Why Just One Wedding Isn't Enough for Some Gay Couples
The Wall Street Journal
By Phred Dvorak
October 30, 2008

Daniel McNeil and Patrick Canavan joke they've been married four times -- to each other.

The "I do's" started with a Washington, D.C., church wedding in 1998. Since then, the two men, both 46 years old, have chased evolving laws across the U.S. to secure a civil union in Vermont, a domestic partnership in the District of Columbia and, in August, a marriage in California.

Daniel McNeil and Patrick Canavan have been "married" four times -- to each other.

The serial ceremonies provoke ribbing. "My straight siblings are like: You're pandering for gifts," says Mr. Canavan, a clinical psychologist and chief executive of St. Elizabeths Hospital in Washington.

But the odyssey of Messrs. McNeil and Canavan also shows how some same-sex couples tie themselves in knots to tie the knot -- and to garner in a piecemeal way the legal, social and emotional perks of marriage.

It's tough going. Three states recognize same-sex marriage. Eight others, plus more than 70 cities, offer civil unions or domestic partnerships with varying rights. The laws can affect everything from discounts on car rentals to hospital-visiting rights. None are recognized by the federal government for matters such as immigration, income taxes and Social Security benefits. The rules can change quickly. San Francisco issued thousands of marriage licenses to same-sex couples in February and March 2004 that were later invalidated by California's Supreme Court.

"How many times do we run through this drill?" asks Bart Broome, a political aide who had a commitment ceremony in 1995, a San Francisco marriage in 2004 and another in September -- all to Ronald Regina, his partner of 17 years.

In the latest twist, gay marriages, legal in California since a state Supreme Court ruling in May, could vanish again if voters approve a state constitutional amendment Tuesday.

That's prompting a last-minute rush to the altar, fueled by lawyers who say marriages before Election Day may continue to be valid even if the ballot measure passes. The measure, known as Proposition 8, doesn't specify that it will apply retroactively. A spokeswoman for the state attorney general's office says it expects prior marriages to remain valid.

Marriage-license applications in San Francisco this month have nearly tripled, to 1,965, from 726 in October a year ago. Three-quarters are same-sex couples; there are no available slots before the Tuesday vote. Statewide, more than 11,000 same-sex couples were married in the three months to Sept. 17, according to the Williams Institute of the University of California, Los Angeles Law School.

Last week in Sacramento, Laurie McBride remarried her partner of 23 years. The pair had previously taken part in a commitment ceremony, two domestic partnerships, a civil union and a Canadian wedding.

"We've had many opportunities to get the ceremony of our dreams -- actually, the ceremony of several dreams," says Ms. McBride, a longtime gay-rights lobbyist. Her favorite: the couple's 2003 wedding in Victoria, British Columbia, where both women wore silk tunics, and a Celtic band played.

Multiple marriages create more legal uncertainty. Karen Hong Yee, director of the San Francisco County clerk's office, says she tells gay couples they can't marry more than once. Ms. McBride says her lawyer disagrees, and views California marriages as more likely to stand up in California than Canadian marriages will if Proposition 8 passes.

Same-sex couples say they currently need multiple unions to cover the nation's uneven legal patchwork. States such as Massachusetts and New York recognize out-of-state same-sex marriages but don't recognize domestic partnerships. The reverse is true in Washington and Oregon, which recognize gay domestic partnerships but restrict marriage to a man and woman, says Jennifer Pizer, a senior counsel with Lambda Legal Defense and Education Fund, a gay civil-rights organization.

Ms. Pizer says she urges couples to obtain both a marriage and a domestic partnership. "We advise people to have a belt and suspenders, and then another pair of belt and suspenders," she quips.

Retired small-business owners Shelly Bailes and Ellen Pontac say they pack powers of attorney, their domestic-partnership papers and their marriage certificate when they travel.

When Messrs. McNeil and Canavan hired a lawyer to identify gaps in their partnership rights, they learned that they needed a separate document to pick up the partner's body after death.

The couple joke that undoing their partnerships would also take a lot of work: The California marriage and the Vermont civil union require at least one partner to live in state before applying for divorce or dissolution.

Mr. Canavan met Mr. McNeil, a bubbly former Franciscan brother and math teacher, in 1994, at a retreat for gay and lesbian Catholics. They moved in together and got engaged but wanted to demonstrate their commitment publicly. In October 1998, the grooms, in tuxedos, held a Catholic wedding ceremony at an Episcopal church congenial to gay marriages in Washington. The pair picked readings from the Bible and exchanged rings blessed by their Catholic priest, before family and 200 friends. They went to Spain on their honeymoon.

"It was probably the best day of my life," Mr. McNeil recalls, speaking of the marriage. But the ceremony didn't bind Messrs. McNeil and Canavan legally. So, in 2000, they went to Vermont to take advantage of the first state law offering marriage rights, in the form of a civil union.

The union had no force outside Vermont, but Messrs. McNeil and Canavan went ahead in the hope that would someday change. They performed the ceremony before a justice of the peace in tiny, picturesque Quechee, followed by a party at a local inn with a small group of friends.

In 2002, the District of Columbia started registering same-sex domestic partners. Messrs. McNeil and Canavan applied on their lunch break, becoming couple No. 16. This time, there was no pomp, just a meal at a sandwich shop. But the domestic partnership gave Mr. Canavan the right to put Mr. McNeil on his health plan. More rights accrued later.

"That was the first time there were real implications for our lives," says Mr. Canavan.

In 2003, they began proceedings to adopt two children in the District of Columbia -- a brother and sister, who were 7 and 9 at the time. That sparked additional reflection about their relationship. The children asked Messrs. McNeil and Canavan whether they were married; the men weren't sure how to answer. "You want to say, 'Yeah, we're married. Yup, we're a forever family,'" says Mr. Canavan. But the men had to admit they weren't legally hitched.

When California allowed same-sex marriages in May, Messrs. McNeil and Canavan jumped at the chance. In early August, they flew to San Francisco with their son and daughter for a ceremony with a few friends in City Hall. The children acted as witnesses. Messrs. McNeil and Canavan then had their second honeymoon in Napa Valley.

Mr. McNeil says the wedding felt more like a 10th anniversary. It doesn't confer any additional rights for the couple back home in Washington. But Mr. McNeil says he now feels emboldened to check the "married" box on things like insurance and health forms.

He hopes this marriage will last, but he's cautious. "You never quite know how these things will change: A law will slip away, the Constitution could get changed," he says. "You grab what you can when it's there."