The Chris Moeller Archives

The Wedding of the Century

The following are news stories that Londoners just might be reading in their local papers six months from now. Time will tell. (Editor's note: reporters from ABC News and the Washington Post, USA, also contributed):

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From coast to coast, on British and U.S. airlines alike, Britons are heading to the United States in droves.

An estimated 600,000 tourists are expected in Cedar Rapids, Iowa this week because of the wedding of a pair of commoners, and many of them are from Great Britain. The number of Brits visiting Cedar Rapids is up 20 percent this month, thanks to Aaron Moeller and Alexandra Shouse, tourism experts say.

Linda Troy of Bristol is among them.

"I've followed Aaron since he was born," Troy said. "When Joyce died, I really wanted to see him find a woman and fall in love and get married. When this happened, I was like, 'Cheers.'"

Troy's fascination with the Moeller family began 35 years ago when she found herself backpacking across Iowa on the eve of the Moeller twins' birth. The purchase of a few trinkets quickly blossomed into a sizable collection.

For Troy, being in Cedar Rapids during the wedding was something she had to do.

"I want to feel the crowds. It's going to be quite posh," Troy said. "It would be a great honour to come back here and say, 'Oh, we were there."

Also heading to Cedar Rapids are Annie and Simon White of Sheffield. "I think it's going to be a bloody brilliant party," Annie White said. "That's why I'm coming along."

The couple bought their plane tickets for Cedar Rapids soon after the engagement was announced. Now, the self-described Moeller watchers have turned their women's clothing and accessories store called The Blue Door Boutique into one that specializes in Shouse-themed fashions.

"I owe her a big thank you," White said. "Anything we bill as an Alex item instantly sells out."

This will be a pleasure trip for the Whites but a business venture for Julie Campbell of Swansea, who's a wedding planner. "The wedding is going to be the wedding of the century," she said. "It's going to impact our industry for years to come."

Campbell is bringing -- or shall we say dragging -- her husband and two sons along.

"I think my husband would prefer to be in a bar having an ale and watching it on the telly, and we're all very knackered from the trip already. Cheeky wanker quid bollocks," said Campbell, who will use the event as research for work.

For most English tourists, the journey won't come cheap. Round trip tickets start at about 800 pounds and hotel rooms can cost several hundred a night.

But those looking to cut costs can rough it at Ellis Park, Cedar Rapids' official wedding camping area. For 121 pounds, travelers can camp for three nights and have access to hot showers, a clean loo and free tea. They can also glam up that experience by renting luxury tents -- complete with service -- that start at about 3,000 pounds for half a fortnight.

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"Just wait and see what I got,” says Tiffany Cook. She is standing outside of Lindale Mall in her sundress; she is holding a plastic bag of loot. “I got about 70 pounds of Aaron and Alex merchandise." The wedding coasters, the coffee mugs, the playing cards, the oversize pen. She bought it all at Spencer's Gifts. She found all this stuff, and while the cash­ier was ringing up the original stuff, she rummaged around on the counter and found more stuff. Hard evidence for the folks back home in Manchester.

Cook knows this is a ridiculous display of excess. She feels it is her duty as a Brit.

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Halloween ended, and the tourists began. A recent news poll said that only 6 percent of Britons were “very interested” in the wedding. The ones who have bothered to cross an ocean — to watch in person what will probably look better on television - are the top echelon of that small percentage. Not merely British tourists, but Advanced Placement Yankeephiles. The AP Yankeephile can tell you what a corn dog is and where to buy one, and how “circle” means “circus,” and "french fries" means "chips." For the AP Yankeephile, traveling to the wedding is much like returning to the womb.

“Within two hours of seeing the date announced on 'The Morning Show' — ” begins Marcia Anderson.

"Well, you saw it on that programme, I saw it on ‘Good Morning United Kingdom,’" her friend Denise Callegari interjects.

“Right. Within two hours, we had booked four different hotels around different Cedar Rapids neighbourhoods.”

Bases had to be covered. What if Aaron and Alex got married at the Moeller farm? What if they got married at Squaw Creek Park?

When Squaw Creek was announced, they renounced all other options and went with the one in downtown Marion. Anderson and Callegari, from Birmingham, are joined by Anderson’s twin, and two friends. The extra bodies were necessary because the group plans to spend the days preceding the wedding sleeping on the parade route — in shifts, in sleeping bags — to secure a good spot. They have also brought a collapsible table. And chairs. And signs. And hats.

Today, their main objective is to locate the real estate in the downtown parade route along 1st Avenue.

“This used to be Killian's Department Store,” one member of the groups says.

“This is where Aaron II — ” says Anderson.

“Aaron I,” corrects her friend.

“Was beheaded.” The only Moeller to die that way.

Anderson proclaims that she will always be able to say, I was there. I saw history. I wore a rosette with Aaron and Alex's faces on it.

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Scene:

A man and a woman appear near the bus centre on 2nd Street, consulting a map.

“I think this is the way to Hee-ah-wath-ah,” says a man in the British dad/tourist uniform of a polo shirt and khaki cargo shorts.

“I told you, Franklin, it’s pronounced Hi-ah-wath-ah. Don’t embarrass me.”

Franklin sighs. Franklin has been warned about this before.

Brits attack the wedding with such fortitude.

Alexandra Pez dispensers? Aaron bobbleheads? Too much? Not for the British it’s not.

“Here’s what you do,” offers Kim Clark from South London, explaining how to get the most out of an excursion to Cedar Rapids. She has to leave the day before the wedding, but plans to work the city while she can. “You go to Von Maur and Lindale Mall, but go to the food court.” The food court is reasonably priced, she says, “and you still get the Von Maur bag! It’s a travel secret.” Buy one Orange Julius, you get the same bag as if you buy a $200 pair of shoes. “You got to have the bag.”

People say that what enthralls the British about the wedding is the fairy-tale aspect, but they are probably also envious of the spectacle. Even Great Britain, with its extraordinary history and capabilities for pageantry, cannot have a Moeller wedding. Not unless we crown a Moeller.

The British bring to the wedding a sense of wonder. And kitsch. And a willingness to be a little demure and a little bit formal, the way the British do.

In the middle of scouting for the ideal spot to plop, the quintet of women from London pass the Grant Wood Studio and Visitor's Center, where a name-tagged retiree directs foot traffic in and out of the smallish facility.

“Excuse me, was Wood's mother the sitting model for the piece "Woman with Plants"? Anderson asks, referring to one of the artist's most famous paintings.

The volunteer is busy reading the latest issue of Midwest Living and does not answer.

“Was Hattie Weaver Wood the model for this piece?” she asks again, sweetly and earnestly. “Excuse me?”

He can see he will not shake her. He looks down at the British woman. And he nods.

posted by CM @ 12:00 AM