On June 26, 2015, exhilarated crowds gathered from outside the U.S. Supreme Court in Washington, D.C., to Downtown Cincinnati. Rainbow flags flew as word spread, network news broke into programming and phones lit up: same-sex marriage was now legal nationwide. In a 5-4 decision, the court ruled in Obergefell v. Hodges that the Constitution guarantees same-sex couples the right to marry.
The ruling had special meaning in Cincinnati because the case originated here. Plaintiff Jim Obergefell sued to have his Maryland marriage to his late husband, John Arthur, recognized in their home state of Ohio. After Arthur’s ALS diagnosis, the couple flew to Maryland to marry on the tarmac of an airport, inside a medically equipped plane, in 2013. When Arthur passed away months later, Obergefell sued to have their marriage listed on the death certificate — a fight that would reshape the legal definition of marriage.
The Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals in Cincinnati initially upheld the state’s ban (under then-Attorney General and now-Gov. Mike DeWine), which set the stage for the appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court.
The dissenting minority — Justices Samuel Alito, John Roberts, Antonin Scalia and Clarence Thomas — argued that the court had overstepped its constitutional authority by legalizing same-sex marriage nationwide. They believed the decision represented judicial overreach, asserting that the Constitution does not explicitly grant a right to same-sex marriage and that such a major policy change should come from voters or legislatures, not the courts.
But they were overpowered by the majority — Justices Stephen Breyer, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Elena Kagan, Anthony Kennedy and Sonia Sotomayor. Justice Kennedy, writing for the majority, declared: “No union is more profound than marriage. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right.”
LGBTQIA+ Americans across the country, like College Hill couple Bruce Preston and Doug Ignatius, felt euphoric after hearing the Supreme Court decision. The two later married and chose to keep their last names to honor who they’d been for their 20-plus years together.
“It was the Friday to kick off Pride weekend in Cincinnati, and people were literally getting married on Fountain Square,” Preston recalled to CityBeat, noting that he found out about the court’s decision at work. “I ended up crying at a company meeting. There were celebrations everywhere. It led into that Pride weekend. Jim Obergefell and John Arthur were dear friends of ours. We saw Jim at Pride getting interviewed by national media. We went up and gave him a big kiss and said, ‘We don’t want to bother you, but congratulations.’”
Wedding bells from Washington, D.C. to Washington Park in Cincinnati
“What I remember most [about June 26] is walking the dogs and coming up with a plan for getting married,” Ignatius said. “It was celebratory, but it was also like, ‘Oh, we’re going to do this.’”
It’s hard to quantify how many LGBTQIA+ couples tied the knot in the aftermath. Exact numbers were not comprehensively tracked in real-time, but in the days after the ruling, it’s fair to say media reports covered thousands of licenses being issued all over the country.
The Williams Institute (a think tank at UCLA Law) estimated that by mid-2016, more than 100,000 same-sex marriages had taken place in the U.S. (including marriages in states where it was already legal).
Preston said the two received their marriage license at the Hamilton County Courthouse and tied the knot in Washington Park less than three months after the Obergefell ruling: Sept. 1, 2015.
“I insisted on Sept. 1,” Preston said in a joking tone. “It was sort of our ‘gotcha’ date, which I had forgotten a few times. I didn’t need another day to remember.”
Preston was so adamant that the calendar was no concern: They exchanged vows on a Tuesday.
“A friend of ours is a judge, Jody Luebbers, and years ago she asked, ‘Would you guys ever consider getting married?’” Ignatius recalled. “And I said, ‘Well, yeah, when it’s legal everywhere.’ And she said, ‘Well, you know, judges can marry people.’ So when it became legal, we called her up, and she said, ‘Absolutely.’ And she came from the courthouse, and a few of our friends who are lawyers were there and said, ‘Where are you going?’ She goes, ‘I’m going to go marry Doug and Bruce.’ They asked, ‘Can we come?’ She goes: ‘It’s a park; come on.’”
The pair called it a guerrilla wedding.
“We had no legal permits,” Preston said, laughing. “We just showed up and did it.”
A decade on: legal recognition, political uncertainty
We often hear about the jubilation that followed the landmark Obergefell ruling, but for LGBTQIA+ folks, the moments leading up to the decision were often stressful and scary — feelings that are bubbling up again today.
“We had heard the oral arguments,” Preston said. “It was pretty sobering to hear people debating whether or not you — as an American citizen — are entitled to participate in things that matter to your life. We didn’t know how they would rule. We didn’t know how they would come down. They waited ‘til the last decision to announce it, and when it came down, it was really life changing.”
“I think we were all hoping for the best and maybe expecting the best, but you never know. You see how things can turn very quickly,” Ignatius said, referencing the last decade’s conservative shift of the U.S. Supreme Court. “If it would have been in a different court, it could have been shot down, right? It could still be shot down.”
LGBTQIA+ folks and advocates will say today’s legal landscape feels chillier than the summer of 2015. Part of that is because, in 2022, the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, eliminating the federal protection of a patient’s right to decide to terminate a pregnancy, sparking fear among civil rights advocates that other precedents — not just abortion — could be reconsidered. Justice Thomas, in a concurring opinion, openly suggested that the court should “revisit” its past rulings on contraception, sodomy and — yes — same-sex marriage.
“If you could take a precedent like Roe v. Wade and overturn it 50 years later, you can certainly take a precedent like Obergefell v. Hodges and overturn it 10 years later,” Preston said.
That’s not just the sentiment of the general population. Various legal scholars warn that Obergefell’s protections could be vulnerable. Others point to congressional passage of the Respect for Marriage Act — which requires states to recognize same-sex marriages from other states — as a layer of defense, but not a constitutional guarantee.
What would overturning Obergefell look like?
