DIXIE The Times-Picayune. January 23, 1983

Special Brides Issue

THE HANSENS AFTER

50 YEARS

THE WEDDING

OF THE YEAR 50 YEARS LATER

By Pat Sims

The first time Ernest H a n s e n s a w Mary

Gemelli, she was arguing

with her brother Angelo: He wanted her to t rade her two-door sports coupe with the rumble seat for his more pedestrian Ford, but she was having none of it. When Hansen suggested she give in gracefully, she told him to mind his own

business. Being a sensitive soul, he

left, but after a couple of backward glances, he was hooked. He knew — somehow — that she was the girl he wanted to marry and at their next meeting he told her so. She laughed at tha t , but apparently something had clicked with her, too.

Eleven months later, on

November 16, 1932, they w e r e m a r r i e d a n d on November 16, 1982, they celebrated

their 50th wedding anniversary at Gallier Hall.

Ins ide t h e i r h o u s e on South Roman Street where they have lived for 40 of their 50 years together, the Hansens

sit talking, surrounded by memorabilia. There are pictures of them as a young couple, just married; of Mary as a girl, hair neatly parted, looking innocent and expectant;

of Mary and her parents and brothers, looking

more like four brothers and s is ters t h a n p a r e n t s and children.

On the dining room table are souvenirs of the Gallier Hall reception: silver goblets engraved with their names, a pair of gold and white wedding

bells crocheted by a friend, a bottle of champagne with streamers still attached,

Mary Gemelli and Ernest Hansen got married in the midst of the Depression and Prohibition. But that didn't scale down their celebration. There was a 21-member entourage to escort them down the aisle and an opulent bash at the top of the Jung Hotel. The Hansens and their friends got together 50 years later to remember the big day. There were kisses and hugs and food and drinks and stories traded with members of the wedding party. There was (see inset, left to right) groomsman Peter Loisel, maid-of-honor Irma Loisel Seibert, groomsman Jack Scardino, bridesmaid Esther Abadie Daly, the bride and the groom, groomsman Joseph Gemelli, matron-of-honor Lily Lomonaco Doyle, flower girl Lillian Adams Liposky and junior usher Gerald Gemelli.

WHEN WELL-WISHERS

GATHERED TO HONOR THE

HANSENS ON THEIR 50TH

ANNIVERSARY, THE TALK TURNED

TO MARY'S RAINBOW WEDDING.

which, with typical generosity, they have offered to

uncork on the spot. It is a r a iny S a t u r d a y

afternoon and the Hansens are discussing their wedding, the Gallier Hall reception 50 years later and what happened

in between. Mary, sitting at the dining room table,

does most of the ta lk ing , with Ernest in an easy chair nearby, clarifying a point here and there.

First it was snowballs . T h a t w a s t h e a v e n u e through which thousands of New Or l ean i ans came to know Mary and Ernest Hansen.

Over time. Hansen ' s Sno-Bliz (in business now for 43 years) became something of a legend. In some families several generations became customers. In local papers, articles detailing the snow-making machine invented and patented by Mr. Hansen, Mrs. Hansen's trips to select the ice, the washing of the ice and the painstaking daily concoction of the flavors became de rigueur when the subject was snowballs. Later it was their son Gerard who brought the Hansens some measure of fame, when he was elected magis t ra te of Criminal District Court.

But on November 16, 1982, when over 200 well-wishers gathered to honor the Hansens on their 50th anniversary, the talk turned to t h e wedding 50 y e a r s before, Mary Gemelli's rainbow

wedding, which had been large and beautiful and elaborate, and which had been, many insisted, THE wedding of 1932.

Continued on page 10

Mary and Ernest Hansen: still cuddling after all these years.

