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Maine
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Woods
work
Few
are happy with the state of the forest
or Question 2
Files
Clearcuts like this one will be allowed only with scientific justification
if Question 2 passes.
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By most accounts, Gerald Nelson Jr.
represents what the public dislikes about logging in Maine today.
A logging contractor from Freedom, he blows through woodlots
like a hurricane.
"Nelson has built a reputation of destructive logging practices,
and of not paying stumpage. He typically and repeatedly preys
on out-of-state, absentee landowners," forester Stephen
Elliot wrote to the Maine Forest Service in June 1993, in a letter
that is now part of Nelson's court record. "Nelson's reputation
is well known in the logging community. No respectable person
would be associated with him It is beyond my comprehension that
Nelson is still in business with all of the laws that govern
stumpage sales."
Nothing seems to stop Nelson, even after two dozen victims have
complained about the loss of hundreds of acres of woods. The
Attorney General's office is seeking civil sanctions, although
Nelson beat an attempt to prosecute him criminally. Nor would
Nelson be much deterred by passage of any of the three forestry
referendums that have come before voters since 1996.
"We need better laws, more enforcement, more education,"
said Linda Conti, the assistant attorney general handling the
case. "I'm very frustrated."
Nelson does not represent the forest industry. But his continued
depradations highlight a problem that stymies landowners and
policy makers alike. The problem is secrecy and landowner ignorance.
The Maine Forest Service can track just about every cord of wood
cut in the forest today, but its enormous data collection engine
produces only a broad picture for the public. We know clearcutting
is down overall, but we have no idea who's doing it or where.
As a result, we end up with blunt policy prescriptions like "An
Act Regarding Forest Practices," the latest referendum,
which goes to a statewide vote Nov. 7. The act does not address
some of the worst abuses, such as rogue loggers, and it penalizes
some benign practices, including elements of the "green"
certified forestry practiced by Seven Islands Land Co., and may
cause unintended consequences on small woodlots.
More disclosure, of course, would help, but the forest industry
has consistently thwarted legislative attempts to open up records.
Trying to find out what goes on in
the Maine woods today is no easy task. We hear so much about
clearcutting - the practice of shearing forests as if they are
cornfields - that the view from a plane is surprising. While
attending the Acadian Institute, a foundation-supported environmental
journalism program heavy on field trips, we flew in float planes
north from Millinocket, swinging west of Baxter State Park, and
back east to Portage. From the air, the woods looked velvety
and endless, jeweled with shiny ponds and lakes. Arrow-straight
dirt highways and a checkerboard pattern of openings gave the
landscape a farmed look, but shagginess was the overall impression.
Even the infamous Ragmuff cut, once the biggest pockmark in the
woods and now filled in with new growth, failed to shock. "It's
not as bad I thought," a Boston Globe reporter remarked
afterward.
The Maine Forest Service says clearcutting has declined by two-thirds
since 1994, and now represents just 3 percent of all the wood
cut each year. Last year, 18,000 acres were clearcut, a total
area not much bigger than Isle au Haut. "The people in Portland
have this image of northern Maine that there are hardly any trees
left, that it's all clearcut and the trees don't grow back. None
of it's true. But during a clearcut referendum, that's what they
continue to hear," said Abby Holman, campaign manager for
the Forest Heritage Coalition, which opposes the referendum.

Files
Jonathan Carter is
back in the referendum business with Question 2
A bigger concern is the woods are being cut down faster than
they are growing back, says Jonathan Carter, the architect of
this year's referendum. Carter says large landowners try to hide
forest destruction by classifying near-clearcuts under innocuous-sounding
names like "shelterwood" cuts and "partial"
cuts.
"These cuts, based on no known scientific guidelines, are
devastating the future productivity and regenerative ability
of the forest ... However you look at it, they're overcutting,"
said Carter, a man who seems to relish his role as villain of
the forest industry.
The forest service says large landowners began overcutting in
the mid-1980s largely to salvage trees dying as a result
of a spruce budworm epidemic. The overcutting continues. The
forest service estimates that cutting exceeds growth by 43 percent
and projects the imbalance to continue for the foreseeable future.
This may sound ominous, although Robert Seymour, a forestry professor
at the University of Maine, says "a little tweaking would
bring it into balance." He said the problem is not overcutting,
but slow growth, which could be juiced by better timed harvests
or more intensive management, which usually means more herbicide
applications and the replacement of naturally diverse stands
with plantations of the same kind of tree. Both those practices
are viewed with alarm by environmentalists.
