Abortion Advocates


Abortion 12th & Delaware

Abortion

Abortion Care Network (ACN)

DON’T MISS the Award Winning HBO Documentary, 12th and Delaware, Monday August 2, at 8 pm Eastern Time.  This extraordinary documentary shines a light on a national disgrace–the proliferation of so called Crisis Pregnancy Centers (CPCS).  CPCS advertise as if they are abortion clinics to trick women who are seeking abortion services into hearing lies and half-truths designed to coerce them to continue pregnancies. Starting in the early 1980’s a network of these centers was set up all over the United States.

Though it can be difficult for a woman to find a real abortion/family planning clinic near her, there are thousands of CPCS. In this documentary Rachel Grady and Heidi Ewing, producers of Jesus Camp,  have captured an unscripted look at a CPC and how women are treated there—and at the abortion clinic across the street and  how women are treated there.   Whatever your thoughts, feelings, and beliefs about abortion, don’t miss this unique opportunity to let both ‘sides’ speak for themselves.

Please forward this to everyone on your e-mail list and invite friends over to watch.

 

Abortion Pill

Abortion

I’ve been told that one of the tricks to making a blog more visible is to mention the keyword that you are dealing with as often as you can.  In this case, of course, the word is ABORTION.   If you mention a word like ABORTION as often as possible, it gets indexed better, or it gets picked by the Googles or something happens that is good.   I don’t get it.  ABORTION.

 

So, I try to come up with an ABORTION topic every few days but I gotta tell you that this has been an incredibly sucky week for me and I don’t have the energy to write about ABORTION or the anti-ABORTION people or late term ABORTION.  I just want this ABORTION of a week to end.

It started late Saturday night when my 20 year old son, who I did not ABORT, complained of severe stomach pains.  Ultimately, we took him to our local hospital, which does not do ABORTIONS, and he sat there for four hours.  Fortunately, I talked over the phone to my good friend, Doctor Scott, and he made us feel a little better about his situation.  My son ultimately survived, unlike the fetus during an ABORTION.

Then the next day, I got hit with the same stomach cramps.  They felt much like the cramps you get when you have a non-surgical ABORTION.  I got feverish, had the runs like you wouldn’t believe.  I spent hours and hours in the bathroom.  Probably the most annoying thing was every time I made my trek to the porcelain God, my stupid dog followed me in and just stared at me.  Do they perform ABORTIONS on dogs?  All she wanted to do was play with her damned rubber toy.  Hey, dog, get outta my face!  Can’t you see I’m peeing through my butt here?

The next few days were a blur, like the days following an ABORTION.  One day I just took Nyquil and slept for 24 straight hours.  I mean, I missed everything.  We could have been hit with a nuclear bomb and I wouldn’t have known it.  It was surreal.

Then, of course, to add insult to injury there was the heat.  It got as hot around here as a saline ABORTION (which they don’t do anymore, by the way).  Here in Virginia, it climbed over 100 degrees, there was no rain, the air did not move, everything turned brown in three days.  We broke records.   And some folks are still telling me there’s no global warming issue.  Those folks should be ABORTED.

By Wednesday night, I was able to eat some unbuttered toast and hot tea.  Hurray!  Finally, something solid in my stomach.  Five minutes later, I threw it up.

Have I mentioned ABORTION lately?

This morning, however, I feel like I’m turning the corner.  I feel like there’s some light at the end of the tunnel, that a new day is dawning.  The temperature has dropped to a lovely 98 degrees and we actually had a 27 second cloudburst this morning.  The birds are chirping again.  I feel like my life is back on track.   Kinda like after you’ve had an ABORTION.

Jeferson Abortion

Abortion Pills

I hope everyone had a pleasant and safe Fourth of July.  Of course, when we think of Independence Day we no doubt think about our basic freedoms that were articulated so elegantly in the Declaration of Independence.   We think wistfully of our Founding Fathers, debating back and forth for months upon end in the steaming heat of that Philadelphia summer.

Or, I could be wrong.

Maybe most folks just think about tossing firecrackers at passing automobiles from the parkway overhang or pigging out on beer and hot dogs.  Or maybe Independence Day is that Will Smith movie where the aliens blew up the White House.  You decide.  As for me, thinking me-self a scholar of sorts, I will take the high road.

