MOREHEAD, Ky. -- A Kentucky county clerk returned to work Monday for the first time since she was jailed for defying a federal court and announced that she would no longer block her deputies from issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples.

Standing at the courthouse door, Rowan County Clerk Kim Davis read from a handwritten statement and explained in a quivering voice that she had been faced with a "seemingly impossible choice" between following her conscience and losing her freedom.

So she agreed to an "emergency stopgap" concession, her lawyer later said: She did not stop her deputy clerk from issuing licenses edited to remove her name, her title and her authorization. But, she said, she had "grave concerns" that the licenses would be invalid without her signature.

A Democrat and Apostolic Christian elected last fall, Davis rocketed to folk-hero status among many Christian conservatives when she refused to issue licenses after the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage. She defied federal Judge David Bunning, lost a string of appeals, then sat in a jail cell for five days as hundreds of protesters, news crews and politicians descended on this small, rural town unaccustomed to media spectacles.

The only couple to receive a license on Monday walked into a surreal scene. Shannon and Carmen Wampler-Collins squeezed through a throng of reporters and protesters and stood at the counter, microphones bobbing above their heads.

Deputy clerk Brian Mason, who began issuing licenses when Davis was hauled to jail, worked behind a sign anointing him the "marriage license deputy." He has issued a dozen licenses since Davis was jailed Sept. 8, eight of them to same-sex couples, and has pledged to continue issuing them despite his boss's wishes.

Hecklers shouted "coward" at him from the side of the room. Mason, a 38-year-old former retail worker who unwittingly fell into the middle of the firestorm, smiled at them and turned back to his work.

"It's a little crazy, but I try not to let it bother me," Mason said.

One protester waved a Bible and shouted. Elizabeth Johnston from Ohio screamed, "Don't let Kim's five days in jail be in vain."

Marriage equality supporters tried to drown them out: "Love has won," they chanted.

The scene dragged on for a half-hour as Davis remained in her office, the door closed and the blinds drawn. Mason went into her office three times, though he attributed the holdup to printer and software problems.

When he finally finished the license, he handed it to the couple and shook their hands.

Davis' attorneys later said they hoped the concession would satisfy the judge's order enough to keep her out of jail. But they said the validity of the licenses remains in limbo. They called on the Legislature to rewrite state law to accommodate clerks with religious objections and blamed Gov. Steve Beshear for refusing to call a special session to find a solution.

The governor, the attorney general and the county attorney have said the licenses are valid.

But attorneys for the American Civil Liberties Union, which sued Davis on behalf of four couples denied licenses by her office, said late Monday that they "have concerns about the validity of the marriage licenses issued today given the further alteration of the forms."

The ACLU's lawsuit led to Davis spending five nights in jail for contempt of court. U.S. District Court Judge David Bunning let her out last week under strict orders to "not interfere in any way, directly or indirectly, with the efforts of her deputy clerks to issue marriage licenses to all legally eligible couples."

"We brought this case to ensure that our clients and all eligible couples could legally marry in Rowan County," ACLU attorney James Esseks said in a statement. "We are reviewing the changes to determine our next steps."

Davis said she did not want to be in the spotlight.

"And I certainly don't want to be a whipping post. I am no hero. I'm just a person that's been transformed by the grace of God, who wants to work, be with my family. I just want to serve my neighbours quietly without violating my conscience," she said.

Outside, the Rowan County Courthouse plaza took on the air of a carnival: Media packed into white-topped tents. Christian music blared from loudspeakers. People shouted Bible verses from the sidewalk. A plane flew overhead trailing a rainbow banner, a sign of support for gay rights.

The issue has drawn some of the most fervent Christian activists from across the U.S. Their trucks were parked up and down the street, bearing signs that read "sodomy ruins nations" and "repent."

 

Associated Press Writer Adam Beam contributed from Louisville, Kentucky.