Pa. Cousins Try to Overcome Taboo of 'I Do'

"And that generally wasn't realized by people. They thought if you marry your cousin, the risk was much, much higher," said Arno Motulsky, a professor of genome sciences at the University of Washington who co-authored the study.

When the study appeared, however, news coverage often emphasized the low risk without noting that such marriages pose less danger because they are rare.

"They went completely over the other way and said there's no risk. That's not true," Motulsky said. "Persons should get full counseling, full advice about what they are getting into, what the problems are, and then it should be left to them."

For Andrews and Amrhein, childbearing was not an issue: They said they did not plan to have any children. Instead, they just want to be together.

Neither revealed their secret to anyone until about seven years ago. They began to date after her marriage ended in divorce and his longtime relationship broke up.

Their families recoiled at the news. When the two began living together, her family disowned her for a time. She was no longer welcome at Sunday dinners. They refused to take her telephone calls. Friends dredged up Bible passages to scold them.

They settled down in their blue-and-white mobile home with three dogs, a cat, two guinea pigs named Beavis and Butt-Head, and an iguana that loves to eat kiwi.

Andrews collects disability payments from the government. Amrhein works at the courtesy desk at Wal-Mart.

"I tell people I married her for the health benefits and the Wal-Mart discount card," Andrews said, only half-joking.

She slapped his thigh.

"Yeah," she said, eyes rolling.

They kid each other a lot and share many interests, such as camping and fishing. They agree to disagree on other things. He smokes Jacks 100's; she prefers Marlboros. He hunts. She loves animals.