Feature Story: Abortion Clinic Protest

Written April, 2002.

 

            Outside the Planned Parenthood clinic in Brookline, a suburb of Boston, a large crowd is gathered.  From a distance, it’s impossible to tell what’s going on.  As I get closer, it seems as if it’s a celebration.  I can hear talking, laughing, praying and shouting.  Kids are running around smiling and joking.  Only when I get closer does it become obvious that this is a protest.

 

The clinic itself is two storeys high, with a sheet of metal bolted to part of the outside wall.  The words “Planned Parenthood” protrude from the metal sheet.  On the ground in front of the door, a large semi circle is drawn.  By law, no protestors are allowed to cross the line.  A half dozen Planned Parenthood volunteers stand around in blue pinnies, waiting to escort anyone who needs to get past the protestors and into the clinic.  Despite the warm Saturday weather, the sky is blanketed with clouds, as if reflecting the mood of some of the escorts.  It’s a nice day for a protest.  The praying, which I heard as I approached, is being broadcast from a loud speaker.  Metal rails have been put up on both sides of the praying protestors.  The rails, which look just like the ones used at carnivals, make it seem as if the protestors are waiting in line for some kind of ride.  In this case however, the only thing the line leads to is a small elevated platform with a microphone, a large cross and an even larger picture of the Virgin Mary.  The rails seem to act as walls for this makeshift chapel which houses about 65 people, all of whom look similar.  Of the people present, most are white, male, and over the age of 55.  Many have mustaches and wear conservative-looking sweaters with no logos.

 

Suddenly, a few beams of light break through the clouds.  The light does not shine brightly on the protestors in prayer as one might expect after seeing enough movies or stained glass paintings from churches.  The light misses the protestors almost entirely in fact.  The light seems to illuminate parts of the sidewalk, shining on nothing in particular.

 

While the mass of praying protestors is the first thing that catches my eye, I soon notice that they are not the only ones outside the clinic.  Standing directly in front of the drawn semi-circle are people holding signs and different sorts of props, such as a box containing small plastic models of a fetus at different stages of development.  The message on these signs are very clear.  “Face it, abortion kills” reads one sign.  Another sign reads “Stop All Abortion.”  While the protestors in prayer seem to be mostly older men, the ones with signs and props are almost all women.  A few small children appear to be the sons and daughters of the protestors.  A small boy stands beside his mother holding a large picture of Jesus, a bored expression on his face.

 

These are not the only protestors in front of the clinic, however.  Right beside the ‘chapel’ is another column of metal rails.  These enclose 10 people carrying signs that say “Abortion is legal, get over it!”  These counter-protestors are different in just about every way from their pro-life counterparts.  Most look to be in their twenties and are dressed in jeans.  Despite their small numbers, they make enough noise to compete with the praying on the loud speaker.  Shouts of “Three Cheers for the Escorts!” matches the volume of the amplified praying.

 

            As I stand against the clinic wall watching the two groups of protestors, a man with long dark hair and a blue jacket walks up to me.  “So, which group are you with?” he asks with a smile.  After telling him that I’m with neither group, he tells me his name is Jonathan (he didn’t want to give his last name) and that he is a local pro-choice activist.  Jonathan explains that the anti-abortion protestors come everyday, but that every two weeks or so, a large crowd arrives and holds a prayer service. “They can be incredibly intrusive and obnoxious [to the Planned Parenthood patients],” he says loudly as the pro-life protestors almost drown him out with a loud rendition of “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”  The next set of prayers is read by a teenage girl, the only teen pro-life protestor visible in the crowd and the only female between the metal rails.  She’s pretty with rosy cheeks and brown hair held in a ponytail.

 

            Jonathan goes on to imply that the pro-life movement in Boston has connections to people in government, which allows them to act more aggressively at protests than they should be allowed by law.  He then motions to the large crowd in front of us, describing how they used to be much wilder and larger, sometimes reaching 200 people.  “John Salvi started in one of these protest groups before the clinics merged,” he says darkly (see sidebar below).  The Planned Parenthood clinic is the result of a merger between two smaller clinics, both of which had been in the Brookline area.  It was at both of these abortion clinics that Salvi had opened fire on workers, killing two and wounding five, eight years ago.