We all know by now that the word “abortion” is not in the Declaration of Independence or in the U.S. Constitution.  Indeed, I am no expert but I’ll venture to guess that the word never even came up during the deliberations over those two historic documents.    Now, the pro-lifers will say: “Wake up, Pat, the framers were thinking about abortion when they wrote that we are guaranteed “LIFE, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”    So, there’s the proof that Jefferson, Franklin, et al were opposed to abortion.   That’s a bunch of horse dung and everyone knows it.   Chances are that when Jefferson read that line aloud to the delegates, they all looked at him and said “good line, Tommy, let’s get on with it” and there was no discussion after that.  They had more important things to discuss, like the question of slavery.

Ultimately, as we all know, on January 22, 1973 the U.S. Supreme Court handed down the landmark Roe v Wade decision.  Ironically, the decision was not the headline of the day because on that same day President Lyndon Baines Johnson died.  In the Roe decision, the Court said basically said that the constitutional right to privacy extended to the right of a woman to obtain an abortion.  Yes, the word “privacy” cannot be found anywhere in the original Constitution but that document is a living document, our interpretation of it evolves (if it didn’t, blacks would still be using separate bathrooms) and in previous decisions the Court had determined that married couples had a right to privacy when it came to birth control.  So, this decision took that right one step further.

In so many words, Blackmun and the 6 other justices who joined him, said that a woman could have an abortion through the second trimester with basically no questions asked.  After the fetus became viable, the states could impose restrictions (which most of them have).  Thus started the abortion wars.  The pro-life movement was born, the battle lines were drawn and the public was subjected to decades of dueling bumper stickers.

Interestingly, the ONLY time the pro-life movement was able to force a vote reversing the Roe v Wade decision was in 1983, when the Senate overwhelming defeated the Hatch Constitutional Amendment.  It was not even close.  While pro-life forces needed 67 votes to pass the Amendment, they didn’t even get a majority.  The final vote was 49 in favor and 51 against.  Since then, despite the fact that pro-life Congressmen have chaired important committees (e.g., Cong. Henry Hyde chaired the House Judiciary Committee), no similar measure has ever been considered by the Congress.    The bottom line is that the pro-life movement just does not have the votes to outlaw abortion.    So, we’re in good shape there.

But watch out for the Supreme Court, folks.  That’s another story.

Dunkle a Killer Lives Here - Arrow pointing at himself

Dunkle a Killer Lives Here - Arrow pointing at himself

Every time I write a new blog, it engenders a lot of conversation.   Indeed, it seems that lately there are more and more people responding to my stuff and, honestly, my head starts spinning as I try to keep up with the threads and the incessant questioning.  You see, for the most part we have one anti-abortion person who is gutsy enough to put himself out there and to respond as well as he can to the numerous questions posed by those who support abortion rights.  But over the last week or so, a question has been posed that I want to highlight today.

It seems that this anti-abortion activist spends a lot of time protesting at various clinics in the Allentown/Reading area of Pennsylvania.   He also, however, spends every third Sunday of the month standing in front of the house of a young woman who is the Director of the Allentown Women’s Center.  I don’t know exactly what this guy does outside the house, but I picture him holding some kind of sign designed to bring attention to her neighbors that she works in an abortion clinic.  Now, let’s think about this…

First, there is a very good chance that her neighbors already know that she works at a clinic. Indeed, in my experience most abortion clinic workers, owners and doctors usually tell their neighbors about their work, especially if they are expecting some kind of protest.  Generally, the neighbors react very well, no matter what their position on abortion.  While they may not support abortion rights, they also do not want their neighborhood disrupted, especially if someone is holding up an ugly or graphic sign.

Second, and perhaps most important to me, is the question of what does this anti-abortion activist expect to accomplish?   His ultimate goal, his lifelong dream, is to stop “the American Holocaust,” to “save babies.”  Fair enough.  That’s his right and, indeed, I defend his right to be outside someone’s house in protest.

But let’s take this scenario a step further.  Let’s say that this person succeeds and one morning the young woman announces that she cannot take it anymore and that she is leaving the clinic.  Praise Jesus!   The protestor has succeeded!

Upon hearing the news, the owner of the clinic gets very upset.  After all, the young woman has been at the Allentown Women’s Center for many years, has done a lot of good work, has helped thousands of women in need.  She has been a voice not just for the clinic but for national abortion rights groups as well.  She will be sorely missed.   The going away party will be a sad occasion.