The forest service also says the woods are getting younger, a
trend noticeable in the size of harvestable trees. When artist
Winslow Homer went to the Maine woods more than 100 years ago,
he depicted two-man ax teams>
Transfer interrupted!
thick. Nowadays, mechanical harvesters grab flag pole-sized trees
and whip them to the ground like stalks of grass.
It's even more difficult to figure
out what's going on in southern Maine, away from the paper company
holdings. Conventional wisdom holds that these smaller woodlots
are responsibly managed by farmers, heirs of family homesteads,
back-to-the-landers and yuppie lawyers. This is the view pushed
by the 11,000-member Small Woodland Owners Association of Maine,
an organization that promotes stewardship and opposes the referendum.
Forest service data supports the overall view that growth is
more than matching harvest. But the big picture masks tremendous
variation, experts say. Some landowners never log, and others
log intensively. Small woodlots are also the turf of rogue loggers
like Nelson and forest liquidators, who buy land, strip all available
timber, and resell for development.
"On small woodlots, you'll get everything from the finest
management to the most abysmal," Seymour said. He expresses
concern at surveys that show only 30 percent of small woodlot
owners hire foresters to supervise logging. "That shows
they get taken advantage of by logging contractors. It's a 50-year
legacy," he said.
Abusive logging may even increase on small woodlots as paper
mills compensate for reduced supply from large landowners like
J.D. Irving, which is shifting away from pulp markets and toward
longer-horizon timber markets. "You just can't generalize,"
said Seymour.
All this guesswork and speculation is an inevitable byproduct
of the forest service's refusal to release "wood processor
reports"- data collected by the mills on the volume of wood
bought from individual landowners. The forest service releases
generalized reports based on the data, but it's what's not in
them that intrigues many observers.
"What they do not release is who's doing what, where and
why," said Carter. "The public does not have access
to this because the industry does not want the public to know
who's the big culprit." He said disclosure would show who's
clearcutting, who's converting natural stands to mono-culture
plantations, who's using the most herbicides, who's not respecting
species diversity.
"We'd know exactly what companies are doing. We could question
it," said Carter.

Files
Reports on the amount
of wood cut during harvesting operations across Maine are kept
by the Maine Forest Service but not released to the public. Critics
say full disclosure of harvesting practices will cut down abuses.
This year's referendum is an attempt
to bring accountability to forest management.
It calls for a permit for all clearcuts larger than five acres.
The permit system is aimed at making sure clearcuts are justified
on silvicultural grounds, says Carter, who suspects economy is
the prime reason for most of them. In addition, the referendum
would establish a complicated system for determining sustainable
harvest levels on all 11.2 million acres (two-thirds of forest
acreage in Maine) that currently receive a tax break under the
Tree Growth Tax Program. It requires landowners to look back
10 years to determine the harvest levels for eight different
species. Not only would this require additional recordkeeping
and an enforcement bureaucracy, but it is a nonsensical way to
determine sustainability, says John Cashwell, woodlands director
of Seven Islands, which manages 950,000 acres for the Pingree
heirs.
Giving Carter the benefit of the doubt on how the formula would
work, Cashwell says it would still reduce Seven Islands' harvest
by a third. Seven Islands, recognized as a leader in sustainable
management practices, is one of only two large landowners in
Maine to submit to an intensive third-party audit certifying
their harvests are ecologically sustainable.
"We try to do forestry as good as anyone in the nation and
it would hurt us," Cashwell. "It (referendum) takes
away any incentive to do forestry. I don't think it's an accident.
It's a socially-driven agenda to cause instability on an annual
basis in the forest industry. That's where he's at."
The Achilles heel of the referendum, and the focus of the campaign
to defeat it, is vague wording about whether landowners would
be allowed to "bank" growth each year and cut up to
10 years at a time, or whether they would have to cut annually
only what has grown in the past year. The crucial sentence reads:
"This means that the yearly allowable cut levels may not
be greater than the average annual growth during the past ten
years."
Carter concedes the language could have been clearer, "but
I will not ever agree that you can't bank." Ultimately,
interpretation will be left to a nine-member sustainability council
appointed by the governor. "It's inconceivable that any
nine people appointed by the governor would come to any other
conclusion. There is no disagreement about banking. We all think
it should be allowed."
