Wrapped in tradition: a union of two people, their families and clans
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Is the bride carried in on a deer-skin-covered platform? Does the groom dance down the aisle, depicting the gliding motions of an eagle? Does the best man wear a headdress combining rabbit fur, sea lion whiskers, ermine skins, a carved wolf and — as a modern touch — a small Superman logo?
These were among the many details and traditions, some dating back more than a century, at the daylong wedding Saturday at Tillicum Village between David Boxley, 52, and Lorene Hanlon, 33, both of the Kingston area.
Boxley is an internationally known Indian artist dedicated to reviving and continuing traditions of his native Tsimshian people of Southeast Alaska and British Columbia. Hanlon, of the Tlingit tribe of Alaska, is a dancer, weaver, bead-worker and native-language instructor.
Both explore their cultures not just to put them in museum displays, but to incorporate them into their daily lives and significant occasions. More than 200 attended their wedding.
"I teased David at the very beginning," said Hanlon in the days leading up to the ceremony. "I told him we could just go to Las Vegas and get married by Elvis and that would be easier. But that was just kidding."
The two had known of each other for years because both had been active in native dance groups. But they didn't actually meet until about two years ago and quickly felt a deep attachment, becoming engaged nine months ago, Hanlon said.
For Boxley, one reason to hold a wedding like theirs was, simply, "Because we can." Through research, skills and knowledge the couple have tapped into traditions reaching back through generations.
But another force was driving him as well: "This is a very special woman, a good mother and an excellent friend ... I want to show my respect for my bride and her family."
For each, this was a second wedding. Boxley has two sons in their 20s. Hanlon has four children, ranging from 5 to 17.
Boxley bore the greatest responsibility for planning the event, as Tsimshian tradition calls for the groom's people to host the wedding and provide gifts as "honor payments" to the bride and her relatives. Working for more than three months, he made more than 50 elaborately decorated boxes, paddles, deer-skins drums and other items, assisted by his two sons, David R. ("Davey") and Zach, and two close friends, Wayne Hewson and Floyd Guthrie.
The bentwood boxes, among the most dramatic gifts, were formed from yellow and red cedar boards, which when steamed can be bent into 90-degree angles.
Each gift was designed with the recipient in mind, representing the person's family, clan or some other attribute. Many contained versions of traditional images such as the eagle, raven or salmon. A paddle for Boxley's college roommate, Randy McMillan, who played piano at the wedding, featured piano keys along its blade.
Drizzly morning
For about 40 of those attending, the day started at Seattle's Pier 55 at 11 a.m. Dodging a drizzle, they hoped brighter skies in the west might bring clearing in time for the wedding, still four hours away.
This first group included Boxley and a number of his Tsimshian tribal members. Tiny Blake Island would represent their village, where they would welcome the bride and her party, arriving later.
In the 1800s, such visits would have been made in fleets of canoes, Boxley said. But for this occasion, the Argosy boat Good Time II stood in for the 8-mile journey.
A striking figure on the ride was silver-haired Arnold Booth, 84, clad in a crisp black suit, maroon shirt and tie bearing an eagle design. He carried a tall wooden staff with two eagle feathers at the top, a sign he is of his tribe's Eagle Clan, as is Boxley.
Booth made the journey from Metlakatla, Alaska, a Tsimshian tribal village of about 800 where Boxley grew up. "I was his eighth-grade teacher, and years later (when Boxley was a teacher), I substituted for him." In the wedding, he played a key role of the groom's "speaker," naming some of the ancestors Boxley descended from.
Two hours after the groom's party arrived, the Good Times II reappeared, this time bearing Hanlon, her Tlingit relatives and the remaining wedding guests.
As the boat backed to the dock and cut its engines, the bride stood at the stern with her appointed speaker, George Ramos, 74, of Yakutat, Alaska. In the Tlingit language, Ramos called out to those on shore. His words identified his group, announced that they had come to give one of their young women into marriage and ended, "We ask permission to come ashore."
Booth, standing at the top of the dock, responded in the Shimalgyak Tsimshian tongue, welcoming his visitors, and concluding, "Please come ashore. A welcome mat is set for you."
As if on cue, the showers let up and skies brightened over the island. Relief that the outdoor wedding wouldn't have to move indoors was obvious on Boxley's face as he greeted the arrivals. "Hey look," he said as visitors got off the boat, "The rain just quit for you."
Songs of tribute
The ceremony itself included aspects of Tsimshian, Tlingit and Christian cultures. Davey Boxley, the best man, sang a song he wrote in tribute to his father. Its lyrics, translated into English, ask and answer: "What is the measure of a man? Not money or power. Not possessions or vanity. But to always do what you say you will. That is the measure of a man."
Just before the groom's entrance, bridesmaids danced up the aisle, waving cedar boughs to cleanse the area. As Boxley entered in his eagle dance, he blew tufts of eagle down into the air, a sign of spreading peace. He wore a brown and black tunic of leather and cloth, decorated with beads and ermine tails.
The bride's entrance, on a platform carried by six groomsmen, symbolized the reverence and acceptance Boxley's family holds for her. She wore a white gown decorated with a black raven pattern, identifying her as a member of her tribe's Raven Clan. Her headband and long necklace were made of cobalt blue beads and long, narrow dentalia shells, once used by some tribes as money.
At one point in the ceremony, Boxley's sons placed a raven robe over Hanlon's shoulders. Then three of Hanlon's children, Tiffany Wilsey, 11; Derek Kengerski, 9; and Raven Kengerski, 5, placed an eagle robe on Boxley.
Later, in a moment drawn from Tlingit tradition, members of Hanlon's tribe draped a large wool blanket over the bride and groom together, signifying the strength of the union.
In a poem she wrote to Boxley, Hanlon urged, "Let no valley separate us. ... I love you. You are my best friend."
In response, Boxley sang a song to her in Shimalgyak, telling her that her beauty is known to all, that her heart is good and strong, that he is honored that she gives both to him.
The Christian parts of the ritual, including the formal exchange of vows and a brief sermon, were conducted by a longtime friend of Boxley, pastor Scott Montagne of Bayside Community Chapel in Kingston. He said the marriage was "not only a blend of you as two individuals ... but a blend of two families, a blend of two clans."
And noting the tribes' strong roles in authorizing and recognizing the marriage, Montagne quipped, "Usually I get the privilege of tying a knot. But this time I've had so much help, these guys are tied up pretty well."
Before guests headed into the Tillicum Village longhouse for a salmon feast, presentation of gifts and traditional songs and dances, the best man drew the ceremony to a close with a traveling song he wrote for the couple, closing with the words:
"I will follow this road wherever it leads me, through good and bad, until it reaches the end."
Jack Broom: 206-464-2222 or jbroom@seattletimes.com
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