[Congressional Record Volume 161, Number 52 (Monday, April 13, 2015)]
[Senate]
[Pages S2098-S2100]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
THE JIM OBERGEFELL STORY
Mr. BOOKER. Madam President, I rise with some excitement as I get to
tell a story that is an American story. This story is, in fact, a love
story.
The first time Jim Obergefell met the love of his life, John Arthur,
neither of them were swept off their feet. As is the case with a lot of
couples, they met at a bar through mutual friends. They met then a
second time, but the sparks didn't really fly then either. It wasn't
until a few months later that they met for the third time at a New
Year's Eve party. This time, they fell in love. Jim and John like to
joke that theirs was a story of love at third sight.
Following the New Year's Eve party, John and Jim began building their
lives together in Cincinnati, OH. The next 20 years they spent doing so
many of the things that connected couples do. They said ``I love you''
for the first time. They had their first fight. Their bond grew and
grew, and this incredible couple moved in together, buying their first
home, selling that home, buying another home, and working together,
building lives together. They moved from job to job, but they stayed
together. Traveling, making friends, becoming involved with their
community, they built a life of love together.
Jim and John's love story is a familiar one. They crossed familiar
relationship milestones and faced so many of the same probing questions
many couples often get: Why aren't you married? Have you thought about
getting married? Hey, what about marriage?
Well, of course, they had thought about marriage. Their bond was that
strong; they were so deeply in love and committed. But their response,
unfortunately, was that they had thought of it, but they wanted it to
actually mean something legally. They wanted it to be right and just.
They wanted their marriage to be affirmed before all, and for it to
have meaning under the law. They wanted it to be recognized just as it
was for other American citizens. They wanted that ideal that exists
deep in our country's heritage, flowing through all of our roots, that
they together as a couple could have a life, could have liberty, and
could pursue their happiness.
However, for them at that time, equality and freedom for all in our
country was an ideal that was seemingly far off. But I will tell my
colleagues this: What I love about America is that we cannot slow down
the dream of freedom and equality. It marches forward. Look at history
and we see all of the attempts to stop these fundamental ideals of
freedom and equality under the law. People and tyrants, with brutality,
try to chain our freedom, try to beat it back. They try to assassinate
its advocates, but just as the Statue of Freedom sits on the Capitol
dome, freedom rises, and it will come.
Jim and John watched the progress march in our country as so many of
us did with encouragement. Painfully slowly but steadily it marched
forward. As they watched and waited, they went on living their lives of
love together. For almost 20 years, their union, their bond as
committed people with unconditional love continued.
Unfortunately, though, John began having problems walking. After
months of tests, doctors' appointments, prodding and probing, John was
diagnosed with ALS. The typical prognosis for a patient with ALS is
2\1/2\ to 5 years. Jim became John's primary caregiver. He leapt up. He
had unconditional love. There were trying times, but he said he
considered it a privilege to care for his life's love.
Two years after John's diagnosis in 2013, when he was receiving
hospice care and was confined to a hospital bed in their Cincinnati
home, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of Edith Windsor, declaring that
the Defense of Marriage Act was unconstitutional. That decision set the
stage for an even greater national movement toward marriage equality.
It set the stage--after years of struggle and fights and sacrifice for
equal rights--for equality under the law, for love to be affirmed in
marriage between two Americans, to be affirmed and equally recognized,
not condemned, not banned, not made illegal. So on a warm day in June,
after 20 years of love, commitment, and building a life together, it
was at this moment that Jim leaned over to John, sitting there in his
hospital bed, kissed him, and proposed: ``Let's get married.''
Because Ohio has yet to recognize marriage equality, and with John
confined to his bed, this was going to be challenging. Their options
were limited. Transporting John to a State that would recognize their
marriage would require a special medically equipped airplane, and it
would require a lot of money they did not have. Jim asked for ideas on
Facebook, and people came forward. Unprompted, Jim and John's friends
raised $13,000 to cover the entire cost of a specially chartered
medical plane.
A few weeks later, Jim, John, and John's Aunt Paulette, who became
ordained to perform the service, boarded a plane in Ohio that took off
and landed nearby in Maryland. In this State, they recognize marriage
equality. In this State, they recognized the love of two American
citizens. And for 7\1/2\ minutes, on the tarmac at Baltimore-Washington
International Airport, John and Jim, two Americans, had their wedding.
