Exclusion Adds to Pain of Loss

Virginia Law Denies Benefits to Domestic Partners of Sept. 11 Attack Victims

Grow old along with me.

The best is yet to be.

Peg Neff and Sheila Hein placed a plaque with Robert Browning's poetry in their garden a few years ago, believing they would spend the rest of their lives together.

But American Airlines Flight 77 ended their 18-year relationship Sept. 11. The hijacked jet slammed into the Pentagon almost exactly at the spot where Hein, a civilian Army employee, had been reassigned the week before.

Now Hein's ashes sit on the mantle. Neff, 54, wants to sprinkle them in the garden, but she can't risk it until she knows whether she will be able to hang onto the University Park home they lovingly restored.

The enormity of Neff's loss sank in slowly. As with many Pentagon families, Hein, 51, had been the main breadwinner and financial manager. Neff, studying for her real estate license, had given notice at work. Even if she stayed, her wages couldn't cover the mortgage.

Americans across the country want to help the terrorism victims -- they've donated more than $1 billion to that cause. But when Neff began calling the dozens of agencies and charity groups offering benefits, she quickly learned that many were unable or unwilling to look beyond the classic definitions: spouse, child or parent.

"I will do whatever it takes to keep this house. . . . But it is damn frustrating," she said.

Hein, it turns out, died in the wrong state. New York Gov. George E. Pataki (R) issued a proclamation making clear that his state would help longtime domestic partners of victims at the World Trade Center. But Virginia officials have stayed silent on the subject, leaving in place a law that limits victims' benefits to spouses, parents, grandparents, siblings and children.

"New York embraced all of the victims. Virginia chose to exclude some of them. That was heartless and unfair," said David Smith, spokesman for the Human Rights Campaign, which lobbies for gay rights and has worked to help Neff. "This was an 18-year relationship that was a marriage in every sense of the word but the legal one. It illustrates the inequities of our legal situation."

Hein's Army job gave her $2,300 a month in take-home pay. Neff and a friend have contacted more than a dozen charities and government agencies. The Red Cross came up with $7,900 for immediate expenses, the National Association of Realtors helped with the mortgage, and a federal employees group promised some assistance.

But Neff has been denied Hein's government life insurance, been turned down by the Virginia Criminal Injuries Compensation Board and even had to get Hein's mother to sign a power of attorney before the Army would release her partner's remains to her.

Several groups have told her they haven't set guidelines for which relatives qualify for aid. Others, particularly state and federal agencies, said they were bound by laws and rules reserving key decisions and benefits for next of kin.

One organization even said, "We don't look too kindly on those type of relationships," said Susan Elmasian, a neighbor who has been helping Neff.

In some ways, Neff is fortunate. She and Hein had wills leaving everything to each other, and they co-owned their assets. Hein's mother, Clio Stearns -- legally the next of kin -- considers Neff a daughter and has tried to preserve Neff's preeminent role in Hein's life.

"They were as good as married as far as I can see," said Stearns, who lives in Springfield, Mass.

Mary Ware, director of the Virginia Criminal Injuries Compensation Fund, said state law allows her no leeway in determining who is eligible.

The Human Rights Campaign is gearing up for a fight over who will qualify for the pot of federal money for terrorism victims. Part of the airline bailout bill passed in September set aside funds for families of victims who agree not to file wrongful-death suits. The Justice Department is to release draft eligibility rules by Dec. 22.

Neff's ability to keep her home could rest on how those rules are written. "Who is the money going to go to -- the estate or the next of kin?" Smith said. If the Justice Department opts for the estate, Neff would receive compensation because of Hein's will. If funds are limited to next of kin, Neff is entitled to nothing.

Neff and Hein, both former Navy photographers, met on the opposite ends of a government contract. Neff worked for a private photo lab; Hein was managing the job. Although Hein was married, the two women hit it off and soon moved into a town house in Laurel. Hein's marriage dissolved amicably -- both Neff and Stearns speak fondly of Hein's ex-husband, who once returned to the area from Wisconsin to help move her piano.

"I am at the opposite plane from Sheila. She is extremely logical, analytical. Listen to me -- I'm using the present tense," Neff said. "She was the one who understood financial concepts. I was doing hypnosis. . . . We were balanced."

Hein was forever tackling new challenges, whether it was joining Toastmasters to improve her public speaking, helping Neff learn massage or going back to college.

Their families were supportive of the relationship. Hein's parents came for Christmas every year, and Neff still hasn't told her father -- now 91 and in an assisted-living facility in Arizona -- that Hein is dead. "My father adored Sheila. He talked to her more than he ever talked to me," Neff said.

Hein and Neff thought they had done everything possible to protect each other. In addition to their wills, they executed medical powers of attorney, and Hein made sure that Neff was the beneficiary of her thrift savings account. About six months ago, Neff took out a $150,000 life insurance policy so that Hein would be able to keep the house if Neff died.

Hein had life insurance through work. After the attacks, though, Neff learned from the Office of Personnel Management that Hein never completed a beneficiary form, so the money now goes to next of kin.

Things may work out in the long run -- Stearns says she doesn't want to inherit money from her only daughter and plans to help Neff. But the OPM letter was another reminder that Neff's 18 years with Hein aren't the same, to some, as a marriage certificate.

To Neff's surprise, the military has been consistently supportive. Secretary of Defense Donald H. Rumsfeld's official letter of condolence came right out and referred to Hein as Neff's partner; and the counselors, chaplains and compassion officer assigned to help Neff navigate the process of retrieving Hein's ashes and obtaining relief have been uniformly helpful and friendly, she said.

"After I said 'partner,' there wasn't one raised eyebrow. Not one. I was expecting the military to be a real pain, but they have been real attentive and kind," Neff said.

The hunt for help has consumed much of Neff's time, but even success couldn't begin to fill the enormous void in her life.

"Money isn't always the issue. I miss her intelligence. I used to think she was too smart, that she didn't have a lot of common sense. The longer we were together, the more wisdom and compassion she had," Neff said.

"God, I miss that woman."