Making the grade | On the road to Savannah, Georgia

BY STACEY WALLACE OPINION — On Nov. 5, 2005, I married Michael “Mike” Ralph Wallace at Orr Street Baptist Church in my hometown of Alexander City. At the time, I was 42 (almost 43), and Mike was 46; therefore, the church was packed. Some people had to sit in folding chairs in the back or in the balcony. A funny thing happened during the ceremony. When Brother George, my favorite pastor of all time, asked, “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” My sweet Daddy accidentally said, “His Mother and I,” instead of “Her Mother and I.” Shocked that he messed up his only line, I looked at Amelia, my matron of honor and my friend since kindergarten — she was silently laughing. When we were driving to Atlanta to spend our honeymoon night before we flew to the Bahamas the next day, I called