Dear Mr. President

The tale of our meeting (in both the extended version and this super-compressed one) has become the favorite story of our lives. To both of us our meeting had a fairytale quality that to this day feels like destiny—not unlike, I’m sure, countless other couples in love all over the world. It was a special moment for us that changed our lives forever. Now, 25 years later it is still a special moment and one that we make a point of celebrating with as many people as possible.

At the time of our tenth anniversary back in 1988, the devastation of AIDS was rapidly becoming more than any of us could stand, and so we turned our anniversary party into a fundraiser. That year we raised $6,000 for AIDS and began a tradition that last year cleared $178,000 for local non-profit organizations. Over the years, we’ve raised almost $1,500,000. Not much by your fundraising standards, I’m sure, but not at all bad for a little town with a population less than 1,500.

A long time ago, the party—a two night event called Sundance—grew beyond being just an anniversary party. But somehow, 16 years later, our whole town seems to know that in the midst of the work that it takes to produce an event of this size, we’re still celebrating a deep and abiding love for one another. From the ministers and parishioners of local churches, to the press, politicians, local authorities, police and fire chiefs, and area business owners come the well wishes for another year together.

Because the world does not exactly celebrate gay unions, we’ve always felt that it was important for us to do so ourselves. The support that has built up around us over the years is amazing, and every time someone says, "congratulations," or "happy anniversary," it honors the life we share together in a way that our country does not.

I grew up in Alabama, the oldest son of a Methodist preacher—both my grandfathers and their fathers were Methodist preachers as well. From the first moment I told my family about Steve, they opened their arms to him, and we have always been treated the same as my brothers and sister and their spouses. In most ways our life is not so different from that of the rest of the members of my family, except that they have the rights and benefits that come with marriage and to which Steve and I are not entitled.

This country was founded by people looking for freedom. Our Constitution was written by people who envisioned a country that respected the differences of others. Over the years, America has been blessed by this Constitution and we have grown steadily toward a place that seeks to abolish discrimination and that strives to provide liberty for all its people. To write discrimination and bigotry into the Constitution, to use it to take away rights, is a terrible step in the wrong direction.

It was not so many years ago that interracial marriage caused as big a stir as the issue of gay marriage is causing today. In fact, there was even an effort to amend the Constitution to ban the marriage between "persons of color and Caucasians," forever. Attitudes about race have obviously changed over the years, and it seems inevitable that the same will hold true for sexual orientation. Perhaps we have not quite arrived at the point where it doesn’t matter, but that point is coming.

I know you are a religious man, Mr. President—and also that many conservative Christians view gays and lesbians as more the enemy than brothers and sisters. Yet the Bible clearly paints a picture of Jesus as a man who forced change, a man who challenged worn out laws and attitudes that hurt others, a man who would be at home with all of us regardless of our age, our skin color, our religious beliefs, or our sexual orientation.