Elizabeth Beglin ( right ) and Pam Lee.__________
We were surprised—actually, admittedly stunned—after Thursday's court ruling struck down Iowa's marriage laws limiting marriage to a 'man and a woman,' thus paving the way for Pam and I to be wed in the Hawkeye State. We didn't think it would happen here in the heartland, at least not yet. After an evening charity fundraiser, Pam and I re-read the court decision, and I proposed. Admittedly, it wasn't romantic. But, after 20 years, we were past the 'tryout stage.' We went to bed thinking, 'Did this really happen?'
As a former head coach at the University of Iowa, a 1984 bronze medalist and 1988 Olympic team captain, I had represented Iowa in the national and international athletic arena in a first-class manner. On Friday, Pam and I almost became first-class citizens.
Awake at dawn on Friday, Pam and I reached a mutual decision: We should do this. Knowing a judicial stay was only a matter of time, we grabbed the computer, and printed an application. The form created our first dilemma: Who wanted to be the 'Groom' and who wanted to be the 'Bride,' as those were the designated categories and the only choices. Could we cross out 'Groom' and each be a 'Bride'? Would this invalidate the form? Are we really having a discussion about this? OK, flip a coin. I am the groom; Pam is the bride.
First bridge crossed; now, we needed a witness. That decision was easy. At 7 a.m., we called Sally, our friend and neighbor. 'Hello, Sally, what are you doing this morning?' I asked. She responded after a momentary pause: 'Why?' I didn't hesitate. 'Pam and I wanted to know if you would be our witness for our marriage application. We can't think of anyone else we would rather have.' An emotional Sally replied, 'I would be honored.' My own eyes welled as I realized our marriage was an actual possibility.
'We'll meet you at the Recorder's Office at 8.'
'I'm sorry, but the Judge's ruling is valid only in Polk County [ Des Moines ] , the local recorder told us. Pam and I exchanged glances. 'Let's go.' Our first stop was the courthouse, where Sally validated our marriage application by signing as a 'disinterested' witness, confirming our identities in front of a notary, and my co-workers.
We were not quite sure who was more excited at the idea of our instant wedding, my co-workers or us. Just as Sally was about to sign, Iris stopped the proceedings, grabbed Meredith's 'Welcome Back from Maternity Leave' bouquet, divided it in half and handed each of us a floral arrangement for the signing ceremony. Pam and I traded 'Bride' and 'Groom' signs while flashbulbs popped. We hopped in the Miata, top-down on a hot summer day, and bolted.
On the way to Des Moines, Pam and I made our invitation list, discussed reception dates, picked music and ironed out the details of the wedding we would hold for friends and family. We were excited about a possibility that had been long closed to us. Imagine having the same legal protections as every other married couple!
Inside the Polk County Administration Building, we headed toward the recorder's office, traversing a hallway crowded with TV crews and cameras. We had our application signed and notarized, and headed to the courthouse with an application to waive the three-day waiting period, which required a judge's signature. Our plan was to get the waiver signed, file it, get our marriage license and be married back in Iowa City. Waiting to see the judge, we were seated in a courtroom outside his office door and heard him on the phone. When he hung up, Pam and I introduced ourselves, and explained our request. His response was devastating:
'I apologize for having to give you bad news, but I just spoke with the judge who authored yesterday's decision. He just issued an immediate stay of his ruling, pending appeal to the Iowa Supreme Court. I am so sorry.'
Before we left Iowa City Friday morning, we knew this was the possible, even likely, outcome of our marriage attempt. We knew we had limited time, and that an appeal and stay could occur at any minute. We thought we had steeled ourselves against disappointment. Yet, when it came, it hurt more than we could ever have imagined. Deflated, we walked silently to hand back our notarized application. We left Des Moines with a file-stamped marriage application. It awaits a decision by the Iowa Supreme Court. Funny—when something isn't legally permissible for a class of individuals to which you belong, you can fool yourself into believing it doesn't matter. However, when something as fundamental as marriage becomes a reality—even for a few hours—it is difficult to return to that state of denial. Marriage, with all the rights and responsibilities, matters to us. For 20 years, we have gladly shared in its responsibilities. Friday, we hoped we could finally avail ourselves of its rights.
We left the Administration building, driving to the same restaurant we dined at two years ago after I was deemed morally fit to practice law as a member of the Iowa Bar. I was, that day, sworn in before some of the same justices who will decide whether I should have the same rights as the Iowans for whom I legally advocate. As Pam and I unsuccessfully attempted to blink back our tears, we tried to focus on what we will remember from this day: our love, and the support of our friends, family and co-workers. Thank you from the bottom of our broken hearts.
Elizabeth Beglin
Assistant Johnson County Attorney
Former University of Iowa Head Field Hockey Coach ( 1988-2000 )
1980 Olympian, 1984 Bronze Medalist, 1988 Olympic Team Captain
