COLUMBUS, OH — A decade after the landmark U.S. Supreme Court decision that legalized same-sex marriage nationwide, the two men whose names became synonymous with the case — Jim Obergefell and Rick Hodges — are not bitter adversaries, but close friends who now share the stage at events and panels.

Their story began under tragic circumstances. In 2011, Obergefell’s longtime partner, John Arthur, was diagnosed with ALS, a progressive and incurable disease. The couple traveled to Maryland in 2013 to get married, as their home state of Ohio did not allow same-sex unions. When Arthur passed away shortly afterward, Obergefell sued the state to have their marriage recognized on Arthur’s death certificate — a legal battle that eventually made its way to the Supreme Court as Obergefell v. Hodges.

Rick Hodges, then director of the Ohio Department of Health, was the named defendant in the case. Despite his official role defending the state’s ban on same-sex marriage, Hodges said he personally supported Obergefell’s cause. “Professionally, I had a job to do and I did it to the best of my ability,” Hodges said, noting that privately, he and several on the state’s legal team backed the plaintiffs’ effort.

In fact, months before the ruling, Hodges quietly convened a group of Ohio lawyers to prepare licensing documents so that judges across the state could issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples immediately if the Court ruled in favor of marriage equality.

The two men didn’t meet until a year after the Supreme Court’s June 26, 2015 ruling. At an LGBTQ+ advocacy event, Obergefell was asked if he’d like to meet Hodges. Somewhat unsure, he replied, “I don’t know, you tell me. Do I want to meet Rick Hodges?” But when they finally sat down over coffee, they found they shared common ground and a mutual respect.

What began as an awkward introduction has since turned into a genuine friendship. They now see each other a few times a year and often speak together at conferences and public forums. Hodges joked, “It’s funny, whenever we go into an event together, everybody claps for him and looks at me like I’m the prince of darkness — until we’re done, and then it’s great.”

Their friendship, as Obergefell’s attorney Al Gerhardstein put it, is “unusual in a very positive and exemplary way.” It offers a rare glimpse of civility and reconciliation in America’s often-polarized legal and political battles.

“I can’t think of other cases where the plaintiff and the defendant are friends,” Obergefell said. “They might exist, I don’t know about them. But I’m really glad that Rick and I are friends.”