January 2011

The good note in the beginning of that week was that, again, on Saturday morning American
Family Planning was closed.  Accordingly, four of us left AFP at about 8:30 and drove across
town to Summit.  We called ahead to tell the Summit sidewalk counselors that we were coming;
but we made it clear, in order to avoid confusion of roles,  that we would be there strictly for
prayer support.  However, we had barely arrived and begun a rosary when the Guadalupe phone
rang.  Alicia answered, had a brief conversation,  then told me we had to go.  Someone there at
the abortuary, who had decided not to go in, wanted to meet with us.  Alicia suggested the
McDonalds a few blocks away, where we then headed.

It was one of those cheerful McDonalds with the bullet-proof shield running the length of the
counter.  We sat and waited, and waited.  They never showed.  We went back to Summit, then,
where we found a scene of confusion.  As the story gradually unfolded, a granddaughter being
taken in for an abortion by her grandparents had actually resisted them just before walking
through the front door.  Her grandmother, in response, had lifted a large purse and knocked her
granddaughter to the sidewalk.  When the sidewalk counselors, for her protection, surrounded the
granddaughter, the grandparents reacted with curses and threats.  The grandfather, with a
twisted turn of thought, advanced on Patrick and accused him of having sold his people into
slavery.  Stated in a normal tone of voice, it would have been somewhat comic.  The
grandfather’s face, though, was distorted by rage.  When Patrick calmly responded that he hadn’t
been there, the grandfather yelled, “You’re white!  You did it!”

The abortuary’s “counselor” came out and took the granddaughter into her protection—more or
less guaranteeing the death of the baby.  Police came too, two squad cars, but did nothing.  On
Monday of the new week we were encouraged when the mystery couple who on Saturday had
called us from Summit called again.  We again agreed to meet, on the following day, at the same

After that, it was a long morning in the city.  We delivered two beds, one couch, diapers, groceries.  My van looked like something from the Grapes of Wrath, with a queen sized bed strapped on top and a couch sticking out of the back.  One of the mothers we visited said she would join us any time at the abortion mill.  I was surprised and encouraged to hear that.  I don’t think any of the other mothers have ever gone that far in their prolife response. 

We stopped for  short rest at Ana and Carmelo’s house.  We admired their new front door and discussed what else the house needed in order to get it ready for the winter. I learned that the upstairs windows aren’t even really installed–just propped into position, without a proper fit.

At her party was a little boy about her age.  This little boy was rescued too, rescued from an abortion mill.  These two little ones were fascinated with each other.  Kassie would play hard-to-get, waddling off across the kitchen floor.  Eddie would come after, with this big grin on his face; and when he caught her, he would give her a big hug.  All the adults were circled around this little play, watching and laughing–especially when little Eddie would raise his right hand and twitch his fingers, almost as though he were trying to snap for her attention.

And then I watched Eddie’s mother, with such joy radiating from her face, scoop him up and hold him.  Last night, those two were the party.  What would the night have been without them?

Another family group went in at 8:00.  There seemed to be a mother, a daughter, and a brother or boyfriend.  A Gabriel Richard student who had joined us for the day was in the right positin and had the presence of mind to drop one of our envelopes into the arms of  the man.  The three of them were inside the abortuary about an hour, but came out soon after the abortionist arrived.

Later in the morning we met with Chanzell, a mother we originally met at the abortion mill about two years ago.  Not long ago she was evicted and since then she and her three children  have been living in an abanoned  house.  For some reason there is electric in the house, but no water and no heat or stove.  Anne and Paul drove her around her neighborhood to see if there were any apartments legitimately for rent.

We visited our friends Ana and Carmelo.  Carmelo has been sick and has not gotten many hours at his landscaping job.  We bought them a few materials so that Carmelo could continue working on his house in order to get it ready for the cold weather.  Windows still need to be properly installed, flooring put in and rooms painted.

There was another man, older, in his late 40′s, very big and dressed in no particluar style at all.  He was definitely antagonistic.  After the abortionist had arrived, he came out to sit in his van, just as the younger man had done.  On his way across the parking lot to his van, he spoke nothing but obscenities.  However, he remained in his van only a few minutes; then the door opened, he got out and crossed the parking lot again–this time quietly, the hostility in his face gone.  He was in the abortion mill only a couple of minutes.  He came out with his wife, girlfriend, whatever she was, and they left.

Several hours later, we were still in Detroit, driving around the city visiting and delivering.  Chris, who was still at the abortion mill, called.  A Hispanic girl and her boyfriend had come to the mill to make an abortion appointment.  Chris tried to get the girl to take the phone and talk to Alicia, but she wouldn’t.  She and her boyfriend proceeded into the abortion mill.  A short time later they came out again, carrying the white appointment folder.  With her appointment set for Monday, I guess she felt less threatened  by the idea of talking to a prolifer.  This time she did agree to take the cell phone and talk to Alicia.  When the call came in, Alicia and I were in Mexican town; while Alicia talked, I took a backroad through the industrial area and got back to AFP while the girl was still standing in front of the building talking on Chris’s cell phone.  The conversation continued, then, in person.  But while the girl and her boyfriend were very friendly, it didn’t seem as though anything we said was sticking.  The girl kept insisting that this baby would take away from the little that her other children had.  She did, however, promise to stay in touch with us.

About two hours later, when we were finally on our way home, Alicia received a text message: she was keeping the baby and she was happy.  We have an appointment to see her today at 4:30.

 Prayers and intercession like this went on. My faith started to fail. I felt desperate. I remembered that Mr. Miller had told me before he left to Chicago to not get desperate, but to PRAY. I dropped to my knees. I started to pray for mercy, for strength, for the protection of the babies. I could tell the young 17 year old girl was receptive and she was gentle and scared. I prayed to God that He would save her from this; but at the same time desperation was creeping in on me: ”babies are dying and nothing is happening”,  I complained. Suddely the door of the clinic opened and the young couple came out. He was furious!.  But as they pulled away from the abortion mill, by all appearances it seemed to be a rescued baby.  And God was good enough to send us final confirmation, when on the following Monday Chris saw them come to the abortion mill to get a refund of their money.

On Saturday there were two appointments at AFP.  The numbers there remain, then, very low.  Summit, on the other hand, was ungodly busy.  A friend of ours has been researching the abortionists at Summit, Ross and Twigg.  Those details are forthcoming.

When the abortionist arrived I told him why his only customer wanted an abortion.  Would he kill a girl just because she was a girl?  He said nothing, while his wife displayed her middle finger. 

Looking at the morning from a different perspective, however, the abortionist’s business that day was cut by 50%.  His business is down to minimum staffing, and I am sure the day of its closing draws nearer.