much more important than the wedding.”
Lichtenstein, for her part, said she and her husband might host an Ido redo when the pandemic passes. She still wants Jewish ceremonial elements, the physical presence of her parents, and that photo booth.
There’s something else the newlywed craves — the congratulatory embraces of her nearest and dearest.
“I’m a hugger,” said Lichtenstein, “and it was really hard that we couldn’t hug our friends.”