PHOTO BY ELIOT KAMENITZ

ON MARY'S WEDDING DAY, GEORGE RAFT WAS APPEARING

LIVE AT THE SAENGER; TRIXIE FRIGANZA COULD BE SEEN ON

STAGE AT LOEW'S; MISS FAIRFAX WAS HANDING OUT ADVICE TO

THE LOVELORN; MEN'S OVERCOATS WERE ON SALE FOR $3.95; AND PORK CHOPS WERE

GOING FOR 15 CENTS A POUND

On W e d n e s d a y ,

N o v e m b e r 1 6 , 1932, Al Capone was appearing in

cour t in manac l e s ; Leon Trotsky was just emerging from exile in Turkey; Babe Ruth was negotiating a new contract; Franklin D. Roosevelt,

who only a week before had scored a stunning defeat over H e r b e r t Hoover to become president-elect, was recovering from a bout of influenza; and thanks to the anti-prohibitionists, "real beer" was being promised by Christmas.

On t h a t d a t e in a n d a round New Orleans , the Chalmette Chapter of the Louisiana United Daughters of 1812 was urging its members

to protest the use of the word "hell" in motion pictures;

George Raft w a s appearing live at the Saenger (25 cents for matinees, 35 cents after 6 p.m. and kiddies 15 cents any time); Trixie Friganza and Her Discoveries could be seen on stage a t Loew's; Ann Pennington, "said to possess the best shaped legs in America and the originator of the Black Bottom d a n c e , " had ju s t arrived in the Crescent City and was to appear "supported by Phyllis Hunt, Hot-Cha

Girl, and Lindy Coons, Crooning Master of Ceremonies";

Miss Fairfax was handing out advice to the lovelorn; men ' s overcoats were on sale for $3.95; furnished

a p a r t m e n t s were being offered up at a weekly rate of $5 dollars and pork chops were going for 15 cents a pound.

But the big news that day, according to the New Orleans States, was the weather — a cold 33 degrees was forecast. That alone made November 16 something of a novelty for tropical New Orleans. Coupled

with the occurrence of the wedding of the year, it became downright historic.

For Mary Gemelli and Ernest Hansen, it could have been raining or snowing or sunny and they probably wouldn't have noticed. All they know was that it was their wedding day and there were h u n d r e d s of people waiting to witness the big event. It was an event noteworthy

not only for its style and size, but also for its timing

— it came smack in the middle of the Depression.

Mary Hansen remembers the Depression — the people who came into her father's produce store and said there

was no money to feed the kids and who were given free packages of spaghetti by her soft-hearted mother . She remembers the people on the corner who rented a house from her father, but didn't pay rent for seven months, and the girlfriend whose wonderful job with the telephone

company somehow evaporated after the Crash, so the girl was forced to sell oranges on the street, and eventually caught pneumonia and died.

For Mary Hansen, things weren't nearly so hard. Her father had come over from Mess ina , I taly, wi th h is brother (the father of Joe Gemelli the clothing store owner , who would l a te r s tand as a groomsman in Mary's wedding), and started from scratch with a tiny produce

business, which grew into four prosperous stands at the Magazine Street Market

and a grocery store at 959 St. Mary Street with a 14-room apartment upstairs for his family. Across the street was Mayor Ar thur O'Keefe's house and nearby was St. Alphonsus School, which Mary attended. Holy Cross where her brothers s h o n e a s foo tba l l s t a r s (Angelo, the younger of the b r o t h e r s a s g u a r d a n d Dominic, because he was short and fast, as scatback) was clear across town.

"My father's business was g o o d , " s a y s Mary . " H e believed in quality and — I'm not bragging — but his produce,

his fruits and everything had to be a No. 1. He

wouldn't use any seconds. They all came to him for quality. He had a lovely personality,

too. He was well liked. That's why his business

was so big." At 16 Mary was given a

car (her brothers had them, too), and when the time came for her to be married, her father was prepared to see to it that his only daughter had nothing but the best.

Her wedding gown came via the Emporium clothing store on Canal Street. "A lady from the Emporium had to fly to New York to bring back my gown," Mary says, "because my father didn't t h i n k a n y t h i n g in New Orleans was good enough for me." The New York trip netted

a flowered lace veil and a high-necked whi te s a t i n dress, loaded with lace, scattered

with seed pearls at the neck and wrist and equipped with a train so long that half of it was later cut off and made into a dress.

The wedding was a rainbow wedding, so J o h a n n a

roses were flown in from California. "I would never forget

them because they were so beautiful," Mary says. "They were two-tone, like an orange and a pink or flesh. The inside was one color and the outside was another color. They had to match the rainbow

wedding, you know, which was the colors of the rainbow."

