July 2, 2000, Sunday

Same-Sex Couples Take Vows as Law Takes Effect; Across Vermont, Dozens Celebrate Civil Union

Pamela Ferdinand , Special to The Washington Post

BRATTLEBORO, Vt., July 1

Under a quilt of stars, as friends and family blew bubbles and kisses into the warm night air, Kathleen Peterson and Carolyn Conrad exchanged vows of love and commitment this morning and became the first same-sex couple in the nation to be recognized as civil union partners under Vermont's far-reaching law, which took effect today.

Town Clerk Annette Cappy opened her office here at the stroke of midnight to accommodate the Brattleboro couple, who immediately cemented their five-year relationship by obtaining a civil union license and the blessing of a justice of the peace. As of midnight, a state government was allowed for the first time to bestow on gay couples virtually the same benefits and responsibilities heterosexual married partners have, from taxes to medical decision-making. (Federal benefits are not included.)

One bride, Peterson, 41, a ski-lift electrician, wore black. The other bride, Conrad, 29, an associate dean of students at Marlboro College, held a bouquet of garden flowers and stood barefoot in a shimmery taupe sheath with matching nail polish as the town clerk verified their license information and cameras flashed around them. As they signed their names, friends, relatives and supportive strangers counted down from 10 to 1. "Happy union!" they yelled, with whistles and a lone cry of "Brava!"

Arms around each other's waists, the couple strode out of town hall to a park, joyfully oblivious to the group of young Rutland Church of Christ protesters in the lobby with bowed heads and placards reading, "SIN is a disgrace to any people" and "His blood is for you." White votive candles lined a marble fountain outside where a friend sang, intimate vows were exchanged and the women were officially declared joined in civil union.

"Where is that sparkling cider?" Conrad shouted, laughing, as more than 100 well-wishers burst into applause. As the significance of the event sank in, she said, "This is more than I ever thought I'd see in my lifetime."

This celebratory scenario played out in endless variations in churches and gardens, back yards and homes, throughout a state where being the first--as in the first to abolish slavery--is often a source of pride.

Several dozen same-sex couples were expected to forge civil unions today in mostly private ceremonies that promise to mark a new standard for gay rights nationwide and the end, at least for now, of an emotional and divisive debate here.

The landmark legislation, which prominently defines marriage as the union of one man and one woman, won passage in April after the state Supreme Court found that gay couples were being unconstitutionally denied the benefits of marriage.

Ordered to seek a remedy, legislators created civil unions despite the fact that 32 other states have laws restricting marriage to heterosexual couples and Congress allows states not to recognize same-sex "marriages" performed elsewhere. South Dakota recently strengthened an existing law banning gay marriage. And late Friday, the chief policymaking body of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) voted narrowly to recommend barring its ministers from officiating at commitment ceremonies for gay couples.

"Through this law, Vermont becomes a pioneer for families and equality," Evan Wolfson, a lawyer for the Lambda Legal Defense and Education Fund, told the Associated Press.

"Americans will see that when lesbians and gay men are given access to most of the rights and obligations of civil marriage, the sky will not fall and the institution of marriage will be even stronger," Wolfson said.

State Rep. William Lippert Jr. (D), the only openly gay member of the Vermont legislature, agreed. "It's exciting to look ahead and realize that young people growing up now will have a new model of what's possible in terms of committed and loving relationships between two members of the same sex," he said. "That after July 1, 2000, things will never be the same."

Of the three couples that filed suit seeking equal rights, only one--Lois Farnham, 55, and Holly Puterbaugh, 54--picked up a license today. Nina Beck and Stacy Jolles, who already had a Jewish "wedding" in California, may get theirs in the fall. Peter Harrigan and Stan Baker, partners for seven years, will apply for one this week. But Farnham and Puterbaugh couldn't wait.

"I think it's about time, after 27 1/2 years. That's long enough," said Farnham, with Puterbaugh outside the South Burlington town clerk's office. "It's nice after all this time to call Holly my spouse."

The majority of Vermonters are believed to oppose gay marriage, and how they will receive newly "civil unionized" compatriots remains to be seen.

For every person like Kate Millbrook of Brownsville, who believes it "won't amount to a hill of beans, for crying out loud," there is someone else like Kathleen Welch of Tunbridge, who resigned Friday as assistant town clerk, along with her boss, rather than issue the licenses. "It's immoral," she said.

Opponents held a peaceful rally on the State House lawn in Montpelier, after draping a banner reading "Take Back Vermont, Protect Our Children" over the steps, and some clergy refused to preside over civil unions. A court case to invalidate the law is pending, and state Rep. Nancy Sheltra has formed a political action committee to help defeat pro-civil union legislators in November.

"As a Christian woman, I believe this is really an abomination to God," she said. "I never thought this would happen in my state."

Under civil union rules, once a license is issued, it must be certified by a judge, justice of the peace or ordained clergy member and returned to the town clerk. Each license costs $ 20; a copy is $ 7. Local same-sex couples must obtain their license in the town where one partner resides. Out-of-state couples may apply anywhere, but their rights evaporate as soon as they cross the border.

For Thomas Lang, 37, and Alexander Westerhoff, 31, antiques dealers from Massachusetts, civil union meant more than an opportunity to achieve symbolic recognition of their nearly 13-year relationship. With highly politicized vows read before reporters and television cameras at a Brattleboro park at 1 a.m. today, they knew it also represented a chance to send a message back home.

"We have a long fight ahead of us in the state of Massachusetts to see these rights and these freedoms," Lang said. "We need to take this seriously."

Other ceremonies did not carry such heavy political weight, although the disappointment of not being married in the fullest sense was always implied. After picking up their license in Hartland, north of here, Declan Buckley, 44, of New Hampshire, and his partner, Kevin Gato, 38, exchanged vows and plain white gold bands at the First Universalist Church before a small gathering of friends and photographers, including a television crew from Japan.

Pink, yellow and violet roses perfumed the service as clergy spoke of sacred unity, friendship, and the expanse and limits of love. "Declan, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded partner in civil union?" asked the justice. "I do," Buckley replied. Said Gato, "Boy, do I."

Church bells pealed minutes later as Buckley lifted his new civil union partner for a piggyback ride to their truck, where heart-shaped "Just Married" balloons flapped from the roof.

"It's more than I ever expected," Gato said, as giddy as any newlywed. "I feel like the king of the world."