But a raft of experts who have scrutinized
the referendum wording have concluded just the opposite. They
say landowners could cut no more than a single year's growth
at a time. These experts include Tom Doak, head of the Maine
Forest Service; Vincent McKusick, former chief justice of the
Maine Supreme Court; and Seymour and two colleagues at the UMaine
forestry school.
"It is difficult to see how the statute could state more
clearly that no banking is allowed," according to McKusick's
opinion, which was sought by the referendum opponents. "If
drafters of the referendum in fact had intended to permit banking
yearly allowable cut levels, they could very easily have so provided,
but they elected not to do so."
Opponents have geared almost their entire campaign around the
assumption that banking is prohibited. Small woodlot owners have
been the most vocal. "If this referendum passes, frankly,
I'm out of business," Jim Robbins, a fourth-generation sawmill
owner in Searsmont, told the Boston Globe.
"If (the referendum) were to pass the way it is written
now, I would immediately pull out of Tree Growth," Roger
Knight, owner of Smiling Hill Farm in North Scarborough, told
Casco Bay Weekly.
An idea that grew out of past failed referendum campaigns was
to force improvements through increased disclosure. This non-bureaucratic
approach to accountability holds no guarantee of success, but
it's proved effective in cleaning up toxic chemical emissions
into the air and water, said Will Everitt, Maine field director
for Toxics Action Center. Massachusetts and New Jersey, leaders
in toxics disclosure, have seen 50 percent reductions in toxic
chemical emissions since laws went into effect a decade ago,
he said.
"It's hard to measure, but (disclosure) definitely has some
effect. They never want to be number 1," said Everitt.
Companies that emit toxins raised some of the same objections
to disclosure that the forest industry is raising. "They
said it would give information to their competitors, they said
the information would be useless to the public and that if they
saw it the public would be unnecessarily scared," said Everitt.
" Disclosure hasn't hurt them. Industry is alive and well."

Files
Reports on the amount
of wood cut during harvesting operations across Maine
are kept by the Maine Forest Service but not released to the
public.
Critics say full disclosure of harvesting practices will cut
down abuses.
The current situation in the woods
is akin to knowing a river is polluted, but being denied access
to the volume of discharge coming from factories along the river,
said Roland Sampson, a Democratic state representative from Jay,
who has twice sponsored disclosure bills in the Legislature.
Sampson said disclosure won't tell competitors anything they
don't already know, that the public is the only one currently
in the dark. "Let's face it, large landowners in particular,
they know what their competitors are doing. They can get aerial
photographs. All they have to do is look."
Disclosure of wood processor reports has been opposed by the
industry and the Maine Forest Service on grounds that it would
expose individual business strategies to competitors. The information
is not that important anyway, says Tom Doak of the forest service.
"We're talking 200,000 landowners in the state. We don't
need to be looking at individual landowners every year. It's
more important to focus on the forest as a whole," said
Doak.
"What we try to do is prohibit the worst and try to encourage
them to do the right things." He said the overall picture
will improve with the start of annual field surveys from random
spots in the woods.
The secrecy-is-necessary argument
is also being debunked by J.D. Irving, the giant Canadian conglomerate
that is the largest landowner in Maine with 1.5 million acres.
Irving recently published a 47-page summary of its management
practices on a third of its holdings in Maine. Publication of
the report was part of having its practices certified as environmentally
sustainable by the Forest Stewardship Council, the most rigorous
and public of two certification programs. The report includes
data on dollars-per-acre investments, herbicide applications
and harvest volumes.
Irving says the risk of disclosing sensitive information to competitors
was outweighed by the public stamp of approval.
"Ultimately, we think third-party audits are going to be
a pre-requisite for doing business. We want to be ahead of the
curve rather than behind it People want to know that we are managing
for more than just timber," said Keith.
Irving's disclosure debunks the secrecy argument as "a smokescreen,"
said Cathy Johnson of the Natural Resources Council of Maine,
which supports the referendum but also believes it should be
amended by the Legislature to specifically exempt owners of less
than 1,000 acres.
"If Irving can do it, why can't the others? All these companies
know what the other is doing The only one who doesn't know is
the public.
"You could shut us all up if you'd get FSC certified,"
said Johnson.