The m a t r o n of honor , dressed in pale pink, was the only one of Mary's attendants

not two-toned. All the rest of the bridesmaids wore crepe dresses accented with velvet and turban-style hats, the h a t s and sleeves one color, the dresses another. Esther Daly, then Esther Abadie, who was one of the b r ide sma ids , r emember s those dresses: hers was lilac crepe with pea green velvet, the others various combinations

of blue and pink and yellow and orange.

The day of the wedding Ernest Hansen arrived at St.

ERNEST HANSEN, TUXEDOED AND EAGER, ARRIVED EARLY AT ST.

ALPHONSUS CHURCH. CROWDS HAD ALREADY BEGUN TO GATHER. MARY HAD BEEN UP EARLY HERSELF

PUTTING ON HER GOWN AND HAVING HER HAIR DONE BY THE LADY FROM MAISON BLANCHE

WHO'D BEEN SENT OUT TO HELP.

Alphonsus Church, tuxedoed and eager, well before 10 a.m., the time Mass was to begin. Crowds of people had already begun to gather, but his bride-to-be was nowhere to be seen. She had been up early herself, putting on her gown, having her hair done by the lady from Maison Blanche who'd been sent out to help with the bridal preparations.

In fact, she'd been all ready to leave and had gone down on her father's arm to say goodbye to her sister-in-law, who was going to miss the wedding due to the birth of a son five days earlier. "So here my father walks in with me," she recalls, "and I walk in there and my sister-in-law's in bed with the little baby. She looked up at me and she drew in her breath a n d s h e s t a r t e d c ry ing . When she started crying, my father started crying and I started crying. They had to take me back to my room and patch my face, so I ran late and Ernest was worried."

S a y s E r n e s t , " I thought I'd lost out."

Finally, her face repaired and her composure regained, Mary was on her way to church. By the time she got there, people were "upstairs, downstairs, on the altar and outside in the streets." No one who knew the Gemellis — and there were quite a few — wanted to miss seeing Mr. Gemelli give his youngest child a n d only d a u g h t e r away.

Ins ide , t h a n k s to Mr. Lamana of Lamana-Panno-Fallo, who was in charge of "conducting" the wedding, dealing with the florist and supplying the limousines, palms filled the church from back to front. In the center of the church were white beribboned

gates, covered with flowers, which, during the course of the ceremony,

would be opened by two "infant ushers" so that the wedding par ty (23 in all, including bride and groom, br idesmaids, groomsmen, flower girl and ring bearer) could walk through. Officiating

was F a t h e r T h o m a s Caron, who had specially requested that he be the one to perform the ceremony. Singing her heart our all during

the Mass was a Mrs. Lynch, a customer of Mr. Gemelli and member of the St. Alphonsus choir, who had likewise requested a place in the festivities.

To Ernest Hansen, it must have seemed a

fitting occasion to celebrate

the spirited campaign he'd waged to win the

hand of Mr. Gemilli's Mary Victoria. After their first meeting, he'd made regular trips to Mary's house whenever

he could spare time from his job a s app ren t i c e a t Bishop-Edel l M a c h i n e r y Works on Lafitte. Most days Mary would be s i t t ing in front of the store with her seven girlfriends (who would later serve as her bridesmaids)

and he'd stop to talk. The attraction, it turned out, had been mutual right from the start; Mary just hesitated to say so. "I was afraid to admit it because he was so handsome," she says now. And, thanks to a strict and protective father, "I wasn't used to talking to boys that much."

Finally, after countless conversations in front of the store and one memorable drag race to the cemetery (which Mary won), Ernest worked up his courage and asked her out. Apparently impressed by his perseverance,

her parents agreed to let her go, but only on the condition that she bring

LOUIS PRIMA AND SHARKEY BONANO PLAYED AT THE LAVISH RECEPTION AT THE JUNG ROOF.

