[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 161 (2015), Part 4]
[Senate]
[Pages 4754-4756]
[From the U.S. 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.
  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

[[Page 4755]]

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 progress. However, 
just because the arc

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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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