Could Delaware’s Wedding Bells Ring in a Drift from the South?
It was the day after Rhode Island passed its marriage equality law, and the talk jocks on a local radio show in Orlando were discussing the fast-growing number of states where same-sex couples can get married.
“I hear Delaware will be next,” said one offhandedly. “But then who would want to get married in Delaware?”
As his co-hosts chuckled I found myself in a sudden fury, which is never a good thing when you’re driving your car on a busy highway. I grabbed my cell phone in an urge to call and read the on-air talent their collective beads about the virtues of the “small wonder” state. Fortunately, before I could plow my car into a truck in the adjacent lane, I realized I had no idea what the station’s phone number was or even what its call letters were.
While one of the jocks giggled the lyrics to an ancient Perry Como song, “What did Della wear, boy, what did Della wear?” I tossed my not-so-smart phone onto the passenger seat, took a deep breath and pushed the radio’s button to a music station.
More than 12 years after moving from Rehoboth to Florida in search of warmer winters, I still become incensed whenever someone says something stupid—or indicates a complete lack of knowledge about—John’s and my old home state.
So many people I encounter down here know only that Delaware is little, or they’re confident in their belief that it’s a landlocked New England state stuck somewhere between Rhode Island and Vermont.
“Why do they call it Rehoboth Beach?” someone asked me recently, and I started to explain that Rehoboth means “room for all.”
“No.” The questioner stopped me. “Why do they call it Beach? Is there a lake there?”
Others have asked whether we miss the local maple sugar, and I have to tell them that Delaware is better known for blue crabs, funnel cakes, and low-cal chicken ‘n dumplings.
Fortunately, Mount Dora, the quaint Florida town near Orlando where we live, is an enclave of enlightenment, populated by many northern expats who do know better. The LGBT population is substantial and ever-growing, and John and I have been surprised by the number of people we’ve met who at one time in their lives lived or played in Rehoboth or on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
Many of those folks have become our close friends, including Dan O’Flaherty, former Rehoboth realtor who moved on to much success in Fort Lauderdale. Dan now has his primary home in Mount Dora, and he was gracious enough to host a huge 40th anniversary dinner party for John and me and about 80 of our friends on May 12. What’s more, in a classic small-world story, Dan has rented the home of my fellow (sister) Letters columnist Fay Jacobs for several weeks this summer while she and Bonnie travel, and he has invited us to come and stay a few days. We’re trying to figure out if our schedule will allow the visit, as we’d love to come. I must say, that while Fay and I both have been affiliated with CAMP Rehoboth for more than two decades, I never thought I might sleep in my fellow (sister) writer’s bed.
In recent months, as evidence mounted that Delaware would join the growing number of marriage-equality states, several of us Rehoboth alums in Florida have had conversations about the possibility of returning to Delaware to establish residency so that we can qualify for federal marriage benefits, including Social Security survivorship. Our banker friend Jack, who has met the love of his life since leaving Delmarva, is already “crunching the numbers” to see how the potential federal benefits (if they become available to same-sex spouses following a Supreme Court ruling this summer) as well as Delaware’s sales-tax free status stack up against living in Florida where there is no income tax.
To some that might sound like a rather calculating way to look at marriage, but to a banker calculation is practical life planning. And John and I think he’s wise to do the homework. Having spent most of our lives never dreaming that legal marriage would be a possibility for us, in recent years we’ve agreed to wait until wedlock means something more than a symbolic commitment. Our four decades together are enough to demonstrate to ourselves, our friends and extended family the enduring dedication we have to one another. Thus, our anniversary soiree was as momentous to us as a wedding bash might be to others.
We have numerous friends who reside here in Florida who can flash papers stating they’re married in one or more northern states—Sally and June have been joined in matrimony in three states. But their paperwork is not worth much more than a collection of pretty postcards indicating they’ve visited Boston, the Hudson Valley, and Dubuque.
But this may be the year all that changes, and this just might be the year that John and I prepare to take the proverbial plunge. If the 1000-plus federal benefits of marriage do become available to same-sex spouses, we’re in. And, if that means establishing residency in a marriage-equality state (as current Social Security law requires), we’ll do it.
So, I expect, will a lot of others, especially more mature couples who live in southern states where legislatures are years and years away from okaying gay marriage. Instead of the southern drift via which we’ve seen so many older gay people migrate to the balmier climes of Florida, we may be on the verge of a North Atlantic Drift where the warmth of marriage equality assures a sunnier future for all.
While John and I would likely keep a snowbird’s winter presence in Florida, our decision about which state we’d move to is a no-brainer now that Delaware has enacted marriage equality. We congratulate and thank every one of you who worked to make it happen—and I can’t help but reflect on how much wonderful progress has been achieved since Steve and Murray had the foresight nearly a quarter century ago to call the first community meeting to set up an LGBT support group in Rehoboth.
But I don’t want you Delawareans to fret that you’ll be overrun with hordes of flip-flop-wearing, flamingo-wielding gay and lesbian Floridians on the run for marriage licenses. Before the mass migration comes, a lot of people will first have to figure out where Delaware is.
Purchase Bill Sievert’s comic LGBT-themed mystery novel Sawdust Confessions at amazon.com. Email Bill Sievert