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Ten marriages, five hours, history.

It seemed straightforward and simple for the 10 same-sex couples married in a Washington, D.C., church March 9, the first day of legal marriage ceremonies in the District. But the path that led those 10 couples to the historic, joyous marriage bonanza belies the drive-through style with which they were declared "husband and husband" or "wife and wife."

Cindy Scharf was kicked out of her Catholic church for being gay. Jenn and Kara Kali's daughter was without a legal mother for two months due to a complicated adoption process. Andrea and Corita Waters paid a few thousand dollars just to have their son.

"It's been hard to watch as they have been denied their rights all this time," said the Rev. Elizabeth Lerner Maclay after presiding over the fourth of 10 weddings she officiated March 9, perspiration already forming on her forehead during the unseasonable warmth.

Maclay, the parish minister at Unitarian Universalist Church on New Hampshire Avenue in Silver Spring, has ministered dozens of "life commitment" ceremonies for same-sex couples at her church. They looked and felt like any straight couples wedding, she said, but were absent one crucial detail present in all 10 weddings last week.

At the end of every half-hour ceremony she declared the marriage valid "under the law of the District of Columbia." And every time she said "law," the rest of her sentence was drowned by cheers and applause from the hundreds in attendance.

The weddings were sponsored by the Silver Spring church, where seven of the 10 couples are parishioners, but held at the Universalist National Memorial Church in Dupont Circle, taking advantage of two recent landmark decisions. In the District, the city council recently passed legislation allowing same-sex marriages, becoming the sixth American jurisdiction to do so.

In Maryland last month, Attorney General Douglas F. Gansler issued an opinion stating Maryland courts would recognize same-sex marriages performed in other states.

Within five days following March 3, the first day couples could file for a marriage application, more than 450 eager couples applied at D.C. Superior Court, well above the average of 50 to 60 marriage applications in a normal week, said Leah Gurowitz, a spokeswoman for the court. It didn't leave much time for traditional wedding plans, but the slate of 10 marriages on March 9 ran smoothly.

Each couple received a half hour to wed in the Memorial Church's high-ceilinged, sanctuary filled with stained glass. Maclay gave each couple their own personalized sermon, some read their own vows, some included music and one requested a blessing where everyone in attendance gathered in a massive circle grasping onto each other's shoulders.

When the ceremony ended there was the usual glad-handing, sniffles and hugs in the pews and hallways, but as each half hour neared its close, the couple and their guests were ushered into the church basement for an ongoing wedding reception, where attendees of the previous weddings awaited them. By the eighth wedding, the church reached capacity.

Once the following wedding began, the reception band was given the cue to play the previous couple its "first dance" song. The process was repeated 10 times, from 4 to 9 p.m.

"We had planned on asking a minister to meet us at a Starbucks," said Cindy Scharf, 49, of Silver Spring, who married her partner of 10 years, Olivia Pickett, March 9. "But then we heard the church was coming together for this large ceremony and we signed up."

Scharf and Pickett, 67, traveled to Oregon in 2004 when the state was briefly granting same-sex marriage licenses. But soon after, the measure was reversed and the marriage was not recognized. Their marriage application check was returned.

While the couple now feels it finally has the rights afforded to straight couples, their wedding day couldn't mask the lack of acceptance the couple has felt in the past. Scharf's parents did not attend the ceremony because they don't accept her lifestyle, she said. She was raised in a conservative Catholic church and eventually shunned because of her homosexuality.

"There are some religions, and then there are other religions," Pickett said sarcastically.

Of Jenn and Karen Kali's four parents, only one, Karen's mother, even considered attending their wedding Tuesday. For all of the celebration, most couples realized a marriage license wasn't going to change the opinions of those against their lifestyle.

"As much as we are celebrating today, it could all be gone tomorrow," said Jenn Kali, 31, a statistician who lives in downtown Silver Spring.

Protests marred some of last week's marriage ceremonies in D.C., and in Maryland some state lawmakers are calling for Gansler's impeachment following his opinion.

"The Attorney General places himself above the law and unaccountable to the citizens of this state," Del. Donald H. Dwyer Jr. (R-Dist. 31) of Glen Burnie said in a statement this week. Dwyer will raise the issue of impeachment during a March 31 session on the floor of the state House of Representatives, but Gansler has said there are no legal grounds for his impeachment within the General Assembly.

Dwyer and opponents to Gansler's opinion claim he is circumventing the state legislature and Court of Appeals in making his opinion and ignoring the existing state law that recognizes marriage only between a man and a woman.

"It's hard to see people feel such anger on a day of joy for us," Scharf said when asked about opponents to Gansler and the D.C. city council's decisions.

Despite the unorthodox and historic nature of their ceremonies, the couples insist their marriages weren't rushed due to recent political decisions. The Kalis have been together since the first day of their freshman year of college. Sam and Mark Manivong, both 41, of Washington, D.C., met as 16-year-olds at a part-time job. The Waterses met in middle school.

In their hearts, many of the couples were already married. The legal and social recognition is important, but they aren't going to suddenly turn into mainstream couples.

"We aren't very fond of that nomenclature," Deborah Weiner, a book publisher who works in D.C. and lives in Silver Spring with her new wife and partner of 24 years, Jan Harrelson, said last week when asked if the couple has begun referring to each other as "wife." "We've decided not to use it."