And minutes after the clinic owner gets the word, he or she will put the word out that the Allentown Women’s Center is looking for a new Director.   Within a month or so (perhaps shorter in this economic climate), the owner will find a new person to run the clinic. During this time, however, the assistant director will take up much of the load or the owner might even come in and help out.  Meanwhile, the patients will have no idea that the young woman has left.  They really don’t care, to tell you the truth.  And the number of patients that use the clinic in a regular basis will not be affected at all.  In other words, NO BABIES WILL BE SAVED.  The protestor will not be one step closer to his goal.

So, exactly why is this person standing outside of this young woman’s house?

Let’s talk about the “Nuremberg Files.”

Just go to www.christiangallery.com and you’ll see this graphic and wacky website.  It was created years ago by some yahoo named Neal Horsley and for years it struck fear in the heart of many a pro-choicer.    Then, there were some of us who actually found it quite amusing.  More about that later.

I recall we first got wind of this site right after Doctor David Gunn was murdered in Pensacola in 1993.    The site is a list of abortion doctors, clinic staff, clinic owners, pro-choice legislators and leaders of pro-choice groups.  The list was supposedly a list of people who would be “brought to trial when abortion became illegal.”    You know, like the Nuremberg trials.  To add flavor, the site is adorned with lots of red, dripping blood.

What got everyone’s attention was that soon after David Gunn was killed his name, which had been on the list of doctors, had a mysterious line drawn through it.  The pro-choice community went nuts.  Look, they cried in horror, it’s a hit list!  They’re gonna get us all!   The feds jumped all over it but couldn’t do much about it.  Then, the next year, Doctor Baird Britton was murdered by Paul Hill and, oh my God, his name suddenly had a line through it!  The pro-choice community couldn’t believe what was happening, they begged the federal government to shut down this website which they alleged was encouraging, if not commanding, less than normal people to go out and kill those who were on the list.

Mass hysteria paralyzed the pro-choice community.

But then there were those of us who were privately laughing about the whole thing.  Those who had been regularly harassed, terrorized and stalked for years just looked at this list and chuckled.  Then we started comparing notes and found it amusing that some of the folks on the list had retired years earlier or had died years before from natural causes.  We also laughed that anti-choice legislators like Senator Bob Dole were on the list for some bizarre reason.

Still, the media had something sexy.  They had a legal “hit list” and, as a result, Neal Horsley became an overnight talk show sensation.  Or course, he denied that it was a hit list, but he was smart enough to sound like it was one without risking an indictment.  And he knew the pro-choice community was scared shitless.

As for me, I was at the National Coalition of Abortion Providers at the time and I was ticked off that my name was not on the list.   After all, all my colleagues were on it:  Susan Hill, George Tiller, Eleanor Smeal and others.  How come I wasn’t important enough to be on the list?  Others in the field who were not on the list had the same reaction.

So, I picked up the phone and called Neal Horsley, who lived in Georgia at the time.  He didn’t answer but I left a message asking him to please put me on his list.  A few days later, I was on it!

I was back home with my friends.

Well, I guess the day after Father’s Day is as good as any to talk about men and abortion.

It goes without saying that most men are affected when their partner becomes pregnant.  I say “most” because we know there are jerks out there who are just into the wham-bam-thank you m’am mode of relationships.  Let’s put them aside for the moment.  No, on second thought, let’s cut their ____ off.

But I digress.

When a woman becomes pregnant and is not sure what to do, she will generally talk to the man who was involved.  But the fact that there are two people involved means that there could be a difference of opinion on what to do.  The bottom line, of course, is that if there is a conflict, then the woman’s opinion must prevail.  After all, it is her body, right?  Indeed, a number of years ago, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that laws requiring the spouse’s consent to an abortion were unconstitutional.

I’ll say right up front that I can’t prove this, but I have to believe that when faced with this difficult decision both parties usually arrive at the same conclusion.  I’m thinking particularly of more established couples (versus one night stands), where they’ve been either dating for a long time, have been living together or are married.  You gotta assume that if they’ve been together for a while then they are generally pretty simpatico (although my parents were an exception to that rule).  So, the vast majority of couples don’t face any problems.

And while the decision to have an abortion is ultimately the woman’s, we all want to be sensitive to the man’s situation.   That’s why it is important for the man to convey all of his feelings to his partner.  He may be feeling guilty about “getting a woman pregnant.”  He may be concerned that the woman might want to discontinue the relationship.  He may be thinking about that son that he could have had.  If the man is invested in the relationship, then his feelings are just as complex and need to be recognized.

