45+ years ago, we got a marriage license. This does not make much sense now…but believe me, it will!
In 1974 we lived and went to an Episcopalian church where we were going to get married, in Orange County. At the last minute, the priest we were receiving (pre-marriage) Cana Classes from informed us that the Bishop’s dissolution of Skip’s first marriage was likely to be declined. In other words, the church did not feel his legal Texas divorce was valid under Episcopalian rules. The wedding I dreamed of in the Episcopalian church that I loved and grew up in, was going to be denied. However, he had a minister-friend, at a Presbyterian Church in Altamonte Springs that performed weddings for couples like us…and we did just that. If I could… I would track down that pompous Episcopalian Bishop to show him how wrong he was. I have never truly forgiven him or the church…
Fast forward to last week, while filing for Skip’s Social Security Retirement and Part B Medicare and, by the way, surviving a SS fraud scheme, we had to produce 2 more pieces of documentation to finish the process. A statement from his employer that he was indeed covered under a company health insurance, to avoid penalties for not signing up for part B during the regular enrollment period and….a certified copy of our marriage license. I insisted, that surely a certified copy of our marriage license was unnecessary since they already had 45 + years of filing and paying taxes as Married Filing Jointly on the computer in front of him. That should certainly be enough evidence of marriage! My sound reasoning fell on deaf ears! What was I thinking? This is the US government where red tape and confounding bureaucracy is the motto! We were advised, not to worry, it was easy…."go back to the county where we were married and request a certified copy at the courthouse". Back to the beginning of the story….we were married by the minister-friend of the Episcopalian priest, at St. Marks Presbyterian Church, Altamonte Springs, Seminole County. (I bet some of you have already figured out the problem that is about to occur, unfortunately, we did not!)
Seminole county said we would have to go in person to the archived records building, in a warehouse district in Sanford, out close to the airport (45 years was too long for their typical records department at the courthouse, nor were they able to confirm by phone, our records were there) …and so we followed instructions and went in person. The woman behind the desk, who looked suspiciously like a “Munchkin” and was surrounded by more than a dozen plus stuffed animals tucked in every corner of her cubicle along with miscellaneous pet rocks, opened up a drawer and pulled out a microfilm cassette marked 1974 and plugged it into a viewer. After a thorough 2-minute search announced that our marriage was not registered in Seminole County. WTF!!!! Simultaneously our brains go into overload, smoke erupting from our ears trying to figure out why our marriage was not registered when the eccentric micro-film Munchkin asked was it possible the marriage license was APPLIED for in a different county. It is NOT the county we were married in…it is the county where the marriage license was applied for..
An hour later we arrived at the huge downtown courthouse where there is no available parking within blocks, no available handicap parking anywhere and I swear, from a distance that building could be a dead ringer for the Emerald City if it were green. To make matters worse, neither of us got through the metal detector on the first pass. He for a pocket knife and I for a metal fingernail file and the defibrillator implant. Finally, through the metal detector and a courthouse pat down, we found the records office and after a short computer search by a records secretary…. there it was, our original marriage license, in the Orange County archived files!
It feels like we have been in some perverted version of the “Wizard of Oz” today. We have been in the land of Munchkins, down the yellow brick road, survived the “flying monkey" metal detector, and thrown water on the Wicked Witch of the West. She has melted, and we have the BROOM (or certified marriage license) the wizard has demanded! Now…it is back off to the Social Security office aka “the Wizard of Oz” tomorrow with our “certified marriage evidence”
…but I remember what happened in the movie! If there is a hot air balloon in front of that Social Security office….I quit!
"We're Off to See the Wizard"
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