|
(Continued from page 32)
exchanged wedding vows over the past two weeks in jubilant celebrations -- but the rush on same-sex marriage licenses has come to an end.
• The U.S. Supreme Court put a halt to them Monday by granting the state of Utah a stay on a federal judge's ruling that two other courts previously denied. The decision drew cheers from Gov. Gary Herbert and other state officials, who immediately instructed county clerks to stop marrying gay and lesbian couples. In Utah's largest county, four couples were turned away.
• The justices did not rule on the merits of the case or on same-sex marriage bans in general, leaving both sides confident they'll ultimately win. The decision stays in effect while the Denver-based 10th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals considers the long-term question of whether gay couples have a right to wed in Utah.
• Meanwhile, hundreds of newly married couples were thrown into legal and emotional limbo by the decision. Legal scholars say their marriage licenses will be honored by the federal government, but Utah officials are trying to determine whether the marriages that have already taken place are still valid.
• The latest twist in the legal battle clouds what was seen as a cause for celebration.
• ___
In one frozen town, football, lottery and cigarettes are worth freezing for
• CORAOPOLIS, Pa. (AP) -- Certain essentials must be taken care of, no matter what. As a record freeze hit this hard-luck town outside Pittsburgh early Tuesday, basic needs came down to football, lottery tickets and cigarettes. Especially cigarettes.
• Dangerously frigid air arrived in Coraopolis, Pa., from the Midwest, borne by a biting wind that pulled smoke horizontally from the factory chimneys along the Ohio River. With Tuesday's school already cancelled and local TV news issuing dire warnings, the mile-long main drag fell silent except for a few cars and the rumble of freight trains running two blocks over.
• None of the town's 5,664 residents are outside -- until you reach the Uni-Mart on the corner of Main and Fifth.
• Quentin Milliner walks in and asks for a pack of Marlboros. He's not cold: "I spent two years in Alaska," he says. "This isn't cold."
• When he walks out, the bank clock across the street reads 9:13 p.m. and -3 degrees. On the ten-minute walk home, Milliner is wearing jeans but no thermals, two (Continued on page 34)
|
|