But, again, at some point the woman may decide to have the abortion and the man may feel a little lost in the process.  He may not know what to do, what to say.  But there are a number of things the man can do during the abortion process.

Tell your partner that you’re sorry she is the one who has to go through this physically;

I know this is hard for some men but, yes, ask her how she’s feeling and give her some kind of gift;

Don’t even think about sex for a while because she may not be ready.  After all, it was sex that put her in that predicament, right?

Talk, talk, talk.  You know how women are – they love to process while men prefer one word answers so they can get back to the ball game.  So, suck it up, dudes, and talk to her.

In my last blog, I wrote about my relationship with Mr. Guy Condon, an anti-abortion activist who ran a number of crisis pregnancy centers across the country.  I noted that we had been brought together by an organization called “Common Ground,” which has since closed its doors.

The folks at Common Ground had a very ambitious and, yes, “sexy” agenda.  Their goal was to bring together parties on both sides of controversial issues in an effort to find areas of possible agreement.  So, for example, with the abortion issue, they tried to craft an agreement on how to reduce the number of abortions.   I don’t think they ever succeeded in that particular quest but for a while, this group was much in vogue, they got tons of publicity and lots of money from certain foundations.  Ultimately, however, they were forced to shut their doors.  Honestly, I don’t know what happened and I don’t have the energy to try to research the rise and fall of Common Ground.  Suffice it to say that they are gone.

What many people never realized, however, was that every day there were similar efforts taking place on a smaller scale at the abortion clinics.  No, anti-abortion and pro-choice folks were not sitting down and hashing out peace agreements or crafting joint legislation.   But activists on both sides of the abortion issue were talking and have been talking for years.

The dynamic at an abortion clinic is fascinating.   Generally speaking, the clinic staff people will arrive at the same time and they always know when their local protestors will be out there.  Saturday is usually the biggest day as more women are able to get away from work to have an abortion.  Normally, you would think that the staffers would just walk in and exchange harsh glances or even harsh words with the protestors.   And, yes, in some cases the two sides just didn’t talk and, indeed, there was great animosity.  But there were so many other instances where the clinic staff developed some kind of relationship with their protestors.

Over the years, clinic staffers would tell me how they would bring coffee out to their protestors on cold, winter days or ice tea in the middle of the summer.  Others would actually invite their protestors into the clinic for a tour of the facility.  Several clinic administrators told me that on occasion they would have lunch with the lead protestor in an effort to develop a mutual understanding of their work.  Some clinic staff told me that they would have conversations with the director of the local anti-abortion crisis pregnancy center and even refer women to them if they felt it would be helpful.   It was as if there was a general truce at these clinics and even a curiosity about that person on the other side of the fence.

I’ve already talked about how my relationship with Paul Hill might have saved the lives of a number of abortion providers in Pensacola in 1994.   Of course, no one can prove that talking to the other side might prevented some kind of tragedy but many of the clinic administrators (or doctors) who regularly engaged with “the enemy” told me that the conversations resulted in a less tense environment outside the clinic.  They said that after the protestors got to understand a little more about what motivated the clinic workers and the mindset of the women, the protestors were inclined to be less “angry.”

The fact is that activists on this controversial issue, and that includes abortion clinic staff, are usually pretty myopic when it comes to listening to arguments from the other side.   They usually just listen to their leaders of their own movements, cite their studies, and regurgitate their talking points.  They think that the other side could not possibly have anything meaningful to say, that they are all just out to lunch.  So, both sides stick their heads in the sand, become intractable and, as a consequence, the tensions increase.

But because of the bravery of some people on both sides of the issue, peace broke out years ago at some of the clinics that slowed abortion providers and protestors to continue their work in a less-than-hostile environment.

In that regard, I think “Common Ground” worked.

In the mid-1990’s, as a staff person for the National Coalition of Abortion Providers, I met a young, affable man named Guy Condon.  Guy was the Executive Director of Care Net, a chain of anti-abortion “crisis pregnancy centers” that were located in all parts of the country.

Yes, Guy was the enemy.

And, about a year later, his wife reserved for me a space in the front pew at their church for his funeral service.

