Terry Mutchler - Under This Beautiful Dome: A Senator, A Journalist, and the Politics of Gay Love in America

UNDER THIS BEAUTIFUL DOME

UNDER THIS BEAUTIFUL DOME

Copyright 2014 Terry Mutchler

SEAL PRESS

A Member of the Perseus Books Group

1700 Fourth Street

Berkeley, California 94710

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Mutchler, Terry.

Under this beautiful dome : a senator, a journalist, and the politics of gay love in America / Terry Mutchler.

pages cm

ISBN 978-1-58005-508-6 (hardback)

1. Mutchler, Terry. 2. Severns, Penny, 1952-1998. 3. LesbiansUnited StatesBiography. 4. Gay journalistsUnited StatesBiography. 5. Gay politiciansUnited StatesBiography. 6. HomosexualityPolitical aspectsUnited States. I. Title.

HQ75.4.M87A3 2014

306.7663092dc23

[B]

2014021397

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Cover and interior design by Domini Dragoone

Distributed by Publishers Group West

M

CONTENTS

O n a cold, sunny February morning in 1998, with the unusual sight of three rainbows arcing the Midwestern sky, the family and friends of Senator Penny Severns gathered in the opulent chamber of the Illinois Senate to memorialize Penny, their fallen colleague, and to pay tribute to the rich tapestry of her lifes work.

Inside Lincolns Statehouse, Senate President James Pate Philip banged the oversized wooden gavel three times, calling to order the upper chamber of the Ninetieth General Assembly. Senator Severnss family, followed by close friends, was escorted to the front of the chamber as senators stood in respect. The chamber, laden with a thousand ethical reckonings, was orderly and still.

The Secretary of the Senate, a personal friend of Pennys, stood at the dais, a level below the presidents chair, and looked over her half-glasses at the audience. Then-Senator Barack Obama (a seatmate to Senator Severns whod mentored him when he was a freshman lawmaker), then-Representative Jan Schakowsky (now congresswoman), and others from the House and Senate looked on, grieved and heavy. Senator Severnss seat was draped in a black cloth, stark against the white calla lilies centered on her antique rolltop desk.

The clerk cleared her throat and, fighting tears, read Resolution 168, outlining the accolades of the rising young star in the Democratic Party whose life was cut short by metastatic breast cancer one month to the day after her forty-sixth birthday.

Every detail of her life was preceded by the Senate tradition and political lingo of a resolutionthe word whereas. Those listening were then reminded of the life Senator Severns lived:

Whereas, at the age of twenty, while still a student, Penny Severns was elected as a delegate to the Democratic National Convention, then the youngest delegate in the Conventions history. Whereas, she was appointed to a prominent post within the United States Department of State, and as a Special Assistant, traveled to Thailand, Nepal, and India evaluating and auditing countries and addressing poverty for the Agency for International Development (USAID). Whereas, while she worked for the State Department, she was an Agency representative at the Camp David Peace Accords and was in attendance when the historic document was signed. On a trip to Israel with other high-ranking lawmakers, she met Israeli leaders Shimon Perez and Yitzhak Rabin...

The resolution detailed Pennys political accomplishments, including winning a Decatur City Council seat with the largest number of votes in city history; her victory in the Senate, unseating a popular ten-year Senate Leadership Republican incumbent; her service as the first woman budget negotiator for the Senate Democrats; and her history-making bid as part of the first all-female major-party gubernatorial ticket in American history, when she won the nomination for lieutenant governor of Illinois and the late Dawn Clark Netsch won the gubernatorial nomination.

Her colleagues listened as her academic credentials were recited: a degree in political science and international relations at Southern Illinois University; a fellowship at Harvard Universitys Kennedy School of Government; a Toll Fellowship, for which she was chosen from among the nations elite lawmakers to study public policy in an intellectual boot camp in Lexington, Kentucky; and an appointment to the German Marshall Fund to study job creation in Denmark and Germany.

Some colleagues cried as the resolution, beautifully written and tenderly read, regaled Senator Severnss love of family, music, history, art, nature, and friends. They each had their own memories of their beloved colleague and friend.

Whereas, then came the lie.

The lie that contradicted the rumors, rightly whispered and wrongly denied. The lie had been culled from Pennys obituary, which I had written just days before in my own hand. The obituary contained a three-word lie; perhaps the most painful words I have ever written. I wrote of Penny Severns, my partner and mate: She was single.

Whereas, Senator Penny Severns is survived by her father, Donald Severns Sr., and his wife, Audine Moery; her twin sister, Patty Severns Love, and her husband, Douglas, and their three children, Kristin, Weston, and Graham; her brother Rod Severns and his wife, Jane; her brother Don Severns Jr. and his three children, Jennifer, Emily, and Matt Severns; her nephew, Nick Wilber; and her great nephew, Kyle Wilber. Senator Severns was preceded in death by her mother, Helen Severns, and her sister Marsha Severns Hamilton.

There was no mention of the life that Penny and I had created and lived together. No mention of the marriage proposal she made to me three months into our relationship. No mention that we had forged our marriage with the symbols of ring and bracelet. No mention of our love. No mention of the conversations we had about whether to have children. No mention of the unbelievable extent to which we went to hide our relationship. No mention of our shared finances. No mention of how we dreamed of retiring together. No mention of our life as we struggled with the news of her returning cancer. And no mention of how tenderly we took care of each other or how I tended her as she was dying. There was no mention of me at all, in fact.

The best years of our lives were written in invisible ink.

In the aftermath of Pennys death, I struggled in every way to make that life visible, to preserve that life, to be recognized in a life that we strove to keep hidden and yet in retrospect was very much an open secret at the most basic levels. Our families addressed holiday cards and birthday invitations to both of us; they insisted we sleep in the same bedroom while staying in their homes, even when there was only a twin bed to share. Penny and I were inseparable at every holiday and family function and bought joint presents for our nieces and nephews. Our relationship seemed common yet was underground knowledge on the political circuit. Political friends had whispered about our relationship and political enemies threatened to use it for political gain. Years after Pennys death, I learned that our relationship became a bit of a parlor game among reporters: over brandy and cigars theyd ask, Were Penny and Terry lovers?