By Rachel Dowd

Photo: Robin Tyler, center, and Diane Olson, right, celebrate their momentous union on the steps of the Beverly Hills Courthouse as attorney Gloria Allred stands by

At 5:01pm on June 16, 2008, Robin Tyler and Diane Olson made history. Four years after they had filed a lawsuit for the right to marry with the California Supreme Court, they became the first same-sex couple in Los Angeles County to tie the knot. When a reporter asked where they were going for their honeymoon, Tyler laughed and replied, “To sleep.”

Exhaustion would be understandable, considering Tyler and Olson, who have been together for 16 years, have spent the lion’s share of the past four decades marching in the streets, making speeches, and demanding equal rights for gays and lesbians.

But the dynamic duo didn’t get to rest. On November 4, Proposition 8, a state constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage in California, passed by 52.3 percent of the vote. So Tyler and Olson (along with throngs of others nationwide) took to the streets in protest. They spoke at rallies, lead chants of “Yes We Can,” and called a community of gay and straight allies to arms.

As the supreme court prepares in March to hear a petition challenging the legality of Prop 8 — not surprisingly submitted by Tyler and Olson as well as organizations like LAMBDA Legal and the American Civil Liberties Union — the activists once again find themselves on the front lines of an historic battle for equality.

What was the reaction to your wedding last June?

Diane Olson: It was unbelievable. The next day Robin and I walked into a Starbucks and all the kids that worked there came around the counter and started applauding and saying, “Free coffee for you two!” We crossed the street and people would stop their cars to say, “Congratulations!” Tommy’s Hamburger gave us free French fries. So don’t say the movement doesn’t pay. (laughs)

Robin Tyler: By being televised on newscasts, people got to know us. They saw us crying during the wedding and they were really happy for us. Familiarity doesn’t breed contempt; it breeds love.

Considering such an outpouring of support, were you surprised by the results of Prop 8?

RT: I said to Diane weeks before, “We’re going to lose it.”

DO: Robin went to sleep at 7pm on election night. The day before the election, West Hollywood councilmember John Duran had said to me, “Diane, don’t get nervous. At about 6 o’clock, returns are going to start coming in from Orange County and they’re going to be low numbers. When they start to tally LA, we’re going to see the numbers flip. We’re going to win.” So at 1 o’clock in the morning, I’m sitting here waiting for the numbers to flip, and they never flipped. She knew.

RT: I was calm, because I had already arranged to go into our attorney Gloria Allred’s office in the morning. The reality of losing was hard — we still cried — but I wanted to jump in right away to give people hope. My statement to the press was, we lost one battle, but this is a war, and we will win. It’s just a matter of time. We didn’t want to show us at all defeated. We wanted to show we are warriors, not victims.

OK, but how did support for marriage equality, up by double digits in September, end up losing?

DO: I just think the “No on 8” campaign was run very badly. Everyone is afraid to say that and I’m not. I know three gay people that filled in yes because they didn’t know what they were voting for. There were no commercials that showed us. Robin came up with the slogan “Stop the hate, No on 8,” and the campaign said, “Oh, don’t put the hate word in there.”

RT: They didn’t think we should call it discrimination or hate. I’m part of the love generation — me and Harvey Milk — and we believed in visibility. How can you be a civil rights movement but not be seen because you’re the “ick” factor? But gay people have believed for so long that it’s OK to be in the closet that they accepted the premise that if we’re really quiet, they’ll give us something. Power is never given; you have to take it. When we first started in the ’60s, none of us had anything to lose and everything to gain. When executive directors have the power to raise $20 million, there is something to lose. They don’t belong running a campaign.

What do you think the California Supreme Court will decide in March?

RT: I bet Kate Kendall of the National Center for Lesbian Rights $100 that we’d win. I don’t think the Supreme Court will rule against us. Not one of our lawyers asked in the original lawsuit for us to be declared a “suspect class.” We were shocked; that was more important than the marriage stuff. So why did these justices do it? They’re not stupid up there. I think they gave the legal reason to be able to overturn the vote.

DO: It’s going to be very hard for these justices. Right now Robin and I are legally married. To go and rip that away from us is going to be very difficult.

RT: But if we remain married and they don’t allow other marriages, then the hell with it. I don’t want to be the only ones on the freedom train.

DO: They won’t do that. My dad is a judge; I can read judges pretty well.

But what if they do uphold the results of Prop 8?

RT: I hope there are hundreds of thousands of people on the streets even more angry than we were after Prop 8. It has to go on the ballot in 2010. I don’t think it should be put to the vote — this is a civil rights movement, not a popularity contest — but we’re going to have to do it.

How will the next round be different?

RT: Grassroots is how we did it in the ’70s, and we won when it was really against us. [In 1978, the Briggs Initiative, which would have banned gays and lesbians from working in California public schools, was defeated by a 52-48 percent margin.] If you have political pressure and judicial pressure, you still need the streets. All of the stuff we’ve done has always had a grassroots, door-to-door component. And this time, we have a huge amount of straight allies.

DO: People have asked, “Why not call it something else?” Here’s my answer: Robin and I own a tour company. We travel all over the world. All I have to say is we’re married and it’s universally understood. It says to the world, this is my person. This is the person I’m going to live the rest of my life with. This is the person I’m committed to financially, legally and spiritually. When we became domestic partners, there was one woman in a downtown office. No one came from around the counter to say congratulations.

Does it make you tired to have to go back into battle?

DO: I get tired of the infighting. I’ve been watching Robin for 16 years while people jump up and down at her, saying, “What a silly notion, don’t be ridiculous, Robin. The right to marry? What are you, crazy?” But I’ve seen a self-esteem shift happen with a lot of kids once we were so public about getting married. It made it a little safer to come out to their families. So if all of this stops one kid from slicing his wrist open because he has to be in the closet, then it’s worth it to me.

RT: No, I’m not tired. When I was younger, the movement was invigorating and exciting. Now it has totally exploded again just like when I was a kid. I’m almost a grandmother to the generation that’s now on the streets. I have my passion back. I’m 66 years old, and I get to do what made me perhaps the happiest in my life.