JEANNETTE MACDONALD WEDS.

Waikato Times, Volume 121, Issue 20260, 31 July 1937, Page 17 (Supplement)

JEANNETTE MACDONALD WEDS.

A CROWD OF 15,000 : THE BRIDAL PARTY MOBBED

HOLLYWOOD, June 17. Hollywood’s “perfect pair,” Jeanette MacDonald and Gene Raymond, began their married life at some secret spot to-day, after a wedding that shattered every movie colony record for excitement, extravagance and mob scenes. They will have a Honolulu honeymoon. More than 15,000 persons massed round the fashionable Wilshire Methodist Episcopal church last night when the ceremony took place. Three hours before the appointed time, their automobiles choked every street for a mile around. By 9 p.m. the throng, cursing, sweating and struggling with 100 policemen, had clotted the boulevard so badly that It took a Herculean effort to bring a thin stream of cars through.. The jam delayed the bridesmaids 40 minutes. Inside the church, approximately 1000 top ranking stars and celebrated film figures were getting restless. As each limousine drew near, there

her place. Then the familiar “ Here Comes the Bride,” the Lohengrin wedding march, rang out.

The ushers, two by two, in conventional halting steps, started down the aisle. Rathbone had difficulty keeping step. They were followed by the bridesmaids —Ginger Rogers, Fay Wray, Mrs Richard Hargreaves, Mrs Warren Rock and Mrs John Mack Brown. Ginger’s burnished gold-red hair flickered in the dim candlelight.

■ Then came the bride, 30, a year older than the bridegroom.

She wore Mesh pink inousseline, with a redingote, long, full sleeves, a high neck and lace collar, and a tiny bouquet of flowers. The skirt was full. Her veil was pink tulle. She wore a shell-shaped lace cap; carried a gold-embroidered pink satin prayer book. Raymond, his corn-silk hair shining smiled as she came near. He held out his arm. She gripped it firmly. Woman Faints. As the service began a woman gasped and fainted. It was a single-ring service. The Rev. Willsie Martin officiated. As he intoned Hie Lord's prayer, near the end, a dull roar from the thousands outside echoed in the church. The flash of photographers’ bulbs flared against the stained glass windows. Then, Hue joyous strains of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” followed the benediction and Nelson Eddy’s second song, "Perfect Love.” The bridal couple kissed. Then they ran up the aisle.

They were stopped at the front door. It was partly opened, and the bride gasped when she saw the croxvd. Raymond rubbed the back of his gloved hand over his lips. An attendant said: "You’ll have to run for it. The police can hold ’em lons enough to get out.” The star gasped: "My train, I can’t run with il ” Some one picked it up. “Ready—go!” Crowd Fight With Police. The -doors flung open. A perfect explosion of light came from the flash bulbs. The crowd sent a wave of thunder into the skies and broke toward the car. Police fought them back, and with six motor-cycle officers in screaming escort, the couple raced away. The attendants and others were less fortunate. It was more than an hour before they broke clear of the throng. They went to Miss MacDonald’s home for the reception. It was Hollywood’s most colossal social event in history. The word "obey” was omitted from the service. Raymond’s gift to his bride was a diamond necklaoe. Her gift to him was platinum and diamond studs. Miss MacDonald wore borrowed shoes. She got them from her studio’s costume department to round out the tradition: “Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.” £SOOO In Gifts. The gifts, £SOOO worth, included champagne coolers from the Harold Lloyds, silver service plates and a chest of silver from Miss MacDonald’s two film “bosses," Louis B. Mayer and Nicholas Schenck. Few present knew or cared what was the bridegroom’s real name. It is Raymond Guion. Jeanette MacDonald’s name is her own, on the screen or off. A 90 pound wedding cake, flown by airliner from Miss MacDonald’s native city, Philadelphia, was served at the reception later.

would be a surge forward. The people wanted to see who was in it. Nelson Eddy Waited. Through the front door, they could hear the preliminary organ muslo. It went on and on. Long past the moment set, the organist played and Nelson Eddy, who was scheduled to sing, waited with resignation written on his face, In the chancel. One by one, the bridesmaids struggled through. Meanwhile, the guests, who packed every inch of the mammoth church, had time to see the decorations. Even Hollywood was awed. There were nearly 1,000,000 roses. Six candelabra, each bearing seven slender tapers, burned In the chancel. The middle aisle, bounded by pink silk ribbon along the whole length, also was lined with seven candles on a side. Friends estimated it cost £SOOO. White-gloved ushers—Harold Lloyd John Mack Brown, Allan Jones, Basil Rathbone, Warren Rock and Richard Hargreaves—escorted feminine guests to their places. Jones’ shoes squeaked. “I Love You Truly.” Finally, Nelson Eddy began to sing “I Love You Truly” as the bride’s mother, Mrs Anna MacDonald, took