Across New Jersey, same-sex couples make it official

It was a lovely night for a wedding, and Monday evening, there were four celebrated outside Cherry Hill's municipal building.

Forward-thinking guests brought tissues as the couples - one together 33 years, another for 21, the other two with their young children in tow - vowed to love and honor each other "now and forever more," repeating after Mayor Chuck Cahn.

But it was these words uttered by Cahn that rose up a roar:

"By the authority of the laws of the State of New Jersey."

On Monday, marriage equality came to New Jersey.

From moments past midnight into the evening, it was a day of hugs, tears of joy, and history made as New Jersey celebrated its first same-sex weddings from Newark to North Cape May, and even more couples applied for marriage licenses for weddings to come.

By midmorning, supporters of marriage equality had yet another cause for celebration. The Christie administration withdrew its appeal of Superior Court Judge Mary C. Jacobson's decision allowing same-sex marriage.

On Friday, the state Supreme Court, which would have heard the appeal, issued a unanimous decision to deny the administration a stay of Jacobson's order to allow same-sex marriages beginning Monday.

"Although the governor strongly disagrees with the court substituting its judgment for the constitutional process of the elected branches or a vote of the people," an administration statement read, "the court has now spoken clearly as to their view of the New Jersey constitution and, therefore, same-sex marriage is the law."

Opponents of same-sex marriage such as John Tomicki, executive director of the League of American Families, accused the court of "legislating from the bench."

A Rutgers-Eagleton poll released Monday showed increased support of same-sex marriage. The poll found that 61 percent of 799 voters surveyed supported legalizing same-sex marriage and 53 were against the state's appeal of the decision.

On Monday, groups like the New Jersey American Civil Liberties Union and leading state Democrats welcomed the appeal's withdrawal.

"The governor did the right thing, finally," said Troy Stevenson, executive director of Garden State Equality, the advocacy group that was part of the lawsuit.

"It's a great day for equality in New Jersey," Stevenson said. "It's a great day for all the individuals who have been fighting for so long."

It had been a crazy few days and a whirlwind of activity for the couples who live in the handful of communities that broke away from a state directive and started processing marriage license applications last week, making it possible for them to wed Monday having satisfied the state's 72-hour-wait requirement. Among those communities were Collingswood and Cherry Hill.

Stevenson said that after many calls, he was able to find a judge in North Jersey willing to waive the 72-hour wait.

Just past midnight, "I do's" were uttered in Newark, in Lambertville, on the Asbury Park boardwalk, and in the Elizabeth home of State Sen. Raymond Lesniak. Through the day, there were more weddings in Jersey City and North Cape May.

Beth Asaro, 53, a Lambertville councilwoman, and Joanne Schailey, 56, a nurse, thought they were going to apply for their marriage license at midnight Monday and get married by Mayor David DelVecchio just past midnight Thursday. But then they learned this past Thursday that they did not have to wait 72 hours because they had been married in New York state.

Over the weekend, they flew into action, pulling together a reception for nearly 200 people, held before their marriage ceremony. The couple's 13-year-old daughter was the flower girl, as she had been at their civil-union ceremony in 2007.

Everything wasn't perfect. Lambertville only had an opposite-sex marriage certificate, so Asaro's name went on the groom line.

"What the heck. I've got a good sense of humor," she said.

She really wasn't complaining.

"We're floating on air," she said.

On the steps of a former elementary school and in between two large cornstalks wrapped as boutiques by pink ribbons to commemorate breast cancer month, Joan Buehler, 51, and Susan Stouder, 52, said their "I do's" about 6:15 p.m. in Collingswood.

Stouder beamed as she looked directly into Buehler's eyes as they exchanged vows.

About a half-dozen well wishers gathered on both sides of the couple as Mayor James Maley pronounced them married. Cheers, hugs, and honking from cars passing on Haddon Avenue ensued.

"Euphoria," said Buehler of how she felt. "I'm over the moon. I am so thrilled. I can't really describe it."

The couple met on a softball field in Fairmount Park 10 years ago as teammates.

"I think we were more disappointed it took this long," Buehler said. "It was really, really close in '06. New York and Delaware beat us. This was really important for this to be legal in New Jersey. We weren't going anywhere else to marry."

The marriage "validates us," Stouder said. "We don't have to worry about each other. If this hadn't happened, any day something could happen to her or myself, and there are no laws protecting what we can do for each other.

"Now, we don't have those worries," she said. "We have the exact same rights that anybody else does. It's very important, especially as we get older."

Buehler, a native New Jerseyan who belongs to a Catholic parish in Collingswood, gently draped her arm around her new wife and said: "I really wanted today [to get married] with the first day."

"As soon as we knew of the lower court's opinion, Oct. 21 was in my mind," Buehler said. "It was exceptionally important that we walked to our borough hall two blocks from where we live to apply for our license and both check 'F' on the box. We live here. This is our community."

"This was historical," said Maley, who will be presiding over a dozen same-sex marriages Friday. "I felt honored doing civil-union ceremonies, but more so with the first same sex marriage in Collingswood.

"Five years from now, this will all be just routine," he said.

In Cherry Hill, a Wegman's chipped in the cake, sparkling cider flowed, and many, many pictures were taken.

"It took 21 years for them to let us do this," said Rose Papa, 53, a corporate trainer, who married longtime partner Renai Hall, 52, a software trainer.

For Megan and Leigh Nachod, 46 and 37, Megan the director of an early childhood center and Leigh a housing consultant, this weekend was a blur of buying outfits, getting rings, the fun stuff.

But being able to wed wasn't just about the celebration. Megan Nachod had good reason to want to marry as soon as they possibly could.

About 10 years ago, she was in a committed relationship with a woman who died unexpectedly. Not having the protections and rights of legal marriage only added to her pain.

"I vowed never to let that happen again," she said. "I have so much to protect. We have two children. We have a house. We have a life together."

Dennis Gaspari, 61, and Ed Cameron, 56, both government employees, have had a life together and then some.

"We're celebrating our 33d anniversary together today," Gaspari said.

Did he think this day would come?

"I always hoped it would, and I am glad that it has happened," he said. "I'm glad I lived to see it."

Terry McNulty, 46, of Mount Laurel, was tearing up even before the ceremony started. She came with her sister, Virginia Cinquino, 55, of Washington Township. They knew Gaspari from growing up in South Philadelphia. Their children call the two men uncle.

"We learned from them to work on our marriages like they work on theirs," McNulty said. "And you know what? They have the biggest hearts."

Earlier Monday, Manish Mishra-Marzetti, 42, said he had been so busy the last few days that he barely had time to dwell on his own pending nuptials with partner Jeff Mishra-Marzetti, 43. For one thing, as senior minister of the Unitarian Universalist Church in Cherry Hill, he had been planning a several-same-sex-couples wedding for congregants this coming weekend.

But after the "I do's," Manish discreetly dabbed a tissue, and Jeff, holding their 2-year-old son, Jacen, said he felt "elated, in love all over again."

Emotion ran thick in Manish's voice.

"Twenty years of fighting institutions to treat me and my friends fairly," he said, "and it's finally happening."

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