Couple ties the knot at Wright Park, amid coronavirus outbreak. ‘We just rolled with it’
The bride and groom stood together, near the pond at Wright Park, in the shade of a weeping willow tree.
One-time high school sweethearts, Cornelius Epling and the soon-to-be Tara Schnitzer-Epling had been waiting for this moment for a long time.
After 17 years together, they chose the first day of spring to finally tie the knot.
“The first day of spring brings everything new,” Tara said Thursday, shortly after Pierce County District Court Judge Kevin McCann pronounced the couple man and wife.
The newlyweds chose March 19 for their wedding many months ago, they said.
What they didn’t bargain for, of course — and could have never anticipated — was matrimony during a global pandemic.
Originally, they planned to get married at the courthouse.
Like everyone, coronavirus forced them to adjust their plans.
“The first day I met him I told him that he was going to love me for the rest of his life,” Tara recalled, describing her attraction to Cornelius as love at first sight.
“We just rolled with it,” she said of the decision to follow through with the wedding amid an outbreak that’s brought so many facets of life to a halt.
The small, simple ceremony, which included the couple’s 8-year-old son Ocean as ring bearer, provided a welcome respite from the grief and anxiety that have become nearly inescapable.
Together, the family wore black Converse.
Cornelius, who works in drywall and construction, dawned a black tuxedo t-shirt and long dreadlocks.
With red hair and tattoos, Tara, a special education instructor, acknowledged the proceeding was a little “punk rock,” by design.
“It will be something we really remember,” she said.
“Weddings are always fun, but this one’s memorable.” McCann agreed, after officiating the proceeding in his long black robe.
“It’s a weird time we’re in right now. Every time you turn on the news or listen to the radio it’s just kind of doom and gloom,” the judge said.
“So this is just special. It seemed like everything came together so wonderfully for them.”
As McCann led the couple through their vows, a visible lump appeared in Cornelius’s throat.
His eyes grew wet, and a moment later, Tara reached for Ocean.
Soon all three were holding hands.
“I’m a very sentimental person. Hard as nails on the outside, but I’m a teddy bear on the inside,” Cornelius said. “I care very much for my family.”
At a nearby picnic table, by coincidence, Nick Jarmon gently strummed jazz on his guitar, filling the sun-drenched park — and the wedding — with music.
As Tara, Cornelius and Ocean stood by the edge of the pond, the guitarist was joined by trumpeter Kendan Worley.
The duo set up in the park, Worley said, because there were “no gigs, man.”
He wore disposable gloves as a precaution.
Before heading over the Wright Park pedestrian bridge with their son, Tara and Cornelius said not letting coronavirus stop them was important.
“I was just thinking, ‘We’re doing it, and how much I love him,’” Tara said.
“Love prevails.”
