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Operation Rescue

Just skimmed the posts...haven't read all of them, so I hope my post is not redundant.

<<Thank you for your last post re:Media? Your experience parallels mine in that it is usually the member of the pro-life movement whom I have seen yelling and shouting at women attempting to enter clinics -- many of whom were going for non-abortion related matters. I also feel that picketing the homes of doctors and others in the pro-life movement is a terrible breech of privacy. I cannot but wonder what pain that must bring to the families that are picketed -- which, of course, is the intent: Coercion via terrorism.>>

I'd like to offer my own experience and perspective. A little over five years ago, a couple we are friends with became involved with Operation Rescue. Both of these people are calm, gracious, compassionate people who for years had been quietly ministering to women considering abortion or women who had already had abortions. Then another man, a godly and gentle pastor we highly respected, became part of O.R. We were surprised, puzzled, curious. Both my husband and I, at various times, went to "Rescues" to observe and take pictures.

Some of them were bedlam. I can't even begin to describe what it was like. There would be people sitting in front of the clinic, physically blocking the doors. Those people seemed fairly calm and mellow, keeping quiet for the most part, but sometimes singing. Then there were all sorts of people praying, singing, reciting the rosary, etc. I assumed most of these people were pro-life (my assumption proved to be correct) because the "pro-abortion" side were doing all sorts of stuff to disrupt their praying and singing. Men in "ACT-UP" tee-shirts were yelling, shouting, pushing, blowing loud whistles, screaming in people's ears, and chanting all sorts of slogans--some of them funny, some disgusting, some obscene. There were a number of women doing the same sort of thing. Then there were some women dressed up as Supreme Court justices brandishing bloody coat-hangers. There were one or two women dressed as witches. There were signs and banners everywhere; a few made me want to lose my lunch, quickly. (I have a real problem with the graphic pictures of aborted babies. I think they have their time and place, but being paraded around in public, in my opinion, is not the right place.)

At one point, I was assigned a bodyguard, because I was early in my pregnancy and things were getting a bit rough. We walked around the clinic. Out front there was a table of people handing out N.O.W. literature and hundreds of people milling around. Suddenly an announcement was made over the loudspeaker that a woman had managed to get into the clinic and that an abortion had been performed on her.

Suddenly everyone started yelling and cheering. Some of the women were so excited at this announcement that they were jumping up and down and hugging each other. My blood ran cold. These people were cheering an *abortion*. Even if they believed it was just a blob of tissue or whatever, they were cheering at a tragedy in a woman's life. Certainly she didn't get pregnant just to abort the child. Certainly she wasn't exactly cheering at that moment.

I guess because we were the only ones not cheering or something, we were quickly spotted as being pro-lifers. Several women circled us and began screaming in our faces, "Racist, sexist, anti-gay! Born-again bigots, go away!" At first I was scared to death. I'm easily intimidated, plus I have a vivid imagination. At that moment I was imagining the two of us being torn to shreds by an angry mob. You can believe that I began praying. Then, the humor of the whole thing struck me. My bodyguard was a Black man. Which one of us was the racist? Which one of us was the sexist? And what on earth did gays have to do with abortion? I began looking at these women and smiling. That sort of stopped them and they walked away.

I saw all sorts of stuff that day. Women being grabbed by clinic escorts in orange vests and dragged towards the clinic even if they protested, "Wait! I want to hear what these people have to say before I go in!" Boyfriends dragging in their girlfriends. Desperate women stopping to talk to one particular sidewalk counselor who looked like she was on her way to church, complete with one of the hugest Bibles I have ever seen. I also saw people pounding on car windows, screaming, "Don't kill your baby! Don't kill your baby!" I saw the people who had been blocking the clinic entrance get dragged away through horse manure while people laughed.

There was an interesting phenomena I noticed at every Rescue I ever attended. Women could be screaming at each other, pushing each other, etc. Then they would meet in a nearby public restroom and act so polite to each other, offering each other toilet paper and paper towels in the most helpful way. Then everyone would go out and scream at each other again. It was funny and weird.

I also noticed that, when I would get home and watch the TV news coverage of what I had just attended, it hardly seemed like the same event. Sometimes the people they showed screaming and identified as "anti-abortion activists" really weren't.

Several other things troubled me. Some people, men in particular, seemed to enjoy the intrigue and semi-military flavor of some of the rescues. They liked planning how to secure the clinic entrances, how to sneak past the guards, how to confuse the "other side". There were spies and counter-spies. I was afraid that the women and babies were being lost in the shuffle.

Then there was the time it started raining. A man said, "We might as well go home. Women who are taking the easy way out aren't going to come out in the rain." I was speechless. I wanted to tell him, "Look, buddy, you have no idea! Have you ever been pregnant? Have you ever been desperate, in a panic? Do you have any idea why women have abortions?"

I did some sidewalk counseling at rescues, especially when I was visibly pregnant with my third baby. Sometimes other pro-lifers would think I was at the clinic to get an abortion. No one ever screamed at me. Instead, they would reach out with compassion. One man said to me with tears in his eyes, "I just wanted to tell you. No matter what, Jesus loves you and he loves your baby."

So I saw both the good and the bad. I saw well-meaning pro-lifers who just didn't have a clue how to reach the women. I saw people on both sides get quite angry with each other. I saw some really scary police brutality, especially at one particular rescue when priests and clergymen were made the targets. (I'll never forget the sound of one woman as she recognized her own priest and began to cry, "Look what they're doing to Father....!") I saw what I can only describe as intense spiritual warfare. I also saw an incredible amount of love and compassion on the pro-life side, and I met some really gentle people. (I also met some people I thought were wackos.) A number of the women had had abortions in the past and wished that someone had been outside of the clinic they had entered. They were there now, they told me, because no one had been there for them.

And I saw women who were happy we were there...women who felt they had no other choice but abortion until someone talked to them and offered to walk along side them.

Just some of my own experience, for what it's worth...

copyright 1994 by Rebecca Prewett

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