The U.S. Supreme Court could revisit Obergefell if the right kind of case makes its way up through the courts. It wouldn’t necessarily start with someone saying “let’s overturn marriage equality,” but it could begin with a narrower challenge, like a dispute over parental rights or benefits for same-sex couples. If a lower court were to rule in a way that limits those rights and the case is appealed, the justices could choose to take it up. That would give them a chance to either reaffirm or start to limit Obergefell.
The key issue here is the 14th Amendment (which was pivotal in Obergefell, as well). The original ruling hinged on due process and equal protection clauses, which critics argue have been stretched too far to include marriage rights. If the court continues to adopt a narrower reading of constitutional rights – as it did with abortion – it could claim that same-sex marriage isn’t a deeply rooted right in American history and therefore not protected.
So while marriage equality is still the law of the land, its future could very much depend on who’s sitting on the bench — and what kinds of cases they choose to hear.
“It will take some time to work its way through the courts, but it could happen,” Ignatius said. “And I don’t doubt the people behind Project 2025 are working towards something like that […] simply because they don’t accept us.”
Defining parental rights in post-Obergefell Ohio
While the constitutional entirety of the Obergefell case is weighed, the existing law’s details are still being litigated, as well. In April, the Ohio Supreme Court heard arguments in a case that could redefine the parental rights of same-sex partners who were in relationships before Obergefell, but never legally married.
The Ohio Supreme Court case involves Cincinnatian Carmen Edmonds and Priya Shahani who were partners for 12 years and raised three children together. Edmonds said they would’ve been married had they had the option. So when they separated in 2015, just before the Obergefell ruling, Edmonds felt she should have parental rights.
“I have been with my kids since they were born,” Edmonds told CityBeat. “I’ve been nurturing. I’ve been a mother in every sense. And the idea that someone does not recognize that is scary.”
Shahani’s legal team argues there was no marriage, no adoption and no formal legal recognition.
Ohio Capital Journal reports that Paul Kerridge, Shahani’s attorney, has called the “would-have-been-married” standard “unworkably speculative.” Shahani has asked for privacy for herself and her family at this time.
Edmonds’ attorney, Jonathan Hilton, said this would be different if the pair had been a heterosexual couple and gay marriage had been legal.
“Just because a child was born in Ohio at a time when we didn’t recognize same-sex marriage, that shouldn’t stop them from having two moms legally recognized today,” Hilton told CityBeat.
A decision could come from the Ohio Supreme Court in the coming months. If the losing party at the Ohio Supreme Court level argues that its federal constitutional rights – like those under the 14th Amendment (due process or equal protection) – have been violated, they can petition the U.S. Supreme Court for review. But the high court must decide if the issue has federal relevance.
Jim Obergefell’s ongoing legacy
Jim Obergefell’s name became synonymous with marriage equality. A decade after his U.S. Supreme Court victory, he’s still appearing in Cincinnati – and still advocating.
In 2016, Obergefell co-authored the book Love Wins: The Lovers and Lawyers Who Fought the Landmark Case for Marriage Equality with Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist Debbie Cenziper. The book is part memoir, part legal thriller.
In 2022, Obergefell ran for the Ohio House of Representatives for Ohio’s 89th legislative district covering Erie, Huron and Ottawa counties. In the August 2022 Democratic primaries, Obergefell ran unopposed and won. But he was defeated by Republican incumbent D. J. Swearingen, who won re-election.
And today, Obergefell is involved in civil rights advocacy and continues to speak about the importance of LGBTQIA+ rights and the ongoing fight for equality. In May, he participated in the American Sign Museum’s “Signs & Spouses” exhibit, which celebrates LGBTQIA+ history in Cincinnati. He’s officiating a vow renewal ceremony — continuing to help others affirm their love, legally and publicly.
In March, at a speaking engagement at Northern Kentucky University, Obergefell reflected on the upcoming anniversary.
“This […] was such a beautiful day,” Obergefell said in a Spectrum News report. “It gave hope to millions of people, made millions of people feel more part of ‘We the people.’”
But he acknowledged the fight is far from over.
“We have to work together to ensure every marginalized community can enjoy those rights that we’re supposed to enjoy,” Obergefell said.
What’s next and what’s really on the line?
LGBTQIA+ couples, families and advocates are looking beyond anniversaries and museum exhibits. They’re watching the courts and the candidates for next year’s midterm elections.
For them, reflecting on 10 years of marriage equality is not just about reflecting on the victory — it’s about reflecting on the fight. Some members of the LGBTQIA+ community feel the gloves will have to come off again.
“I think the lesson [of the Obergefell decision] is don’t give up,” Preston said, acknowledging the importance of fighting for future generations. “The lesson is keep fighting for your rights and your place and your equality. Demand it, and don’t give up for anything less.”
State-level cases like the one in Ohio exemplify how much marriage equality is still being debated. While federal protections remain in place, shifts in judicial philosophy, local legislation and national leadership could all shape the near future.
“We’ll coalesce quickly if they start poking the bear,” Ignatius said. “It’s all embedded in hate. And it’s so sad that their life view is so myopic.”
For Preston, the question is very simple, but he actually didn’t understand the why until long after the wedding bells chimed.
“My mother said to us, ‘Marriage will change everything for you,’” Preston recalled. “And I said, ‘Mom, we’ve been together for 21 years. What’s going to change? Really?’ She said, ‘I can’t explain it, but everything will change.’”
Preston paused, taking a breath.
“She was right,” Preston said, his voice breaking slightly. “She was right. Everything changed. At work, I don’t have to talk about my boyfriend or partner. I can say, ‘Husband.’ It changed overnight, so many things. To think that can all be taken away from you … it’s scary.”
This story is featured in CityBeat’s May 28 print edition.
This article appears in May 28 – Jun 10, 2025.