Sitting on the tarmac, Jim, holding the hands of his partner of 20
years--whose hands lacked dexterity and strength--said this to John:
We met for the first time, my life didn't change, your life
didn't change. We met a second time, still nothing changed.
Then we met a third time, and everything changed. As you
recently said, it was love at third sight, and for the past
twenty years, six months and eleven days, it's been love at
every sight.
In a cramped medical airplane, John's aunt began the formal vows. She
started to say, ``Take each other's hands,'' but then realized they had
never let go of each other's hands.
They exchanged their rings, Jim helping John place the ring on his
own finger, and after the ceremony they left that Maryland tarmac to
fly back. Jim and John arrived home to the realities of a disease like
ALS. John was dying. And while they had taken their eternal vows
together, while their marriage was affirmed by love, affirmed by this
unbreakable commitment, affirmed by loving family and by friends,
affirmed to be legal by the State of Maryland, their marriage was
disavowed by their home State--the State John would eventually die in.
[[Page S2099]]
These men at this time decided to work with a civil rights attorney
because they feared that even after their actions on their part, John's
death certificate would list him as unmarried--an assault on the
dignity of two great men. His life with his partner--their 20 years of
love and commitment and ultimate affirmation of those years--their
marriage would mean nothing according to the government. They feared
that on this document--the last documentation of his life--that their
life of love and commitment would be denied by their government. On
this paper their marriage would be denied--negated, disallowed.
John, who married to the love of his life, died in his home State and
was listed on that final government document as single. With their
attorney, the men filed a lawsuit to have John and Jim's marriage
legally recognized in Ohio. A week and a half after their marriage, a
district judge in Ohio ruled to recognize their wedding, but that was
just the start of a long legal fight.
In the last few months of John's life, Jim worked with the attorney
to continue to fight for recognition of their citizenship rights as
Americans. People would ask Jim: Why, when your husband is dying, would
you use your last days together to fight this? Jim's response was
simple: Why not?
Jim could not think of any better way to honor his husband, to live
up to his vows, and to demonstrate the power of his love, the power of
their commitment, the power of love in our world, other than to fight
this injustice.
A little over 3 months after their marriage, the inevitable
eventually arrived. John passed away at the young age of 48. Amidst his
overwhelming grief, Jim found a small but substantive source of
consolation. On his death certificate he was listed as married with
Jim's name listed as his surviving spouse.
The State of Ohio appealed the decision to list John as married.
Their government went to court to strip him and his beloved of this
recognition and won. State officials made it their mission to change
John Arthur's death certificate.
Jim Obergefell now stands as a named plaintiff in an appeal to the
U.S. Supreme Court, the highest Court in the land, to have he and his
husband's fundamental rights recognized--that their vows and commitment
be worthy of recognition as American citizens. They have joined with
cases from three other States also seeking that affirmation of
citizenship, of equality under the law. Together, all these cases have
come to represent the cause of paving the way for marriage equality to
become a reality in our Nation.
Jim and John's story is moving. It is being heard in a building
across the street with these words emblazoned over its doors, ``Equal
Justice Under Law.'' Their story is heartbreaking. It is inspiring, but
unfortunately in our Nation right now it is all too common. This story
of theirs about the persistent, unyielding, and indefatigable love
conquering indifference about our ideals of equality conquering
inequality in our country. This call is in their hearts for each other
reflects the larger call for our country for itself, for us to live our
truth. It calls that question forward, what kind of country will we be?
Will we be the Nation of love and freedom and equality? Will we be the
Nation that every single generation has had people standing up for
these ideals, people pushing to March forward for our country these
ideals. This is not a question about sexual orientation or race or
gender, it is a question about whether our country will live up to the
ideals we say every time we pledge allegiance to our flag: ``. . .
liberty and justice for all.''
Will we have equality under the law or will we tolerate a government
that denies some citizens fundamental rights while granting them to
others? This is the question that is being called.
It is a question that echoes throughout our history--Sojourner Truth,
standing in Akron, OH, at the Women's Convention, calling the question,
``Ain't I a woman?''
It is a question by my family members that I heard, standing strong,
saying defiantly: I am a man. I, too, am an American citizen.
Proclaiming those words, generation after generation have strained at
chains, have fought Jim Crowe. It is what Susan B. Anthony said when
she said, ``It is we the people; not we, the white male citizens; nor
yet we, the male citizens; but we, the whole people, who formed the
Union. . . . ''
This is the ideal--the love of our country, the sacrifice for our
principles, this ideal that has been fought for generation after
generation. The question was called by abolitionists, by suffragettes:
Will we be a nation with liberty and justice for all?