"IT WAS PROHIBITION," SAYS MARY, "SO ALCOHOL WAS

FORBIDDEN. BUT MY FATHER HAD DRINKS FOR EVERYBODY. THE

WAITERS WOULD BRING IT OUT ON THESE SILVER TRAYS WITH A

DOME ON TOP."

some of the girlfriends along. Despite the presence of the

girlfriends, tha t first date was magical. Ernest's friend Louis Prima, with whom he'd gone to school and played football, was turning 21 and there was going to be a party for him at The Golden Pumpkin

at West End in celebration. When they walked in

tha t night, the band was playing and Mary and Ernest danced for the first time to "Stardust ." From then on, they say, it was their song. (Later, Mary says, every time they went out and there was a band, "Ernest would sneak behind my back, go up to the band and say, 'Play "Stardust

." ' ") Two weeks after their first

date, a cedar chest emblazoned wi th J o a n of Arc

a r r i v e d for M a r y from Ernest. "He worked fast, he didn't lose any time," says Mary.

"I wasn ' t going to lose her," says Ernest.

The cedar chest seems to have t u r n e d the t ide in Ernest ' s favor. "Then my parents saw that he was serious,"

says Mary. Mr. Gemelli, who u p u n t i l t h e n h a d claimed no man good enough for his daughter, decided it was time he got to know Ernest. Almost immediately they hit it off.

"He was strict but he had a heart of gold," says Ernest. "He loved his daughter and whatever she loved, I guess he loved. My father-in-law liked me, see, that's what it was. Once he thought a lot of me, I was in. He ran everybody

else away." On September 16, 1932,

Mary and Ernest announced their engagement and on November 16, 1932, eleven months after their first meeting,

they were married. Once the Mass was over

that cold November 16, the b r i d a l p a r t y s t r u g g l e d through the crowds of people ("They had policemen to make them stand back so we could get out," Mary remembers)

to waiting limousines so they could proceed to their n e x t s t o p : C. B e n n e t t e Moore's at 109 Baronne in the Beer Building, one of the top photographers in town and a popular choice for wedding portraits.

From there it was off to the Jung Hotel's Florentine Room for the wedding breakfast.

Says Mary, "They called it the lunch, we called it the breakfast, but when we got there it was lunchtime, time we took pictures."

A rest followed, dur ing which the bride and her bridesmaids retired to one sui te , the groom and his groomsmen to another. Four hours later they all emerged, clad once again in wedding finery, and ready for what promised to be a huge and lavish reception at the Jung roof.

For s tar ters , there were not one bu t two b a n d s : Ernest's friend Louis Prima's band, and Sharkey Bonano and his group who played quite frequently at the Silver Slipper in those days. Then there was the food — a seemingly

endless supply — and the alcohol. "It was Prohibition,"

says Mary, "so alcohol was forbidden. But my father had dr inks for everybody. The waiters would bring it out on these silver trays with a dome on top."

Meanwhile, the members of the wedding were putting on a sort of performance for all the guests. "You know how they parade around at the Carnival bal ls?" says Mary. " T h a t ' s w h a t Mr. Lamana had us do. There was no receiving line — he

MARY AND ERNEST DROVE

TO BATON ROUGE, WHERE

THEY SPENT THEIR HONEYMOON AT THE HEIDELBERG,

THE FANCIEST HOTEL IN TOWN.

conducted the Grand March and we walked around and a r o u n d whi le everybody viewed us."

That Carnival image stuck in Esther Daly's mind, too. "It was like a Carnival ball where you see the king and queen and crowds of people," she remembers. "It was gorgeous.

And everybody that went to the wedding was just dressed up to kill. Mary's father had gone all out for her."

Mary's brother Angie, a musician on the Orpheum Circuit and co-owner with Stephen Loyacano of the Chez Paree nightclub, served as master of ceremonies for the event. The crowd that gathered to watch him and t he wedd ing p a r t y soon exceeded the expected number:

300 invitations had been sent out, but even more had been i s sued by word of mouth. "My father was a businessman," says Mary, "and everyone, knowing that he was going to give a big wedding for his only daughter,

wanted to come be there, so he jus t told them they could come. Well, there was a thousand up at that roof and a lot more people who were insulted because they hadn't been asked to come."

The reception was to last until midnight, but about 11, M a r y a n d E r n e s t w e r e whisked off to their suites to change into their traveling outfits, Mary's a blue coat sui t with fur collar, blue shoes, blue hat and gloves, and Ernes t ' s a navy blue suit.

