A sign of commitment.

Byline: JOE MOSLEY The Register-Guard

PORTLAND - It isn't as if Dick Levy and Larry Hobnet had anything to prove to each other.

They'd been a couple for 31 years. They'd gone from the early days of referring to themselves simply as "roommates" and enduring the awkward questions of visitors and neighbors, and had been through the often trying times of forging Portland's gay community into the visible and vital political force it has become.

They'd bought a home and built a life for themselves. Their commitment to each other was obvious.

But they were also first in line, two years ago, when Portland and Multnomah County acted jointly to create Oregon's second domestic partnership registry for gay and unmarried heterosexual couples. Ashland began the state's first such registry less than a year earlier.

And Eugene is poised to adopt the third, with a public hearing scheduled for Monday at City Hall and final deliberations by the City Council set for Oct. 28. The registry would be one of several amendments to the city's human rights code.

"We were not shy - I've always been open about my orientation," Levy says. "And there are many couples today, many young couples, that this may serve as a good example. It tells them (gay couples) can have a level of deep commitment and we can stay together for a long time. We're not out on the streets whoring around, or going to orgies.

"We're like any other couples. We may mate for life, or we may not."

A total of 412 couples have followed Levy and Hobnet onto the Portland/Multnomah County registry. Some have sought only a simple statement of government-sanctioned love and commitment. Some see wide acceptance of symbolic registries such as Portland's as the first step toward a legal equivalent to marriage for gay couples, and others hope only for equality in the form of spousal benefits such as insurance coverage.

Many others, such as Levy and Hobnet, feel their open declaration of a lifelong commitment cannot help but improve the public perception of gay and lesbian couples - and ultimately level their footing on social, political and legal grounds.

"It is primarily symbolic," Jennie Bricker says. "But symbols are very important to society."

Bricker and her mate, Robin Gray, also showed up on the first day Multnomah County began issuing its domestic partnership certificates in September 2000. They'd already been a couple for 13 years, had one son and were expecting their second.

"We had whatever legal documents we could, drawn up early on in the relationship," says Bricker, a lawyer who served on the committee that drafted the Multnomah County ordinance. "We had the power of attorney, the wills and all that."

"But it's fun to make a statement together, too," Gray says. "And the more lesbians and gay men are visible, the more you can see we're just people.

"But it's more than just feeling legitimate. It's being considered legitimate. I'm not looking for anyone else's approval. I just don't want to have extra obstacles in my way."

Status symbol

Like Portland's domestic partnership registry, Eugene's would require that participating couples live together in mutually supportive, committed relationships and intend to continue the arrangements indefinitely. No one under age 18 would be eligible for the registry, and couples may not be "related by blood kinship closer than would bar marriage in the state of Oregon" - first cousins, or closer.

Participants also must agree to officially terminate the registration of their partnerships in the cases of couples who eventually decide to go their own ways - as 11 have done during the first two years of Portland's registry.

Eugene's proposed code revisions do add "domestic registry status" to a list of characteristics protected by the city against housing discrimination, and guarantee that no one may be denied service at a restaurant or other "place of public accommodation" based on his or her inclusion in the partnership registry.

But couples would not be required to live in Eugene to sign onto its registry, and no person, business or agency would be required to extend benefits or privileges based on a person's listing in the registry.

So registered domestic partners don't necessarily qualify for spousal benefits offered by each other's employers, though a certificate could be used as proof of a relationship and a logical argument in favor of extending benefits - or visiting rights at hospitals, or family rates at health clubs, or any of the other advantages taken for granted by most married couples.

"It creates evidence of a relationship, and that's something gay and lesbian couples didn't really have," Bricker says.

And she's had a recent experience that bears out her point.

Bricker is in the process of refinancing the home she shares with Gray and the couple's two young sons, Griffin and Kilian.

But Bricker is the working mom while Gray is the stay-at-home mom, and she initially had difficulty explaining to her loan officer the couple's shared responsibility for the home.

"The one thing that seemed to resonate the most was when I said we were a registered domestic couple in Multnomah County," Bricker says. "So there is some tangible effect.

"But I wouldn't discount the importance of it as a symbol. I think that's by far the most important part of it. That's what's been missing for gay and lesbian couples, is society's recognition of your relationship."

A case in point is that of Sandy Johnson and Linda Tody, who were second in line behind Levy and Hobnet to enter their names on the Multnomah County registry.

Johnson and Tody have been together more than 20 years and long ago made commitments to each other under their strong Christian faith.

Their certificate of domestic registry is simply a tool that they feel may eventually help them pry open a regulatory door that has so far remained closed to them.

Johnson works for a health maintenance organization, but even Tody is not recognized as a spouse under her partner's insurance policy. The company has Catholic affiliations, Johnson says, and has a corporate policy of not offering benefits to domestic partners.

But a group of activists is working to take a next step beyond the registry, lobbying Portland officials for a policy that would require all companies who have business dealings with the city to offer their employees the same range of domestic partner benefits that municipal employees now receive.

