Gay marriages in SB county

By Robert Rogers

Staff Writer

SAN BERNARDINO -- A historic court ruling came into full-view Tuesday morning as gay and lesbian couples across the state flocked to county offices to be married.

Here in San Bernardino County, dozens of same-sex couples were married at the County Hall of Records on Hospitality Lane.

The ceremonies and licensing went off without a hitch, and protests did not materialize.
While tears of joy were common, there was a sense of quiet reservation.

Four years ago, thousands of gay couples were married in San Francisco, only to be disallowed a few months later by the same court that has approved gay marriages today.

California is just the second state in the nation to permit same-sex marriage.

But that could change in November, when a ballot measure backed by conservative group gives voters the option of defining marriage as a union between a "man and a woman," in effect rescinding the court's decision.

The scenes and emotions ran the gamut inside and outside the County Hall of Records' glass facade. Young couples cried and described the added joy of forming a union they had never thought possible. Older couples spoke of lifetimes shut out of marriage and what the inclusion means for their struggle for equal rights.

County workers hailed the day as a smooth transition that came off without a hitch.
The history-making day was made possible by the same California Supreme Court, which on May 15 struck down California laws prohibited such same-sex marriages.

The ruling allowed California to join Massachusetts, which legalized same-sex marriage in 2004, as the second state in the nation to make the move. In Massachusetts, more 10,000 same-sex couples have wed.

No matter what happens, county leaders said their first priority was to provide marriage services to all couples.

"Customer service is our priority," said Auditor/Controller-Recorder Larry Walker. "All couples are entitled to our best service."

Like in most counties statewide, marriages in San Bernardino began with the opening of the County Clerk's offices at 8 a.m. Couples paid $40 for ceremonies and $73 for marriage licenses. Both prices will go up by $10 July 1.

But the real story was the people who were coaxed out to tie the knot by a new legal status that suddenly recognized their partnership.

Other people were there too, each touched in their own way by this historic moment.
Here are their stories ...

***

Diane Martinez didn't want any spotlight. Tuesday was a day that would live in history as the first time the county performed same-sex marriages.

As a deputy commissioner of civil marriages - ie. the person who conducts the service - Martinez just wanted to don her black robe and do her duty.

But she couldn't deny the emotions that roiled inside her. For 15 years, she has conducted traditional marriages. Tuesday, that changed.

Asked after one of the same-sex marriages she performed if it felt any different to pronounce same-sex couples married, Martinez replied that it just made her feel "happy."
Later in the day, Martinez, who isn't supposed to voice an position on the matter, was slightly more loquacious, with fit well with her beaming smile.

"This is a historic day, and I just want to do my job right," she said. "But I am happy; marriages have a way of making me feel that way."

***

Billy Cross is 55 and his partner, who would only identify himself as Denny, is 66. They've been true to each other since 1974.

"We come from an era when this wasn't even a consideration," Cross said.
They married Tuesday. It wasn't because they felt any different being married. It was in support of gays and lesbians everywhere.

"After 34 years together, we didn't need to prove our commitment to one another or anybody else," said Cross, a special education teacher. "But we wanted to be a part of this history and actively support others."

Later, after they were joined, Cross and his partner hung around for hours to serve as a witness for other couples who might need one.

***

Julie LaMontagne fretted that her eye mascara might be smeared.

"I don't want to look like Tammi Faye Baker here," she said.

She didn't, but she did tear up. Getting married can do that to a woman.

LaMontagne, 48, of Redlands, wed Paulina Martinez, 45. The women have been together 19 years.

LaMontagne said she was excited to secure the same rights and privileges afforded other married couples, as well as a new level of social acceptance, in marrying Martinez, who works as a Cal State San Bernardino professor.

Both were also adamant that they thought the tide would continue in their favor.

"I really did expect this to happen at some point," LaMontagne said. "We are optimistic that the majority of people are on our side, and we know God is on our side."

***

Greg Young, 41, acted as a serial witness. Under state law, marriages must have one witness beyond the person conducting the ceremony.

Young, a single gay man from Victorville, served as a witness for a number of marriages.

"I wouldn't want anyone to get here and not fulfill their dream," he said.

***

Jennifer and Jennifer stood out because they dressed alike.

Jennifer Alkire, 23, and her partner, also named Jennifer Alkire after their marriage, came all the way from Joshua Tree.

They both wore black boardshorts with white flowers, white t-shirts and flip-flops.
"That's just us, doing something different," said 21-year-old Jennifer, the blonde one.
Brunette, 23-year-old Jennifer, noted the absence of protesters.

"I think the country is growing up as a whole," she said. "Even in San Bernardino County, no protesters. That tells me that minds are opening."

***

Lindsay Bass and Juliana Simmons had no family at their wedding, just one supportive friend. Both young (Bass is 27 and Simmons 30) but emotional and fiercely protective of one another, the two women cried during their four-minute outdoor ceremony.

They sealed their vows with a kiss.

"We didn't want to miss this opportunity because we never know what can happen," said Bass, who works with her new wife at a restaurant. Bass is a server; Simmons a bartender. Both live in Highland.

Simmons was more adamant. Wiping away tears with the back of her hand, her eyes a mix of vulnerability and steel, Simmons said she didn't know the law but knew what was in her heart.

"If it's done now ... this, what we did now, can't be taken away," Simmons said.

***

Patti Vander Kamp wore a rainbow tie to her wedding. She wed Tracy Zollner, 38, as much as a social and political statement as an affirmation of love.

"We wanted to marry today, the first day, as a statement that now is the time," Vander Kamp said.

Both women said they were proud not only California for becoming just the second state to allow gay marriages, but San Bernardino County for providing a nice venue.

"It was an amazing experience," Vander Kamp said. "No protesters ... the whole thing was friendly and positive."

Vander Kamp, 58, and Zollner, live in the High Desert and have been together four years. After the ceremony they went separate ways.

"I have to get to work," Zollner said.

***

Wayne Howell was alone.

He wandered into the County Hall of Records around mid-morning, barely noticed by the roving throng of press and television cameras.

He greeted passersby with a smile and a nod, then, with the deftness of a salesman, pitched his services.

Howell, 56, is an ordained minister from Fontana. He offered to marry same-sex couples. He had no takers, at least initially.

Howell is also gay, he said, but it took him a while, and a nearly two decade marriage to a woman, to figure that out.

On Tuesday, he wasn't making any money, and he had no partner to hitch with. But Howell said he enjoyed himself all the same, thank you.

"I always knew this day would come," Howell said. "And there's no way I was going to miss it."

***

Mark Kimbrough, 48, and Donnie Lovett, 44, know all about being outcasts.

They moved to Apple Valley in 1995 from Alabama, where being gay men didn't win them a lot of friends or admirers.

"Look, we're from Alabama, we never thought we'd see this day," said Lovett, his southern twang intact.

But both men know all about inequality and trampled rights, and they clearly think of themselves as modern troopers in a new Civil Rights struggle.

"This is a dream come true for us, but it's about equality for all people," Lovett said.

***

Among the earliest to line up for a license were Rochelle Villanueva, 54, and Jennifer Kelly, 50, both of San Bernardino.

Their eyes sparkled with happiness.

Villanueva said she works in antiques. Kelly is disabled and not working, she said. The couple wore similar outfits, brown slacks and tan shirts as they waited at a window serving applicants at the county Hall of Records.

Villanueva said they had "been looking forward to marriage since five years after we were together." As of Tuesday their relationship had endured 17 years.