Hitched with hardly a hitch

WILMINGTON -- In Angie Hamm's wedding fantasy -- the one that has come to mind a hundred times since she agreed last November to marry James Tew -- it is late on a sunny afternoon in a lush garden. Elegantly dressed guests have settled into their seats and a dozen bridesmaids and groomsmen are in place when, finally, the bride emerges, a vision in a long-trained ivory dress.

Everyone turns around to look.

Hamm's fantasy began to unravel last week as Tropical Storm Hanna threatened to crash the party, tossing aside months of planning as it would throw tree branches into the streets of Wilmington.

The couple had found the perfect cake and chosen flowers: yellow calla lilies for Hamm, white ones for her attendants. They had lined up a caterer, settled on roast beef and marinated chicken. They had hired a company to set up chairs for the ceremony and a tent for the reception. James and Angie's first dance would be to Otis Redding's "These Arms of Mine." Two hundred people promised to come.

What they hadn't planned for was a possible hurricane.

"We thought about the fact that it was the anniversary of Hurricane Fran in 1996 when we picked the date," Tew said Friday as Hanna was spinning off the coast of Florida. Fran blew in on the night of Sept. 5 that year, causing major damage from Brunswick County to the Triangle.

But the couple, both 28 and both employed by Wachovia Mortgage in Wilmington, especially wanted to wed in Airlie Gardens, and Sept. 6 was the only date available until November.

Besides, Hamm said, "I just didn't think it would happen again on the same day."

Just one problem ...

Friday morning, as the storm drew closer and Hamm grew more anxious, her groom got on the phone. The caterer, the band, the guys with the tent and the chairs, all said they could switch to Sunday if it came to that. Most of the couple's family lives in North Carolina, so they too could switch dates with little trouble. The only problem was that Tew couldn't get a sure answer from Airlie Gardens on whether it would be available.

Other weddings scheduled around the area for Saturday also had been scrambled. One planned for 10 a.m. on the beach at Wrightsville was hastily brought indoors, to a church. Another bride had to scrap plans to arrive for her ceremony by a boat on the Intracoastal Waterway.

Like them, Hamm and Tew would still be husband and wife if they had to change their plans, say their vows not under the distinctive pergola but inside a building that meant nothing to them. But that wasn't how Hamm had pictured it.

At 3 p.m. Friday Airlie Gardens closed because of the storm. The Web site said only that the gardens would remain closed until officials deemed them safe to reopen.

So the rehearsal was moved into a hotel conference room. At the dinner afterward, Tew, in khaki slacks and flip-flops, was cool about prospects for the next day.

"It'll be fine," he said. "This thing will blow out of here."

His future in-laws, sitting at another table, prayed he was right.

Friday night, it rained, and it blew, and it blew. Saturday morning, the wind was still blowing.

At 11 a.m., six hours before the wedding, no one answered the phone at Airlie Gardens. A tree blown down across the entrance road had been cleared and stacked like cordwood, but the white-painted iron gate remained locked. The Web site still said the gardens would be closed until further notice. Inside, crews were picking up tree limbs and scattered tangles of Spanish moss.

But at 1:30 p.m., a pleasant female voice answered the phone and said the park was open. The wedding was on.

By 2 p.m., the tent was up, the tables and chairs arranged. The caterer would arrive at 4.

"Everything will be exactly like we planned it," Tew said.

And it was. As Hamm floated in, her dress trailing across the grass, everyone turned to look.