As they came out on the stairway and Mary threw her bouquet to her bridesmaids,

Mr. Gemelli came up to his daughter with a final suggestion. "Why don't you

take your brother Angie with you?" he said. Angie politely declined. "Not th is t ime, Pop," he said.

For three hours Mary and Ernest drove along frozen roads to Baton Rouge, where they spent their eight-day honeymoon at the Heidelberg,

the biggest and fanciest hotel in town. On returning to New Orleans, there was one last ceremony: the cutting

of the wedding cake at Mary's parents' house. The cake was from Baehr's Bakery

on Magazine Street, stood almost 4 feet high and came complete with ribbons for the bridesmaids to pull, one of which was attached to a ring inside, which marked the lucky winner as the next bride.

"Today's weddings, after you go to the reception, you cut the cake and eat it," says Ernest, "but you didn't do t h a t in those d a y s . You waited until you came back from your honeymoon."

The delay, it turned out, hadn't helped much. "When we came back from our honeymoon

PHOTO BY BRYAN S. BERTEAUX

honeymoon, the cake was stale," says Mary. "It was hard as a rock. Everybody got a big kick out of that, though; that was funny."

The wedding over, Mary and Ernest moved into a little

house on St. Mary Street. They s tayed six m o n t h s before the Depression caught up with them and they were forced to move in with her pa ren t s . For the next 10 years, the Hansens and the Gemellis lived together, until t he H a n s e n s bough t the house in Broadmoor, where they still live.

Fifty years of marr iage saw the births of two sons. Ernest Jr., now a pediatrician

in Thibodaux, born 11 months after the wedding, Gerard, the criminal courts judge and of five grandchildren;

Ernest Sr.'s invention of the snow-making machine and the successful business that resulted; his retirement after 45 y e a r s from the mach ine shop and the i r work for a number of local political figures.

Add together the people

Mary and Ernest at the shop with their trademark Sno-Bliz machine in the spring of 1978.

Mary and Ernest knew during their growing-up years in

New Orleans, the customers they met and became friends with through the snowball business and the contacts made during various political campaigns and you come up with quite a few friends, friends likely to want to help celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary.

It was with this thought in mind tha t sons Gerard

and Ernest began in September

to plan a surprise celebration for their parents, one which would include a Mass. a renewing of vows, a n d a big r e c e p t i o n . "I wanted it to have a little class because the original wedding had so much class," says Gerard, "and I wanted to have it in Gallier Hall because I know how much

ON RETURNING TO NEW ORLEANS, THERE WAS ONE LAST

CEREMONY: THE CUTTING OF THE WEDDING CAKE. THE CAKE WAS

FROM BAEHR'S BAKERY ON MAGAZINE STREET, STOOD

ALMOST 4 FEET HIGH AND CAME COMPLETE WITH RIBBONS FOR THE

BRIDESMAIDS TO PULL.

mother loves it." With the help of former

bridesmaid Esther Daly, he attempted to locate all the members of the original wedding

party. "One day when my parents weren't home, I took a picture of her wedding picture," he says. "We took it to Mrs. Daly and asked her to tell us people's names, and help locate them."

By the night of November 16, over 200 friends and family

had been c o n t a c t e d , including eight of the original wedding par ty . Mary and Ernest, who by now knew

plans for a 50th wedding anniversary were afoot, but had no inkling of just how big the event would be, entered Gallier Hall in special anniversary clothes they'd picked out for each other, and began to notice with some surprise, the number of people milling about.

"At first I thought they were there for something else," says Mary, "but then I saw my son and daughter-in-law and their children and I kissed them. And that fast the photographer, Dale Crozier,

said 'Step over here,

PHOTO BY G. ANDREW BOYD

BY THE NIGHT OF NOVEMBER 16, 1982 OVER 200 FRIENDS HAD BEEN CONTACTED, INCLUDING EIGHT

MEMBERS OF THE HANSENS' ORIGINAL WEDDING PARTY. MARY

AND ERNEST ENTERED GALLIER HALL AND BEGAN TO NOTICE

WITH SOME SURPRISE THE NUMBER OF PEOPLE MILLING ABOUT.

we're taking these pictures for the paper.' Then Esther, one of my bridesmaids, came walking in with a big envelope

— it was filled with some prayers she had for us — and she hugged me and 1 said 'Oh, Esther,' I was so surprised.