Guy and I met as part of a national effort called “Common Ground,” a well-funded organization that brought together adversaries on controversial topics in the hopes of reaching a mutual understanding or, in rare cases, agreement, on certain issues.   In my case, I was asked to join a group of three pro-choicers and three pro-lifers around a table to talk once a month.   As you can imagine, the meetings were very tense at first, as the years and years of hatred made it difficult to trust the process or to not think you were being set up.  Still, I basically trust people so I jumped right in.  From the beginning, I shocked everyone (including my “side”) by candidly addressing the tough issues on abortion (as I do in this blog on a regular basis).  Guy reacted well to my approach and he followed suit.

We continued our conversations over the phone, on line, in separately arranged lunches.  He admitted to me that he was very concerned that some of the other crisis pregnancy centers were luring women into their facilities under false pretenses or giving them incorrect information.  He invited me to visit his centers, which I did, and, unless they were very clever, I got the clear sense that these folks really just wanted to help women in their time of need.  And the help that they offered extended after the women decided to have a child in the form of job counseling, computer training, day care at reduced fees, etc.  Sure, they couldn’t take care of the kid from cradle to grave, but at least they were trying to help.

Meanwhile, I talked to Guy about our clinics, about why women came to us, their decision making process, what motivated our doctors to provide abortions.  Eventually, after months of conversations, he told me that he wanted to write an article for “Christianity Today” about our relationship and asked my permission, which I readily gave.  I didn’t even ask him what he was going to write, I trusted him that much.  Still, he volunteered that he wanted to convey how I had made him understand more about the abortion process and the women who were in that difficult situation.

Two days later, Guy Condon was killed in a car accident, leaving behind three beautiful girls and his wife.

When I heard the news, I was stunned.  I was equally shocked when I got a call from Guy’s assistant  who invited me to his funeral.  I struggled for a day, knowing that if I went I would be surely going into some kind of “lion’s den” of pro-life leaders.  And what would my pro-choice colleagues think when they heard I had attended the funeral?   Surely, I could not explain to all of them that we had been friends.  Ultimately, however, I decided our friendship came first, not the politics of abortion, so that Saturday morning, I drove out to Manassas to the funeral.

As I entered the church and looked around, it felt like I had entered the National Right to Life Annual Meeting.  I quickly noticed Joe Scheidler, one of the founders of the protest movement, and Father Frank Pavone, the head of Priests for Life.  I didn’t know what to do or where to go, how to act, whether or not to make eye contact.   Ultimately, however, someone rescued me and escorted me through the crowd to the front pew.  I was dizzy, I felt all of those eyes on me and I started to wonder if I had done the right thing.

After the ceremony, a reception line formed and I got in line, trying to think of what I would say to his wife.  When I got up to her and extended my hand, I stumbled.   “Hi, my name is Pat Richards and I knew Guy…”   Before I could explain my relationship with Guy, his wife hugged me and said “Oh, Pat, he talked about you all the time!”   I started to cry.   I am almost in tears at this very moment thinking of her gracious welcome.  Then, I shook the hands of his three children and one of them said “My Daddy said you were very funny.”   I totally lost it.

I made it to the punch and cookies table and was surrounded by the pro-life movement.  They were all thanking me for coming, but I didn’t know them and  couldn’t trust them.  But I trusted Guy and that’s why I was there.  I practically ran outside to my car and broke down.

Almost one year ago, Doctor George Tiller was murdered in Wichita, Kansas.  This event garnered national headlines and this week pro-choice groups are honoring his memory.   I knew George Tiller well and have already expressed my thoughts about him (see above).    But a few months after he was killed, another pro-choice leader died and her death did not attract as much attention as Doctor Tiller’s murder.   Her name was Susan Hill.

The first time I saw Susan Hill was at a meeting of the Board of Directors of the National Abortion Rights Action League.  When she walked into a room, she literally lit up the place.  A vivacious blond with a warm southern accent, she could charm the heck out of you.  But if you crossed her, she could cut your lungs out.

Susan was the owner of several abortion clinics scattered throughout the country.  For the most part, she placed her clinics in areas where women needed access to abortion services, places like Fargo, North Dakota, Fort Wayne, Indiana and Jackson, Mississippi.  Ultimately, because they were so isolated, these clinics became the target of very intense anti-abortion activity.  I still have a picture in my mind of Susan,  in high heels and short skirt, standing defiantly in front of the doorway of her Fort Wayne clinic facing hundreds of protestors who were blocking access to her clinic.  Meanwhile, her clinic in Fargo was regularly covered in the national press because of the constant protests, death threats, bombings and other forms of harassment.