Excepting Irving and Seven Islands,
the industry prefers a less rigorous certification program called
the Sustainable Forestry Initiative. Unlike FSC, which was developed
with input from environmentalists, SFI is an industry creation
that does not require disclosure of the results. Presumably,
favorable reviews will be released but not unfavorable ones.
International Paper, Plum Creek, Hancock Timber Resources, Fraser
Paper and Mead are undergoing or have completed SFI audits.
Seymour said the competing certification programs have at least
begun to separate a "circle-the-wagons" industry into
"discrete companies following separate strategic paths."
You can tell the best from the rest by inference, he said.
"Hey IP, why haven't you (undergone FSC certification)?
Or Plum Creek? I think their silence speaks volumes They're not
ready to be measured," Seymour said.
Rob Bryan, a forest ecologist for Maine Audubon, which opposes
the referendum, said disclosure of wood processor reports wouldn't
tell anything about sustainable harvest levels. He puts great
stock in certification and said SFI is moving to toughen its
standards, recently announcing that sustainability will be integral
to audits, not just part of the name. Eventually, the certification
programs will provide the accountability, Bryan said. "I
think it's going to bear fruit In five years SFI will look a
lot different But it's a slow process and big industries are
slow to change. It doesn't take much time to collect signatures
for a referendum."
Maine's Bureau of Public Lands is prodding the certification
process by having its half-million acres audited by both programs.
It will publish the results of both, too.
Certification does not address accountability on smaller woodlots,
said Lloyd Irland, a forest economist and one of three auditors
who worked on Irving's certification. A complete filed survey
might pre-empt future referendums and would at least provide
data for targeted prescriptions, he said.
"I've been saying for 20 years we should do a periodic,
careful survey," said Irland. "In all three northern
New England states in the last several years we've had a lot
of controversy we really need to know what's happening on the
ground. Is it degrading the forest's productivity? How many loggers
are choosing to clearcut? High-grade? How many are improving
stands? What's the trend? I've been an advocate of periodic benchmarks
so we can tell trends."
Until a bigger spotlight is shone
on the Maine woods, reforms may always miss the mark. For only
with full disclosure of what's happening on the ground will policies
match up with forest problems.
But the question at hand is Question 2. Its supporters say it
reasserts a public role in forest policy and establishes an accountability
mechanism that could be improved upon in the future. Brownie
Carson, executive director of the Natural Resources Council of
Maine, says, "This forestry referendum addresses the fundamental
problem in Maine's woods: balancing logging with tree growth.
We recognize that the language of this referendum is not perfect.
However, no law that is passed is ever perfect. Even the U.S.
Constitution has been amended 26 times."
The referendum also enforces only what the forest industry claims
to practice - sustainable harvests, in which trees are clearcut
only for silvicultural reasons, its supporters say.
But other critics of the status quo say Question 2 is a setback
for forestry reform. "They're dealing with a complicated
problem with a simple solution," said Irland. "The
alleged crisis supporting this (referendum) isn't real. The numbers
have been selectively edited." The cure is more damaging
than the problem, he said. "Why is it necessary to reduce
the harvest by 30 percent in order to correct a 14 percent shortfall?"
asks Irland rhetorically.

Files
Back to top
Questions
about Question 6
Why
is gay rights so low profile this year?

Tammy Packie
Yes on 6 promoters
Chris Morris and Jennifer Goldman set up shop at the Skowhegan
Wal-Mart.
Here it is, almost Election Day, and
even folks who don't pay much attention to political matters
can't help but be influenced by the range and intensity of the
issues at hand. We're deluged with radio and TV ads and programming.
The daily commute follows a fluttering highway of yard signs,
banners and bumper stickers. Campaign buttons and lapel pins
bristle on co-workers' clothing. The evening news breathlessly
reports the latest polling data.
Of course, the White House race is the big one. George W. Bush
made a quick campaign stop at Bangor International Airport Friday
and thousands jammed a hangar to see him. And the statewide ballot
questions are big news - at least some of them. There's a definite
hierarchy. At the top are death with dignity, video gambling
and forest clearcutting, all well-funded, pro and con, and boosted
by advertising campaigns, call-in programs, public debates and
prime time media coverage.
The lower-tier issues are barely heralded in the public consciousness.
You might not even know they're out there. A change in waterfront
tax law, voting rights for the mentally ill, and oh, yeah, extending
civil rights to the gay and lesbian communities - all important
issues, but not igniting the controversy of the first three.