 

            A sudden commotion from the protestors draws my attention to the escorts who are now walking a woman to the clinic door.  The girl who’d been leading the prayer service a moment ago runs after the woman yelling, “Please don’t do this, Mother!  Don’t let them kill your baby!”  At the same time, other pro-life protestors immediately move in on the woman but stop when they reach the drawn semi-circle.  As soon as the woman is through the doors of the clinic, the protestors withdraw to their previous positions, like movie extras returning to their cues.

 

            As Jonathan goes off to talk with one of the clinic escorts, I hear the counter protestors begin chanting, “Shut up!  Shut up!  Go home!  Go home!  Leave this clinic and women alone!” In response, a mother and her three children begin to shout a prayer to Mary.  The counter-protestors return fire with another round of “Three cheers for the escorts.”  Despite the shouting, the men gathered in prayer don’t waiver.

 

            “Are you a student?”  someone asks me.  I turn and see a man in his late fifties emerge from the mass of praying protestors to talk to me.  Had he not left the crowd, I would not have been able to distinguish him from any of the other protestors in the ‘chapel’.  He is wearing what looks like a wool sweater and has a brown mustache.  He is soft spoken, saying his name is Andrew Olsen.  When he hears I’m a journalism student, he becomes excited.

 

            “They don’t put abortion on television or in the papers.  They don’t show what it is. […] I think the bias of the media and the government is not for pro-life, but for the abortionists,” Olsen says sadly, in complete contradiction to what Jonathan had told me earlier.  He believes this problem could easily be solved if more people were educated about abortion.  Even though education is necessary, Olsen still feels that “God instills right and wrong in everyone’s heart and soul.  I believe that everyone is born good and for one reason or another, [some people] tend to go worldly ways instead of moral ones,” Olsen says softly.  He firmly believes all abortion clinics have a large turnover of workers every few weeks.  “I believe it gets to them after awhile and they leave,” he says.

 

            As the protestors and counter-protestors begin to disperse for the day, Olsen takes a small stack of pamphlets and hands them to me.  The pamphlets contain everything from pro-life slogans, to ads for adoption clinics as an alternative to abortion.  He then tells me support for abortions really peaked in the mid 80s.  “They’re on the decline now and I think most of the killing centers have closed,” he says, not mentioning how it is he came by this knowledge.  After wishing me a good day, he heads off.  It soon approaches noontime and the protesters slowly begin to depart.  Some pro-life protestors remain behind however, planning to stay for the rest of the day.

 

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Side Bar: John Salvi

 

            It sounds ridiculous that a member of a group called “pro-life” would willingly kill another person, but on December 30, 1994, that is exactly what John Salvi did.  Salvi, a devout 24-year-old Catholic and pro-life supporter, opened fire on two abortion clinics in Brookline, killing Shannon Lowney, 25, and Lee Ann Nichols, 38, as well as wounding five others.  Salvi was caught by police the next day when he opened fire on yet another clinic in Norfolk, Virginia.

 

Despite his lawyer’s attempts to prove him insane, Salvi was convicted on two counts of first-degree murder and five counts of armed assault with intent to murder by a jury in Alexandria, Virginia on March 19, 1996.  Salvi was ordered to serve two consecutive life terms, followed by 18 to 20 years for assault.

 

Before the attack, Salvi purchased a .22-caliber Sturm Ruger semiautomatic rifle.  Near his home in Hampton, N.H., Salvi purchased 1,000 hollow-tip bullets, which are designed to maximize injuries to human targets.  According to witnesses, during the attack, Salvi shouted "This is what you get! You should pray the rosary!" as he pumped 10 bullets into Nichols.

 

Salvi is currently in Virginia State Prison where he has no chance for parole.

 

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