"Those of us who have gone through and gotten our certificates, we're ahead of the game for when this finally goes through - and I believe it will happen," Johnson says. "So (the certificate) has absolutely no value right now, but some day it will."

First in line

Levy was an appointed member of the Multnomah County Board of Commissioners for a year in the mid-1980s, and is treasurer of the state Democratic Party. He lobbied successfully to be a delegate to the 2000 Democratic National Convention, pointing out that he'd be the only openly gay member of the delegation.

His orientation has been well known throughout his years of public service, so he and Hobnet were naturals to take the lead and face the cameras as media attention was drawn to the opening day of the domestic partnership registry.

Word spread throughout the gay community that city and county political leaders were hoping for a longtime couple to be first through the courthouse doors and serve as a positive example, and Levy volunteered.

"I called the mayor's office and told them we'd been together 31 years, and could get up and be there at 8 a.m.," he says. "We knew people who'd been together 40 years, but they couldn't get up at 8."

The couple had "a little bit of a ceremony" that included a couple friends, and their framed certificate holds a place of honor on a shelf in their dining room along with photographs of the occasion.

And a flood of registrants followed them down the aisle of civil registry.

"Oh yeah, and we expected that, too," says Kathy Tuneberg, records manager for Multnomah County. "Certainly in the first month there was a lot of activity - in the first month there were 128. Then in the couple following months, there were 25 or 30."

Since then, it's leveled off at 10 to 15 per month.

Levy and Hobnet are guessing that the novelty of a registry has worn off somewhat, or an initial buildup of couples eager to participate went through the system and things have just naturally evened out.

But Bricker and Gray say they expected even more initial interest, and are a little disappointed in what they see as a lack of meaningful momentum.

"Even when we went, there was no one else there," Gray says. "I thought it would just be throngs, all day."

And she's puzzled over the relative trickle of ongoing registrants. "That just seems like nothing to me," she says.

But Bricker suggests that many if not most people want something tangible to show for their money, and the registry has yet to produce any discernible benefits for those who have registered.

"Most people are more pragmatic - they say, 'why am I going to do that, if I'm not going to get anything out of it?' " she says.

"But after the first court case where it's used as evidence (of a relationship), I'm sure there will be more."

Muted criticism

Bureaucratically, participation in the Multnomah County registry was patterned as closely as possible after marriage license applications. Each cost a total of $60 - $25 goes to the county's general fund, $25 to a program to combat domestic violence and $10 to a conciliation program.

The county has reviewed the registry once since it was enacted, and since there'd been only one complaint the system was left untouched.

"It wasn't even a complaint, really," Tuneberg says. "It was just one couple who were expecting something more ceremonious. But it's a pretty easy process."

Charges for joining Eugene's registry - assuming city councilors support it, as they indicated unanimously last month - have not been set, but city staff has been instructed to structure a fee to cover all clerical time and other costs to the city.

And there's been no indication how many couples may come forward to be included on the registry, other than guesses that it will be somewhere between the 40-plus listed in Ashland and the 400-plus in Portland.

Critics of the Eugene proposal - primarily fundamentalist Christians - have argued during a yearlong public review and input process that a domestic partnership registry would devalue marriage and send improper messages to the community.

The Portland ordinance also drew detractors when its fate was being decided, but since the first day it took effect the registry has become a nonissue.

"Nothing public - no phone calls, no demonstrations or anything," Tuneberg says.

"I would say if the county and city expected any protest, they were pretty pleasantly surprised," Levy says.

So among the first handful of Portland's registered domestic partners, at least, there seem to be few if any regrets. But even after two years, expectations remain high.

"I don't see a down side," Bricker says. "I think it's an important thing to do, just for the symbol.

"It's important to stay involved in the political process. It's sort of like voting - you either think your actions make a difference, or you don't. And I do."

EUGENE DOMESTIC PARTNERSHIP REGISTRY

Purpose: Patterned after similar ordinances in Portland/Multnomah County and Ashland, Eugene's registry would provide nonbinding city recognition of gay couples' committed domestic partnerships.

Public hearing: Monday, 7:30 p.m., Council Chamber, City Hall, 777 Pearl St. Public testimony will be heard on the domestic registry issue and other proposed amendments to the city's human rights code.

Decision: Oct. 28, 7:30 p.m., Council Chamber, City Hall. Council action on proposed amendments to human rights code.

CAPTION(S):

Larry Hobnet (left) and Dick Levy of Portland have been partners for more than 30 years and were the first couple to sign up for the domestic partner registry in that city. Levy volunteered when city and county political leaders hoped a longtime couple would be first, serving as a positive example. "It is primarily symbolic. But symbols are very important to society." - JENNIE BRICKER, Portland resident THOMAS BOYD / The Register-Guard Robin Gray snuggles with her son Kilian, 5, as her domestic partner Jennie Bricker (left) finishes their meal at Lloyd Center Mall in Portland. "It's being considered legitimate. I'm not looking for anyone else's approval. I just don't want to have extra obstacles in my way." - ROBIN GRAY, Portland resident