It was June 30th 1891 and raining. To the older members of our family little more needs be said than that "Mr. Smith was there." Large, jolly, entertaining "Mr. Smith." In other words, Reverend George W. Smith, pastor of Highland church off and on for about 25 years. The occasion was Aunt Jennie's wedding. Uncle Sam Gilliland had come, a dashing young figure in our young lives. He hailed from Missouri, drove Old Min to a road cart and we all loved to see that animal prance when he was ready to go. No harm would be done as long as she was hitched only to a two-wheeled cart.
The bridal pair stood at the "front door" where the south front window now is in the Grandpa Speer home. That was before the door was put in the south and the window in the east.
After Mr. Smith had married them (the ceremony I do not remember at all), everyone was kissing Aunt Jennie and I came along in line. So she stooped down and kissed me and called me her Doddo. The older members of the family will remember all about that also.
That is about all I can remember about the wedding for, as I have mentioned, this was 1891 and my birth year had been 1888.