Hold it. Gay rights? When did this
turn into a take-it-or-leave-it issue? What's happened to "We
are everywhere" and the high-profile, passionate fight for
equality under the law? After 20 years of wading through the
legislative process, braving the judgments and slams of the Christian
Right, and relieving the prejudices of the masses, where, exactly,
is the energy behind the Yes on 6 campaign?
Trying to gauge the direction and the temperature of the effort,
I called Yes on 6 headquarters in Saco to see if I could catch
a ride on the Equality Express, the campaign's RV mobile unit.
It took a few days to get linked up with media secretary Tony
Giampetruzzi, and another day or so to hammer out a plan with
Jennifer Goldman, the Equality Express coordinator. Finally,
we agreed to meet in Waterville, and on the appointed afternoon
I climbed aboard the slogan-covered red, white and blue bus and
headed toward Skowhegan, with Goldman driving and the campaign's
field coordinator, Chris Morris, along for the ride.
Since the Equality Express is billed as a grassroots awareness-raising
effort, I expected to find more campaign representatives on board,
and more of a happenin' atmosphere. But Goldman, Morris and I
were the only riders that day. Our destination was the Skowhegan
Wal-Mart parking lot; no particular "event," just an
opportunity for local people to hear more about the goals of
the campaign. After that, Goldman said, the bus would head for
the Farmington campus of the University of Maine; again, no rally
or other assembly was planned.
Goldman told me the bus has been on the road to rural communities
across the state since the second week in September. "By
Nov. 7, we will have spent time in every county in the state,"
she said. The bus has visited all the campuses of the university
system, and most other colleges, along with church meetings,
rallies and bean suppers at Grange Halls. "At each stop
we're getting the word out, recruiting volunteers and registering
voters," she said. At no time have they met with opposition,
and never have they been asked to leave, she said.
In response to the suggestion that this "preaching to the
choir" routine is unlikely to bring new supporters to Yes
on 6, Morris maintains. "The strategy is not to change people's
minds, but to educate the undecided. When people find out that
right now in Maine you can be fired from your job because you're
gay or lesbian, or because someone thinks you are, they're very
supportive."
Also, since the devastating people's veto of 1998 overturned
Maine's fledgling gay rights law, grassroots organizers have
worked on acquainting small-town residents with their homosexual
neighbors, he said, breaking down traditional us-and-them barriers.
Morris said the most recent poll shows Mainers favor the passage
of Question 6, but narrowly. Nonetheless, he feels the campaign
will succeed. "I believe Mainers are against discrimination,"
he said. Morris, a veteran of similar campaigns in Idaho, Michigan,
Washington and Colorado, says the lack of visible contention
in Maine's small towns bears testimony to "people's wanting
to settle the issue and have fairness prevail."
Still, despite Morris' optimism, the
campaign seems to be flying alarmingly below radar. Yes on 6
yard signs are scarce in these parts; I know of just three in
all of Orono, excluding the campus. Along Route 2 to Bangor,
heavily papered with signs from all the various campaigns, I
have seen only a couple for Question 6. On my recent trip to
Skowhegan aboard the Equality Express, one lonely Yes on 6-er
fought for space in the overcrowded in-town rotary. Even my hosts
seemed jubilant to see it there.
I'm not a big TV or radio fan, yet it is still surprising that
I have seen no ads and have happened upon no debates or call-in
programs.
Even supposing that the atmosphere in Maine has softened on the
issue - which seems likely, yet far from certain - shouldn't
the campaign be out in front with its message of fairness and
equal rights?
Yes on 6 manager Jeanette Fruen says the focus of the campaign
is on the grassroots level, and much of the financial and organizational
energy has been diffused to the hinterlands. Fruen, a veteran
of last year's defeat of the attempt to constrain abortion rights
in Maine, as well as other winning campaigns in many states,
says the community-level focus has been successful. "We've
attended 35 house parties all over the state," she said.
"We have contributors from every county. Our responsibility
has been to make sure that our local organizers have the materials
they need and that people who ask for more information get it."
She dismisses concern over the visibility and organization of
the campaign, and hints at greater things to come in the 10 days
ahead.
