Open Writing

San Francisco - City Hall front steps

I am sitting on the vast portico of city hall at the front door - on the cold, stone floor, back to the stairway - a great view to see this day.

They go in the front door and out the back - hundreds, maybe a thousand by now since Thursday's decision to allow gay men and women to marry in San Francisco.

I can't decide if its a huge deal or no big deal. Sure, for the couples married today its a huge deal - I expect some have waited years for this moment to come; and it is a wedding after all, that's a big deal for anyone. It is also just one more wedding Saturday in the US - tens of thousands of couples across the county are getting married today - married to the people they love. So maybe its not a big deal.

On Thursday morning the first wedding took place - a couple in their 80s, together for 51 years.
The logistics are immense. In secrecy, under the radar, San Francisco's new mayor ordered procedures and paperwork changed to allow gay and lesbian marriages in the city. City Hall is abuzz. Bureaucrats unaccustomed to Saturday hours keep the paper flowing (bless them),
off duty sheriffs provide security, Supervisors and judges are drafted to perform the marriages.
An army of volunteers has been deputized to bare witness, check paperwork, man the photocopiers and keep the lines moving. Meeting rooms, hallways and corridors, stairways and offices have been turned into makeshift marriage venues.

A line of hopefuls stretches past the vast Palladian frontage of city hall, around the main domed building to almost double back on itself - I don't know how many but its a lot.

It has been like that since early this morning. Good natured - some anxiously scanning the booklet of forms they have been given to complete.

It is true - celebration is in the air. You can feel it. It is the collective rush from hundreds of acts of civil disobedience and the elation of being married At Last.

Steve just called me from Palm Springs - he had no idea this was going on and wondered if it was Stonewall all over again - perhaps a defining moment? Who knows - for today I get the impression that no one in the line really cares.

They will tomorrow.

Traffic on Van Ness Avenue is thick - the curious, the supporters, the bewildered. Car horns sound - strangers hailing strangers - heartfelt support for people they will never know or meet.

There are many of us here to write it down, photograph and film it. CNN is here - they have a huge satellite broadcast truck parked a hundred feet away - cameramen and finely coiffed reporters take the best viewing spots - bright lights are on - it must be news time on the east coast.

I have rehearsed a few words in case I am asked - something about a British perspective on all this. Better to be ready than bumble like an idiot on international television - I suppose.

So what does it look like? Well its clearly a gay and lesbian crowd - - mostly San Francisco casual. It also looks like a long process - paperwork, questions, nothing is clear, waiting and waiting.

There are all kinds of course - professional types and admins, nurses and construction workers, physicians and attorneys. The gay men favour red roses the lesbians carry orchids or twigs of newly blooming cherry blossom.

I have tried to figure out the age of this crowd - no theme yet. A lesbian couple - she 50, she 60 - black leather jacket, scarlet sweater, blond hair on the shoulder, plain not pretty - broad smiles worn by both.

Heart shaped "Freedom to Marry" stickers - red, white and blue - are the badge of choice - CNN's cameraman has one on the side of his bulky camera. A gay couple - he 38, he 45 -, neat hair, black business suits, open collar, red rose in lapel - broad smiles both.

Friends (and some family) abound, providing giddy support, taking pictures with digital cameras.

Volunteers. A man and his wife have been watching the scene with me - he plucks up courage and sidles over to a city official. "Can we volunteer to help?" Turns out no more volunteers are needed today, but they should come back in the morning - around 9.

He turns to his wife - "You do want to volunteer don't you?" "I don't know" she says as if nervous about getting too involved. He is patient - it looks like they do this a lot. "Well, you need to tell me right now" "OK", she says and off they go.

I decide to be there at 9 in the morning (and I am).

SF City Hall back steps.

A small crowd of the curious has gathered to support, cheer and gawp as the newly weds emerge - this is where they come out.

The blue application form is gone, now replaced by a piece of green paper. This small piece of green paper is what it is all about - the marriage certificate.

Most hold their certificate tight with both hands as if the wind or a lurking Jerry Fallwell will snatch it away.

The couples are more relaxed now the ordeal is over - there is a great difference between the before and after digital pictures. The paperwork is done, the wait is over, wedding day nerves are under control - relief is evident and the broad smiles have turned to laughter.

Some display their licenses over head, in triumph - they are rewarded by honks of approval from passing cars, whoops and applause from the small crowd.

The City is handing out little cup cakes to the bubbling couples as they descend the red carpeted steps - the lesbians generally decline, the gay men generally accept - I don't see a correlation between body mass and the cup cake decision so it can't be diet - maybe its genetic. I'll think about it and get back to you.

Back to the front steps and some bad news for those still in the line. The mayor's aide wields his grey bull horn and tells them that city hall is closed for the day and to come back tomorrow - each couple will get a ticket to move them to the head of tomorrow's line in recognition of having waited so long today.

Small consolation - faces sink and brows wrinkle - there is real shock at having gotten this far only to be turned back. This is not the ending to the day they had hoped. But these people will be back on the 15th - (I see many of them there).

Today's clothes will be worn tomorrow - perhaps the flowers will spend the night in the refrigerator. The champagne will be drunk anyway and replaced. There is some good news: 302 couples were married today - 680 so far since Thursday. On a normal day the city processes 30 marriages - today they processed 50 an hour - not bad.

So how do we feel about all of this? Well for sure, the world has not ended - America's moral fibre did not decay - and most Americans probably did not even notice.

The threat of some nut driving-by and spraying the line with an Uzi did not happen.

This Tuesday's legal injunctions against the city will certainly call a halt to the beautiful madness that has descended. But I kind of like the idea of civil disobedience - it feels good to push back and take control - if only for a little while.

My hands are cold and my fingers no longer type...time to go.