A Book of American Martyrs(55)

Visitors to the clinic had to run the gauntlet of these ardent Christian protesters who were supposed to keep at least seven feet away from them but who often surged forward when a girl or a woman arrived, screaming at her. Girls and women seeking birth control. Girls and women seeking appointments to have abortions. Girls and women scheduled for abortions and very frightened.

Don’t kill your baby! God loves your baby! God loves YOU!

The clinic provided volunteer escorts to help visitors make their way inside. Sometimes, the volunteer escorts were involved in shouting/shoving matches with the most ardent of the protesters.

Murderer! Baby killer! You will rot in Hell.

But by late afternoon the protesters began to melt away. By dusk all were gone. Their greatest vigilance was during the daylight hours.

And so, at dusk, this girl/woman waiting for Dr. Voorhees at the rear of the clinic was alone. In her apprehension and indecision and in her terror waiting to see the notorious Voorhees who was (as she knew) of the Devil. Because she was desperate now. Because it was happening to her now. Because now it wasn’t someone else’s desperation but her own. Summoning her strength and courage to speak with this man so reviled and hated she would find herself pleading like a child Please—please help me and the doctor’s reply was sympathetic but regretful You will have to come to the clinic during our hours, you will have to speak with our nurse-receptionist, I am so sorry please understand there is nothing that I can do for you tonight.

And the protesting voice But you could! You could, Dr. Voorhees! I know you could.

I’m sorry. I can’t.

You could! You could!—incredulous that the very Devil would not capitulate to her, in the committing of this enormous sin.

Only just the tired-sounding man who was Gus Voorhees for whom she and her Christian comrades had prayed for months even as (they supposed) he was beyond praying for saying Would you like to give me your name? A number where you could be reached?

No! No.

In despair hiding her face. For she could not reveal her name to him, she dared not. And she could not risk giving him a number, for a phone shared by others. Until finally Voorhees relented, in pity of the distraught girl/woman he relented saying Come back tomorrow at this time. Someone will see you, and examine you. And then we’ll proceed—maybe. After-hours. I’ll be here. All right?


THESE WERE DEVOUT CHRISTIAN women and girls who did not “believe” in abortion. They’d been instructed by their elders to consider abortion a terrible sin—the “slaughter of the innocents.” They would not alter their beliefs (usually) except just this single time for they knew (they prayed) that God would forgive and God would understand. Jesus would forgive and understand. Because there is nowhere else to turn in such desperation except the Devil’s party Voorhees the Baby Killer.

Because I can’t let anyone know that I am pregnant, Dr. Voorhees.

Because they would hate me forever. They would never forgive me for shaming them.

Because I am not able to have this baby. Because I am not well . . . I am out of breath and there is a pain in my chest, sometimes I think that I will faint. There is diabetes in our family, I am afraid to have a blood test.

I have never been to any hospital. No one in our family has.

We do not believe in blood transplants—is that what they are called?—we do not believe.

Because I am too old. I have had my babies, I can’t have any more I think I will die. I am so tired.

Because I will lose my job. Because I can’t commute ninety minutes a day if I am pregnant, if I have another baby I will lose my job. I can’t afford to lose my job I will be evicted.

Because the father is gone. Because he is not coming back.

Because the father would kill me, if he knew.

Because the father is married.

Because the father has too many children already.

Because the father would deny it, he would say that I am lying.

Because the father would say that it was my fault, that I came to him . . .

Because my parents would be disgusted. Because my father would never speak to me again so ashamed in the eyes of the church and our neighbors.

Because I am too young. Because I want to finish school.

Because girls who had babies who had to get married did not finish school and are not happy now. I know some of these girls . . .

Because I don’t know how this happened. I did not want it to happen.

Because it is the same man as with my sister. Because he is engaged to my sister. Because my sister cannot know!

Because it is a secret, he said he would strangle me if I told.

Because I tried to do it to myself, with an ice pick. But I was too afraid, I could not.

Because I hit myself with my fists in the stomach. Because I was sick to my stomach vomiting and choking but that was all.

Because there is no hope for me, if you do not help me.

Because he is so old.

Because he is too young.

Because he went away into the Army. He could not come home.

Because he lives right next-door. We would see him all the time and his family would see us.

Because they would not believe me anyway if I told his name.

Because they would believe him.

Because one other time it happened, a girl from our church said it was him but no one believed her, everyone was disgusted with her and her family and they had to move away.

Because I did not want to be with him in such a way but he made me to prove that I loved him. Because if I tell, he will never love me again.