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One more favorite anecdote, frequently illustrated with this drawing, concerned such
weddings (one involving Collyer's son) that were planned before the fire and went on in spite
of everything. Unable now to obtain a caterer, flowers, trousseau, license, and perhaps
even a clergyman, the bride shows her pluck and character, as well as her "exceeding
sweetness and womanliness," by fashioning a dignified ceremony from the humble
possibilities available. In a story that appeared in the New York Tribune and was reprinted
in several other places, one Chicago bride makes a cloth-covered soapbox do as an altar, on
which she places a slop jar filled with a "bouquet" of autumn leaves. The story followed
typical society page conventions in describing the bridal gown, but now the point was the
way its modesty demonstrated the bride's (and Chicago's) resourcefulness, sincerity, and
resilience. Mrs. Anna Higginson told of a ceremony the Thursday after the fire at which
the bride wore "a white petticoat with a morning dress looped over it, and departed on her
wedding trip with her 'trousseau' tied up in a pillow case." The Tribune reporter confessed
that he had never seen, "among rich or poor, a sweeter and more holy-seeming wedding,"
which ended with the whole congregation dropping to their knees to thank God for their
preservation, their "broken voices and tender heartfelt tones attest[ing] to the reality of the
service." Conversing cheerfully with each other at a "marriage feast" of water and warm
biscuit, "all felt that to be poor in such good company robbed ruin of half its sting."
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