Years after I met her at NARAL, she asked me if I would help form the National Coalition of Abortion Providers.  Her reasoning was that, while there were other pro-choice groups in Washington, D.C., the abortion providers needed their own person on Capitol Hill representing their particular interests.  As she often said to me, “the groups are great at defending ‘choice,’ but when it comes to abortion they disappear pretty quickly.”

Working through NCAP, Susan and several other key abortion providers helped pass the first federal law protecting doctors, staff and women seeking access to abortion.  Indeed, when President Clinton signed the Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act into law, she was there.   When the bullets started flying,  Susan bravely became a face of the providers, never shying away from going on a television show to talk (proudly) about what she did for a living.   She testified before the Congress, she met with the Attorney General to demand protection for her and her colleagues, and she put her money where her mouth was, always ready to make a contribution to a pro-choice cause.

She had one of the finest political minds of anyone I’ve ever met.  But we wouldn’t just talk about politics.  We talked about baseball (she was once married to a professional player), movies, books and even our love lives.  She was a brilliant strategist and an above average golfer.  And she could demonstrate a heart of gold.  When my father died a few days before Easter, I drove down to Myrtle Beach for the ceremony and stopped at her house on the way back home.  Knowing I had been preoccupied over the last few days, she presented me with two Easter baskets for my young boys.

About twenty years ago, her twin sister, Nancy, died of breast cancer.  It was a terrible experience for Susan and she literally disappeared for two years helping Nancy through the ordeal.  Then, about two years ago, I got the horrible news that Susan had contracted the same deadly disease.  Unfortunately, she cut off all communication with her friends for fear that the anti-abortion movement would find out that she was dying and try to exploit the situation.  As far as I know, they never found out.   Unfortunately, that meant that I never got the chance to say goodbye to my dear old friend.

Goodbye, my friend.

One of my dearest friends in the world is Doctor Leroy Carhart.  Doctor Carhart is a physician who performs abortions in the tiny hamlet of Bellevue, Nebraska.   He has been doing abortions for decades – and, I should add, he has been doing late term abortions over those years.  In the last ten years or so, he became an outspoken advocate for abortion rights and, in fact, years ago he challenged the “Partial Birth Abortion Act,” a case that ultimately made it all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

In addition to working in Nebraska, for years Doctor Carhart had been traveling to Wichita, Kansas where he helped out Doctor George Tiller, a specialist in very late term abortions.  As we all know by now, Doctor Tiller was murdered almost one year ago and soon thereafter, his clinic – his beautiful clinic – was shut down.

But Lee Carhart came to the rescue.   Within hours of the murder, he was proudly announcing to the media that he would take over the late term abortion doctor mantle in order to help all of those women who normally would have gone to Doctor Tiller.  He was all over the media, he started giving more speeches, and he pumped up his website.  For good reason, he was applauded for his courage and his loyalty to his dear, departed friend.

A few weeks after Doctor Tiller’s murder, I caught up with Lee at a memorial service in Washington, D.C.  He shared some wonderful thoughts with the crowd and afterwards I was escorted to a private room to see him.  It had been years, so we had a good hug, a few tears were shed and then I looked him directly in the eye and said “Lee, shut the hell up.”

He was incredulous.  For years, working through the National Coalition of Abortion Providers, I encouraged him (and his colleagues) to speak openly about what he did, to no longer hide in the shadows anymore.   My argument was that if abortion doctors were open about what they did and talked honestly about their work, then it would prevent the anti-abortion movement from filling in the information gap with their own distorted interpretation of things.  So, Lee started talking – and talking and talking.  Ultimately, he became one of our leading spokesmen.

But now I was telling him to shut up.

“Lee,” I said as I put my hands on his shoulders, “you now have a lot of patients that are relying on you.  You need to be here for them.  But when you go on television, you’re making yourself a target for some nut ball out there who might get the notion of taking out the next George Tiller.”

He was a little stunned at first and, as he often does, he started mumbling about how he understood what I was saying but….

“But what?” I screamed.  “You’ve got an obligation to thousands of women and to George Tiller.  You need to be there every day for your patients.   You cannot go around making speeches everywhere, walking through crowds.  You’re gonna get yourself shot, Lee, and I don’t want to have to come to another memorial service.”

He listened but I don’t think he heard me.

And yesterday I saw an announcement that he will be speaking at the national conference for the National Organization for Women in Boston in a few weeks.

Oh well…..Go get ’em, Lee.

« Previous PageNext Page »