Photo by Jennifer Smoose

On May 17, 2006, Benjamin Okeke was on a flight from Baltimore to Boston, dripping with sweat and clutching his chest. The other passengers stared. Was this man having a heart attack?

He wasn’t—he was terrified. In about two hours, Benjamin would be asking his girlfriend, Angelique Manning, to marry him. For the past month, he had kept the cushion-cut diamond in a bulletproof, 007-style briefcase. But when airport security wouldn’t let the briefcase through, he had to move the ring to his left shirt pocket. He clutched the pocket tight and waited to land.

Benjamin, a Colorado native, and Angelique, who grew up in DC, met in 2003 at a law conference in Puerto Rico. There they discovered they were both students at Howard University’s School of Law—and that they both attended DC’s St. Augustine Catholic Church and lived two blocks from each other.

After one night on the Puerto Rican beach, talking and looking at the moon, Angelique knew Benjamin was the one. After three years of dating, Benjamin knew, too. He also knew he couldn’t propose on a holiday or anniversary—that was too predictable—so in early 2006, he shut his eyes, pointed at the calendar, and landed on the May date. He bought a ticket to Boston, where Angelique was working, and hatched his plan.

In high school, Blake Keeley knew only a few things about Scott Doyle: He was her friend’s older brother, he played lacrosse, and he was very, very cute.

“Scott went to Georgetown Prep, where my dad and brother went to school, and I went to Holton-Arms, an all-girls school,” she says. “But I had never met him.”

Angela and Will—just married!

When Angela Schmidt Shimé sat down to dinner at her wedding reception last June, she was expecting the usual: A clink of a glass, a few words from the best man, then back to the meal.

But that’s not how they do it in Cameroon. Or, apparently, when you’re marrying a Cameroonian in Maryland.

“It was a tradition for Will that all of his friends and family would get up and say something, and give a blessing,” Angela says. “Every time one of his guests said something, one of mine would get up and tell stories. It turned into an hour of toasting.”

Before the ceremony, Will’s friends had also surprised Angela by bursting into a capella Cameroonian wedding songs that had guests on both sides of the church dancing.

Will, who works as an account executive, came to Washington from Cameroon in 11th grade to play football for Bishop McNamara High School, continuing on to college football at the University of Maryland. In 2003, he met Angela’s sister, who—knowing how stubborn Angela was about being set up—arranged for Angela, a director of global events for a Fairfax software company, to “run into” Will at a bar in DC. They stayed out dancing until 2 AM and started dating soon after.

Been to any great weddings lately? Or maybe you’re planning one yourself. Either way, The Washingtonian would love nothing more than to hear all the details of the big day. E-mail us at mconrad@washingtonian.com or jneal@washingtonian.com and give us all the details! Don’t be shy about sending a few digital snaps, too. You could be featured in our magazine or online.

Sahar Javadi and Shahdy Ali-Hassan don’t like Valentine’s Day. They think it’s a cheesy Hallmark holiday that puts too much pressure on too many people. As Sahar puts it, “It’s just stupid.” So when she figured out that Shahdy, her boyfriend of two years, was going to be on company business in Brazil on February 14, 2007, she didn’t care . . . right?

“I was really mad,” says Sahar. “I knew he had my engagement ring. We went shopping for it in November. So at this point all I’m thinking about are opportunities for him to propose.”

She had been sure he was going to do it over New Year’s in Houston, at her brother’s house, in front of her parents. Nope.

In January, when she had to go to Los Angeles on a work trip and Shahdy said he would meet her out there, her hopes rose again. Shahdy, however, hadn’t even brought the ring along.

When Matt Cowan first saw Kristina Lane in August 2004, he knew nothing about her—except that he had to talk to her.

“My brother and sister-in-law had invited me to their church in Arlington,” says Matt, who had moved to Washington from California just a month earlier. “I’m sitting in the back of the church and I see this girl walk in, and she has this long hair and I’m mesmerized. The whole service I’m thinking, ‘How can I meet this person?’ ”

As the service ended, Matt kept his eye on Kristina . . . and watched her walk right over to his sister-in-law.

Jamie Gillespie and Andrea Seltzer got together the way most 16-year-olds do: He asked her to sit next to him at a party, which—obviously—meant he liked her. Then, he borrowed his mom’s minivan to pick her up for their first “date,” a hiking trip with another couple from Bethesda-Chevy Chase High School. One awkward phone call later (Jamie: “My friends asked me what we are.” Andrea: “My friends, too.” Jamie: “I want to say you’re my girlfriend.” Andrea: “I want to say that, too.”) and they were officially dating.

“We don’t really remember much else,” Andrea says. “Not in a mean way, but it’s not like you’re thinking your high-school boyfriend is the person you’re going to marry or anything.”

Of course not.