But some members of the gay and lesbian
community, including well-known leaders of past Maine Won't Discriminate
campaigns, suggest the low-decibel signal of Yes on 6 may originate
in a painful divide within the group itself, a schism most are
anxious to keep quiet, at least until after the vote. One source
of dissonance is the change in the wording of the law. The bill,
LD 2239, was written last February by Sen. Joel Abromson [R-
Portland] and reflects a compromise with the Maine Catholic Diocese,
a powerful opponent of previous bills. Under the new language,
churches may be exempted from the mandates of the anti-discrimination
law if it violates their beliefs and teachings.
The bill was approved by the Judiciary Committee, passed through
both houses of the Legislature with little opposition, and was
signed by the governor, with a curious lack of fanfare, at the
end of the legislative session in April.
The new language allowed the controversial endorsement by the
Catholic Church, a sort of backhanded nod of acceptance that
lets the church abjure discrimination while at the same time
excusing itself from the legal obligation to practice what it
preaches.
Spokesman for the Diocese Mark Mutty said the endorsement allows
the church to take a stand against discrimination based on orientation
rather than on behavior, a fine, "don't ask, don't tell"
line Mutty admits looks like, but insists is not, hypocrisy.
He said the Bishop's reasons for giving approval now are straightforward.
"The separation of church and state means that we want to
be able to hold our organization to a different set of standards
than the world at large. For example, if someone works here in
the church in a visible position, they need to sign a contract
saying they'll live according to the teachings of the church.
The church teaches that the expression of sexuality should take
place between a man and a woman within the bounds of marriage.
Period."
Mutty said the exemption clause pertains to the diocese itself,
the parishes and chancery, and Catholic schools. Affiliates like
Catholic Charities and health care facilities forfeit the exemption
if they accept state funding. Similar restrictions apply to other
denominations that wish to claim exempt status.
Regardless of the intent, one effect of the diocese's endorsement
is a financial vacuum in the camp of the opposition. Mike Heath,
director of the Christian Civic League, said although the Christian
Right is still strongly against Question 6, the loss of the Catholic
Church's financial support has crippled the battle. "We
were unhappy about it," he said, "and unaware of the
negotiations that were going on." Heath said other than
the weekly message from the pulpit, organized opposition is limited
to local leafleting and telephoning efforts.
The Maine Council of Churches supports the bill.
Some gays and lesbians plan to vote against Question 6 because
of the compromise with the church. "After the 'partial birth
abortion' question was defeated," one said, "it was
clear that we didn't need to cave in to the interests of the
Catholic Church the law should have been written clean and pure."
Some veterans of past gay rights campaigns did not return calls
or refused to discuss the divisive church issue; others spoke
off the record. But their collective silence in the waning days
of the campaign speaks volumes about the sapped energy of the
Yes on 6 effort.
Terse official comments from the community are typified by Maine
Civil Liberties Union Director Sally Sutton: "When the bill
was before the Legislature, we had some concerns over the religious
exemption the possibility of tightening up that language. But
the law that is before Maine voters now provides protection to
all citizens, and we are in full support of it."
Another behind-the-scenes controversy is whether the newly drafted
legislation should have been put out to referendum at all. Since
the earlier bill had been approved by the Legislature and signed
by the governor without a public vote, opponents had access to
the people's veto mechanism to overturn it.
The bill this time around is written to require public approval
at the outset, thereby disabling that option. But some within
the gay community argue that it was neither wise nor necessary
to offer the public the opportunity to turn the bill down, given
the approval and support of the Legislature and the changing
political times - even in the short period between the '98 veto
and now.
Growing out of these two philosophical and strategic concerns
is a less high-toned argument over the campaign in general -
the process and progress of its fundraising, the allocation of
those funds, the distribution of materials. Workers in rural
areas have complained of a lack of signs and other material and
organizational support. One Portland resident said, "They
raised $260,000 and all they've got is that bus, and already
they've ripped the air conditioner off the top."
All this has taken its toll among
the ranks of those who could be united in celebrating an important
achievement whose time seems likely to have come. Most supporters
argue that the endorsement of the Catholic Church has removed
an overwhelming obstacle from the path to success. Jeanette Fruen
says she doesn't think the religious exemption "has been
divisive at all the church is always exempted everybody understands
that." And Fruen says times have changed enough that passage
of Question 6 is looking good. "I think there's no question
that times have changed significantly in the past few years,
partly because so many people have come out about their sexual
orientation. Virtually everybody now knows someone who is gay
or lesbian; 10 years ago that would never have been the case."
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