Throughout our history the question would call: Will we have freedom
for all? Will truth march on--as it did in Selma, as it gathered in
church basements and protested at Stonewall and came together at Seneca
Falls. Will we live our truth, despite the assassinations of its
advocates such as Milk and King, Matthew Shepard or Emmitt Till? Will
our march come to fruition to fight for recognition of full citizenship
beyond race, beyond creed, beyond color, beyond orientation? It is this
dream that must be secured for all of our citizens as Langston Hughes
said so clearly: ``There is a dream in this land with its back against
the wall, to save the dream for one, we must save the dream for all.''
We fight for this dream here. The time is now. The anguish has gone
on long enough. And I will tell you I found out just preparing my
remarks that we still face these weary years and too many silent tears.
I sat with staff members and learned of some of their struggles right
here as Capitol Hill employees. One of my young staffers shared that he
entered his adult life unsure if his full citizenship rights would be
an option in his lifetime. Could he have equality under the law? Could
he be married? Similar to many gay men and lesbians decades before him,
he was afraid his country would cast his love as less meaningful at
best or at worst vile and immoral. Yet today, in this case before the
Supreme Court, it makes him hopeful that we can live in a country that
one day recognizes his love, his value, his dignity, as being equal
under the law.
Another staff Member told me he feared that his coming out as gay
would mean his own family would never accept him. He shared what he
described as a defining moment in his own valuation of his self-worth
when he came out as gay to his deeply religious grandmother. She held
his hands tightly in her own and looked him in the eyes and proclaimed,
``I will always love you, and I will love anyone who loves you.''
All across America right now there are weary years, silent tears,
unspoken pain in the country that does not value the dignity, worth,
and citizenship rights of too many.
What message does it send? How many stand in uncertainty and fear and
despair that threatens to consume the potential of young people? I see
the data of suicide rates rising for our gay, lesbian, bisexual, and
transgender teens. We cannot give any implicit support for any idea
that they are worth less or are lesser citizens, and we all should come
together and condemn so-called therapies that purport to change who
people are at their core, as if it is not enough, as if they are not
worthy. All across the country this struggle is going on, from
intimate, personal struggles to public fights--stories of love meeting
fear, stories of hope meeting despair, our families and communities
coming together to stand and say that I am an American. I am a citizen.
I deserve equality under the law.
As Jackie Robinson said then, and it is true now: ``The right of
every American to first-class citizenship is the most important issue
of our time.''
Jim and John and all Americans have a right not to second-class
citizenship but first-class citizenship, to honor their first-class
love.
I am a prisoner of hope today. I am not going to let disappointment
after disappointment undermine my infinite sense of hope for our
country. The history of our Nation is a screaming testimony of a
perpetual achievement of freedom and light and truth overcoming
inequality and hatred. Just 3 years ago, only six States and
Washington, DC, had marriage equality, with 34 million Americans living
in marriage equality States. Now 37 States and DC have marriage
equality, meaning 224 million Americans now live in States that honor
equal rights to marry. This movement has been a strong validation of
our country's history. It is a shining example of
[[Page S2100]]
progress. However, just because the arc of history always bends toward
justice does not mean it will not meet resistance. As King said,
``Change never rode in on the wheels of inevitability.''
We are the architects of our Nation. We are the truth tellers, life
workers, and lovers that must exult our principles. We cannot fail now.
Love is on the line. Citizenship is on the line. We are interdependent.
We need each other. We cannot deny the worth of one American without
denying the worth, dignity, and strength of our Nation as a whole.
The story of Jim Obergefell and John Arthur is a story not just of
unconditional love and unconditional hope, it is not just about the two
of them, but it is about our country. This is the story of all of us--
of America. It is a story of what our truth will be. One member of this
incredible partnership has passed away, but I know their love marches
on.
I believe in this country our truth will march on, and equality and
justice will have its way.
Madam President, I yield to my colleague, the Senator from Ohio.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Ohio.
Mr. BROWN. Madam President, Senator Sessions wants to speak in a
moment, and I will be brief.
I would like to thank Senator Booker for his always stirring words
and for his sense of justice and fair play and leadership in so many
ways.
