Friday’s tornadoes may have knocked out power a day and a half before their wedding May 18, but Lynnsie Balk Kantor and Doug Gilberg never considered rescheduling. The lights were out, the AC was gone, and the parking lot and neighboring streets looked like the trees had staged a protest and thrown themselves into traffic — but the couple were still getting married.
Sure, saying “love was the only power they needed” sounds like the tagline of a Lifetime movie. But in this case, it was also kind of true.
“We were getting ready to leave for the rehearsal and music rehearsal at CRC (Central Reform Congregation) with our (adult) kids, who are all musicians but have never played together before,” said Kantor, 63, a real estate agent.
“Then the sirens came. We were (at home) in Clayton, but western Clayton. We heard things flying around us, so I went up and peeked out the back door and didn’t see anything amiss. I couldn’t figure out what was making all the noise.”
After the storm let up and the sun came out 15 minutes later, the couple drove to pick up a friend in the Delmar Loop before heading to CRC. They had sustained no real damage to their home and weren’t sure what to expect.
“We were coming down Delmar and then we turned onto Skinker,” Kantor said. “That’s where we saw so much damage. Giant trees down, every light was out, traffic was at a standstill. Eventually, we said, ‘This is ridiculous. No way we’re going to get there.”
Later that afternoon, CRC Rabbi Randy Fleisher called with sobering news: The synagogue was still without power, and both its parking lot and the one at the church across the street were covered in storm debris.
The next morning, Kantor, a member of both CRC and Congregation B’nai Amoona, saw Liessa Alperin at B’nai Amoona during the aufruf, a ceremony in which the groom is called to the Torah. Alperin offered their building as a backup venue. Not long after, a text came in from Raquel Scharf-Anderson, head of the Saul Mirowitz Jewish Community School, extending the same kind offer.
officiating.
“We couldn’t have it at Mirowitz because it’s too small,” said Kantor, noting that the couple was expecting 140 guests. “We thought a lot about having it at B’nai Amoona, but we weren’t sure we could reach everyone in time to let them know about the change in venue. Besides, CRC just had the right spaces for us, and we wanted to have it there.”
As luck — and planning — would have it, the couple’s wedding planner, Osnat Snir, had a generator, with just enough juice to keep CRC’s refrigerator running. The reception was a Sunday brunch, full of dishes that didn’t require heating, and the synagogue’s architecture was designed to flood the space with natural light. Darkness wouldn’t be a problem, except, possibly the restrooms (battery-operated candles solved that dilemma).
“We knew we’d be fine without electric lighting,” said Kantor, who added that a second generator was also procured. “We weren’t going to have AC, but luckily it wasn’t that hot. And then we found out B’nai Amoona had battery-powered Bluetooth speakers we could borrow. So, music and dancing were still a go.”
Snir also gave Kantor some crucial traffic control advice: With streets still blocked by fallen trees, the only reliable route was Highway 40 (I-64) to Kingshighway.
“I put it right on our wedding website: You must take 40 to Kingshighway. No other way. Then it’s just half a block to CRC,” Kantor said. “I asked everyone to carpool or Uber, and to give themselves lots of extra time. That night, I was texting as many guests as I could.”
And while trying to figure out a way around these obstacles, Kantor also sold a house and met with a client. Because of course she did.
They held out hope the power would come back in time for their 11 a.m. ceremony. It didn’t.
That meant the synagogue’s electric retractable wall, designed to open the sanctuary into the multipurpose room, remained shut.
“We were going to open that wall and have one big space with tables wrapped around a dance floor,” said Kantor, a self-proclaimed dance enthusiast. “But the wall wouldn’t budge. So, I said, ‘No dance floor,’ which, for me, was a big capitulation.”
There were no microphones for the musicians, either, but between Gilberg’s son Nate, a sound engineer, and Kantor’s son Eitan, a professional musician, they pulled it off. The music went acoustic, people danced and joy filled the room anyway.
Kantor’s brother even brought the house down and earned a few laughs with a heartfelt rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
By Monday, as the whirlwind settled, both Kantor and Gilberg agreed: They couldn’t have imagined anything better.
“Gratitude,” said Kantor, when asked how she was feeling. “We were so fortunate that we had a team, we had so many people routing for us and offering help, there was so much love around us.”
Added Gilberg, 70, who also is a real estate agent: “It was so meaningful that we could have that magical day. The challenges just made it better.”
