Beighlie and I met in a particularly awful statistics class at Wright State. Nothing brings people together faster than being in a room of undergrads that don’t want to learn about factorials and joint probability distribution. Our professor would give us time to work on problems in class, and one day, instead of googling tutorials, we started talking. And lo’ and behold, we were both photographers.
Flash forward a few years, and Beighlie and her husband Brandon were looking to renew their vows at Hocking Hills. What started as a bit of a disaster—including a mud pit and a tow truck—ended as a beautiful reminder of why Beighlie and Brandon said “I do” in the first place.