I love to put on my minister hat and meet wedding couples in the Gilpin Court House over in Central City. It's the most friendly and informal place in Colorado to pick up that required piece of paper.
I love to put on my minister hat and meet wedding couples in the Gilpin Court House over in Central City. It's the most friendly and informal place in Colorado to pick up that required piece of paper. There is almost never any kind of line there either. Alas, one couple I'm officiating for next month decided to “save time” and stop by their local “flat land” office to get the license. They spent (they said) and hour and a half in line. Maybe it just seemed that long to them, but they could be correct. Of course the other advantage to Central City is the availability of close by places to have lunch and discuss wedding plans. It's all a most pleasant part of my officiant's responsibility.
A wedding license is good for 30 days, so that's also a good day to meet and talk about the ceremony details. Thirty days out from “the big day” the whole thing is looking very real. When we met this week we had another advantage, lots of laughs. We all ended up sitting around the coffee urn in the clerk's office and talking about the upcoming ceremony. The bride explained her colors and the groom talked about the menu. It was fun. We all laughed as I described some of the funny things that had happened in that very situation
One day when I was sitting at that same coffee urn with a couple about to get married the bride said, “Oops, I forgot, I was divorced once.” She really had forgotten about all that. Of course she had to secure and date and place of her divorce to proceed. Fortunately she made a few calls and got that data. Both the groom and I had a few chuckles about her forgetfulness and insisted she check her day timer. We didn't want her to forget her wedding date! They've been happily married for about five years and I doubt she'll forget her wedding anniversary. She did forget to send me a picture to put up on the “wedding news” part of my web site. But, just this week, she promised again not to forget that. Some of us do get a little forgetful.
Another time we were sitting down, yet again, at the coffee pot in the clerk's office when the question of dogs came up. This couple was going to get married at a really lovely spot in Boulder Canyon, a “wild game” restaurant which used to be called The Bluebird Inn. The outside ceremony was going to feature their dog, a yellow lab, bringing in the rings. We had a few chuckles about that. The groom suddenly realized that their dog had no license and that was required by the restaurant. We decided to move quickly and get the second license of the day. I got my picture taken with the dog.
One of the most memorable wedding license stories concerns an African-American couple. They came to Central City to get their license in part because of history. During the days of slavery Central City, indeed all of Colorado Territory, was one of the safe havens for escaped and freed slaves. Out here in “the territories” slaves were not subject to the threat of being taken back to the old plantation, or the old northern work house for that matter (There were slaves held in the north too). Once taken back to “the states”, even for an unpaid debt, black folks were subject to harsh penalties. Black folks who did get to Colorado often made very good lives for themselves. A good example of that is Aunt Clara Brown. She came to Central City as a washerwoman and ended up one of the richest women in the Colorado Territory. If you get a chance to see the opera about her life don't miss it.
It's not likely that these African-American couples got actual wedding licenses, however. Indeed many couples never bothered with that formality out here on the
frontier. Instead of getting a license African-American couples “jumped the broom”. Friends would gather around and a ceremony would happen. Then they'd jump over a broom and be declared married. That sunny spring day our county clerk and her deputy held up a broom on the front lawn of the court house. I said the old words. They said “I do”. The bride, in her long white satin dress, holding a bouquet of lilies, and the groom in his tux made a lovely tableau. The photographer at the ready, they jumped, high! Everyone burst out laughing because she had to hike that white satin dress well up to do the jump. They made it over the broom and lived happily ever after.
I know folks who do not believe in wedding licenses. They point out that under Colorado law all they have to do is live together and they are just as married as if they'd gotten a license. They certainly have a point, but problems can arise. I'm aware, first hand, of “one of those situations”. They were a very loving couple and had a nice indoor cat. Anyway, this time they had to hurriedly get a wedding license which I signed on the steps. The whole matter had to do with what entity would pay (or deny) an insurance claim that had been originally denied because the couple was not married. I'm no lawyer, but apparently it didn't work. I do know they did wish they'd signed that piece of paper.
Probably my funniest wedding story concerns a run away bride. I met the groom as arranged at eleven in the court house in Central City. We talked for a time about what we'd have for lunch and where. By 11:45 he'd still not been able to locate her. At breakfast that morning she'd joked about being a “runaway bride”, and had walked out wearing her running shoes and carrying a bag. Maybe she was serious! At last everybody figured it out. She'd been waiting at the Justice Center on Highway 46 and hadn't come to the old Court House in Central City. We had a good laugh.
If you're planning on getting a wedding license there's no nicer place that the Gilpin County Court House in Central City. Even if you're not planning on it, you never know.