Then I turned around and saw my matron of honor coming in."

More guests made themselves

themselves known, and soon the Hansens found themselves in a crowd of old friends.

Then there was a Mass conducted by Rev. David A. Boileau and Rev. Cleve Dowling,

the Hansens renewed their vows, and passages were read by Gerard's 9-year-old twins, Ashley and Allison,

and Ernest's children, 17-year-old twins Margaret Ann and Mary Ann and son Ernest III.

Afterwards, there were more pictures. "They took p i c t u r e s g a l o r e , g a l o r e , galore," says Mary; pictures

The Hansens' venerable Mecca for flavored-ice lovers at 4801 Tchoupitoulas Street.

THE HANSENS GREETED THEIR FRIENDS, POSED

FOR MORE PICTURES, AND

DANCED TO THEIR OLD FAVORITE,

"STARDUST."

of Mary and Ernest alone, of the twins (both sets), of all 34 of their family members who had been a s s e m b l e d , of Ernest and Mary feeding each other pieces of cake.

There were gues t s like Moon and Verna Landrieu and their daughter, Mary; Judge Sal Mule; cousin Joe G e m e l l i ; J u d g e W a l t e r Marcus; and close family friends Sam and Celia Katz. Letters and commemorative scrolls had been received from Attorney General William

Guste Jr., former president Jimmy Carter and his

wife Rosalynn, Archbishop Philip H a n n a n and Pope John Paul II. There was a certificate from Gov. David Treen proclaiming the Hansens

colonels and a letter from Mayor Dutch Morial offering congratulations.

"The Hansens were beside themselves with pleasure," says a friend who was there for the event. "It was sort of a perfect night. There was no ill will of any kind."

For the guests there was danc ing to Willie Gray ' s band and, like 50 years earlier,

more food and drink than anyone could consume. "Honey, did we have a ball," E s t h e r Daly s a id l a t e r . "There was all sorts of food there and one long table with nothing but raw vegetables."

The Hansens greeted their friends, posed for more pictures,

and danced to "Stardust." And, s ays Es the r

Da ly , " W e a l l s a t a n d thought about the day that we stood for Mary."

On one wall of the house on Roman Street , are three pictures , a top of

another: Gerard and his wedding party, Ernest, Jr . and

his. and Mary and Ernest

"PEOPLE TODAY WOULD THINK WE WERE SILLY,

BUT THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED,"

SAYS MARY GEMELLI

HANSEN OF HER 1932

WEDDING.

with their attendants. Mary points to faces in her picture: "This young fellow passed away last year and this one passed away, he drowned when he went fishing. This little girl I wouldn't know if I hadn't seen her since then, this little girl is now married and h a s ch i ldren of her own." She points out her brother Angie, who was best man and Esther Daly, who was dressed in lilac and pea green that day.

In a cabinet are mementos of 50 years of b i r thdays . Mary's birthday is February 22, George Wash ing ton ' s birthday, and so every year, Ernest has crafted, out of m e t a l , h a t c h e t c a n d l e -ho lde r s , h a t c h e t c a n d l e snuffers, hatchet jewelry, all engraved with da tes and birthday wishes and words of love.

Mary looks at the pictures on the wall and smiles at the thought of her rainbow wedding.

"People today would t h i n k we were silly, bu t that's what happened," she says. "It was a rainbow wedding,

and, do you know, I still meet peop le t o d a y w h o attended my wedding, and they say, 'You're the Gemelli girl that had that big rainbow

wedding.' A lot of people have never forgotten it.

"Today you would laugh at it, you would say, 'Aw, they're trying to put on a spectacular.' "

"But that was the custom," Ernest says. M a r y H a n s e n s m i l e s

thoughtfully at her husband and says, "Maybe he was meant for me, huh?"

Ernest gets more comfortable in his chair, smiles back

at her and says, "This was the greatest love match since Romeo and Juliet."