I met Jim about 1 year ago and had a brief meeting, not too long
after the court decision by Judge Black in the Cincinnati Southern
District Court in Ohio. I just spent a half an hour with him in my
office. He never wanted and never expected to be famous. He never
expected to come to Washington to meet with Senators. He never expected
to travel the country giving speeches. He was once a high school
teacher. He joked that more people have been with him as he traveled
across the country, joked that when he spoke to crowds of hundreds or
even 1,000 about his experience with his beloved John and what has
happened, he wished that his students had listened to him so closely.
You could hear a pin drop when he spoke to hundreds, which is not
always the case when speaking as a high school teacher. But he wanted
to live his life in a normal way as most Americans do. He never
expected to have his story or his marriage litigated before the U.S.
Supreme Court.
But that is really the mark of character, that Jim has taken his
grief and his pain and hoped to change the world, and that is what he
is doing. His marriage is still not equal in my State of Ohio. I am
embarrassed by that. I was, frankly, embarrassed when Ohio, 10 years
ago, passed a constitutional amendment outlawing same-sex marriage. I
thought it was a terrible public policy mistake. I think it left too
many people behind and too many people heartbroken.
Jim and his late husband John Arthur's story is one of love and
sacrifice. It could happen to anyone. It could happen to any of us.
Frankly, it happens to too many families. So as Senator Booker pointed
out, they flew to Maryland where John's aunt, Paulette Roberts,
officiated their marriage on the tarmac in a medical plane.
Paulette remarked, ``If marriage vows mean anything, then those two
were more married than anyone I have ever known.'' That speaks to their
commitment, it speaks to their love, to the seriousness with which they
took their wedding vows, and the seriousness of the relationship for 20
years prior to that.
Just 3 months and 11 days later John passed away. Jim has been
fighting for his marriage ever since. The question is, why should he
have to do that? No one ever voted to allow my wife Connie and me to
stand before our families and acknowledge our love and commitment. When
we were married, we were benefitting from a right not--get this--a
right not extended to the minister who officiated our wedding.
The woman who officiated our wedding, Kate Huey, had had a marriage--
she had had a commitment ceremony 18 years earlier. It was not until
late last year that she traveled to New York with the woman she loved
and was officially married, legally married in New York. You still
cannot do that in Ohio. It is outrageous that she cannot do that in
Ohio. I am hopeful after Jim's case is argued a couple of weeks from
now and the Court hands down that decision, it will stop that bigotry
and inequality that has hidden under the banner of tradition for far
too long.
Keep in mind--and Senator Booker, I thought, laid out a lot of this
history very well--Ohio once passed laws to keep Black people and White
people from marrying. Ohioans came together, as we always do, we
rallied, we repealed that unjust and hateful antimiscegenation law. We
have a long history of fighting for justice and equality. We will not
rest until we achieve that justice for Jim and for John.
I look at the pages who sit before us who are mostly 16 and 17-years-
old. This is something that makes no sense to most of them. When I was
talking to Jim earlier in my office, he had made a speech in Athens,
OH, to Ohio University students. He told me most of them could not
understand why State laws would prohibit somebody from marrying the
person whom they love. They could not understand why the State
government, the Ohio State government, would spend my tax dollars and
Jim's tax dollars, the tax dollars of Hazel's parents--mother of the
page from Ohio--the tax dollars of all of us to fight this court battle
so that Jim's marriage would be denied.
If the Supreme Court rules in Jim's favor, and I think it will, Jim's
name will go down in the history books, along with Roe, from Roe v.
Wade; and Brown, in Brown v. Board of Education. It is not what Jim was
after. It would be fitting for a love that spanned decades and was
strong enough to carry Jim here to Washington. The moment has come for
our Supreme Court to stand on the right side of history and join
Americans who support marriage equality.
As Senator Booker said, 37 States and the District of Columbia now
allow marriage equality. I do not like it that we have to rely on the
Supreme Court to get my State to change its laws. We have politicians
who look backward rather than forward. That is too bad. We have
politicians who are willing to deny human beings basic rights, basic
civil rights, basic rights of decency and fairness.
I am hopeful that Jim's courage and Jim's outspokenness and Jim's
willingness to join on behalf of John in his fight and make this fight
will help change my State and help change our Nation. I know I cannot
look to the gallery and thank somebody so I will not look to the
gallery, but I will still thank Jim from here.
I yield the floor.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Alabama.
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