By Maggie Downs
The Cincinnati Enquirer

Law alumnus Kory Jackson proposes to current law student Angela McDonald during a mock cross-examination in Professor Christo Lassiter's class. (Andrew Higley/The University of Cincinnati)

Law alumnus Kory Jackson proposes to current law student Angela McDonald during a mock cross-examination in Professor Christo Lassiter's class. (Andrew Higley / The University of Cincinnati)

For a moment, it seemed like there was nobody else in the world.

Kory Jackson knelt before Angelina "Angie" McDonald and said, "I love you very much, and I can't imagine my life without you. Would you please marry me?"

McDonald said, "Yes, of course I will."

And then McDonald's Criminal Procedure II law class at the University of Cincinnati tooted horns and tossed confetti.

Engagements are no longer a private deed, resigned to a dining room or a walk in the park. People are now saying "Yes!" everywhere from museums to sports events, even law classrooms.

"A public proposal adds to the element of surprise," said international wedding planner Lisa Light of DestinationBride.com. "It's adventurous. It's creative. And no one would ever expect you to do it."

Wedding experts believe more people than ever are taking the plunge publicly.

The increase of extreme proposals in the last 10 years can be attributed to a more extreme culture, Light said.

"The people getting engaged now are the children of baby boomers. They are well-traveled, well-experienced, and they've done all sorts of things," she said. "They have to go the extra mile to propose, too."

Plus, one creative proposal inspires another.

"You hear all these great stories, and people are pushed to the limit to be more creative," Light said. "It just takes one person on a billboard or at Yankee Stadium to get the idea rolling."

Locally, proposals are routine at arts performances, like the Cincinnati Ballet's Feb. 14 presentation of Romeo and Juliet. That night was magic for a couple sitting in the balcony, when the man started to propose. An audience member noticed, stood and pointed; the rest of the crowd followed suit.

In another instance, on the closing night of The Nutcracker, the audience was treated to a reading of "The Night Before Christmas." One man slipped away, telling his girlfriend he had to use the restroom. At the end of the poem, the reader said someone had a special Christmas gift - the man appeared on stage and proposed to his girlfriend, who was sitting in the front row.

LOVE OR HOME RUNS? LOVE WINS.

In 2003, the Reds hit 97 home runs at Great American Ball Park. (They hit a total of 182 that season, home and away.) In that same time period, there were approximately 162 public marriage proposals at the park.

The Cincinnati Museum Center has also played host to several proposals - one recently in the Cincinnati History Museum, another inside the St. Peter and the Vatican exhibit.

Couples can also try to hit a home run at the Great American Ball Park. The Reds average two marriage proposals per game.

"The ballpark has a lot of symbolism," said Zach Bonkowski, marketing operations and events coordinator at the stadium. "Maybe a first date was at a Reds game or they like to watch baseball together.

"For whatever reason, if it means something to them, we try to help them out."

Within limits, that is. The Reds don't do video proposals. There won't be any public address announcements. And no matter how much you beg and plead, the players can't come to your seat.

Those proposing simply get 20 to 30 seconds on the scoreboard at the end of the third inning. The whole board is available for $175, or $35 per line.

And then there are people for whom the sky isn't the limit.

In 15 years as owner of High Signs Aerial Advertising, Bud Newhouse has helped hundreds of couples get engaged through skywriting. A banner is $275 within the Interstate 275 circle.

Newhouse has flown a proposal banner over "just about anything you can imagine." That includes zipping past the Celestial Restaurant in Mount Adams, which was home to a proposal on Friday, and soaring above a picnicking couple in Alms Park.

Nobody has said no yet.

For law student McDonald, it happened after a lecture on cross-examination scenarios. Professor Christo Lassiter called for McDonald, 28, of Forest Park, to take the witness stand. She knew a special guest would be conducting the cross-examination, but she didn't know who.

When her boyfriend entered the room, she was angry.

"I thought he was trying to mess up my testimony by catching me off-guard," McDonald explained.

At one point, McDonald was asked to stand and read a portion of her testimony. The "testimony" was really a a copy of The Bait by John Donne, the first poem Jackson read to McDonald when the two began dating.

That's when he got down on bended knee.

The law class seemed appropriate for their proposal, Jackson said.

Both have an affinity for criminal law. Jackson, 31, is a lawyer at Baker & Hostetler, downtown. And last semester, he was McDonald's defendant in a trial practice class.

"I suppose he could have taken me outside with flowers," McDonald said. "But I was real happy with the way it happened. I've never heard of a proposal quite like this. It's more special this way."

E-mail mdowns@enquirer.com