A Kennedy and a Cuomo Unite in a Democratic Love Match

updated 06/25/1990 AT 01:00 AM EDT

originally published 06/25/1990 AT 01:00 AM EDT

The tabloids, cutely, dubbed it "Cuomolot." But in truth there didn't seem to be a more congenial spot for hap'ly-ever-aftering than Washington, D.C., on June 9, when Andrew Cuomo, the 32-year-old son of New York Gov. Mario Cuomo, and Kerry Kennedy, 30, the seventh child of the late Robert F. Kennedy, carried out the most regal political merger of the decade.

To some the union of Kerry, director of an international human rights organization, and Andrew, a seasoned political pro who is expected to make a run soon for a Queens congressional seat, looked like a Democrat's field of dreams. "It's got awful good bloodlines," said Frank Manciewicz, who had been RFK's press secretary. "Like they say in baseball—it's one of those trades that helps both clubs."

But to others, including the throng of 500 camera-wielding well-wishers gathered outside St. Matthew's Cathedral, the day seemed more like a fairy tale. In the same church where her uncle John F. Kennedy's funeral took place 27 years ago, Kerry, preceded by bridesmaids, ushers and flower girls (41 attendants in all), entered the church to a burst of applause, and then—to heck with tradition—took a walk down the aisle all by herself. "She stuck to her guns," says newspaper columnist Art Buchwald, a longtime family friend. "She didn't want anyone to give her away."

At the end of the hour-long ceremony, the newlyweds' 300 nearest and dearest went to Ethel Kennedy's Hickory Hill estate. There they lunched on a buffet of lamb and salmon while flower girls perched on oak tree swings and dogs wearing white satin bows roamed the expansive green lawns. The glow of it all lingered, even after bride and groom swept off to their honeymoon on St. Bart's.

"All of us get less and less chance to go to happy occasions," says Buchwald. "This was one."

From Our Partners