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TIME: Almanac 1995
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1994-03-25
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<text id=93TT1249>
<title>
Mar. 22, 1993: One Doctor Down, How Many More?
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1993
Mar. 22, 1993 Can Animals Think
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
CRIME, Page 46
One Doctor Down, How Many More?
</hdr>
<body>
<p>Prey to harassment, arson and now murder, abortion clinics are
easy targets for militants
</p>
<p>By RICHARD LACAY--With reporting by Deborah Fowler/Houston,
Julie Johnson/Washington and Elaine Lafferty/Los Angeles
</p>
<p> When she heard last week that a doctor had been gunned
down outside an abortion clinic in Florida, B.J. Isaacson-Jones
was shaken--but not surprised. At the St. Louis, Missouri,
clinic where she is president, staff members always vary their
routes home from work. Mail is opened only by employees trained
by a bomb and arson squad to detect suspicious envelopes or
packages. "Those of us providing abortion services feel very
vulnerable," she says. Even more so since December 1991, when
a man in a ski mask opened fire with a sawed-off shotgun at a
clinic in Springfield, Missouri. Two people were wounded,
including the clinic's office manager, who is now paralyzed. The
gunman, who walked calmly away from the scene, has not been
apprehended.
</p>
<p> In the eyes of abortion-rights activists, the killing of
Dr. David Gunn is simply the culmination of years of violence,
vandalism and harassment against clinics all around the country.
Far from denouncing his murder as the work of a lone extremist,
some of the more militant antiabortion groups warned that more
violence was likely to follow. "What do you expect when the
government and the President do all they can to crush peaceful,
nonviolent protests?" asks the Rev. Joseph Foreman of
Missionaries to the Preborn, based in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. "We
will not be outraged over the one death and not the other 4,000
precious human beings that were killed today by abortion," he
says. Randall Terry, founder of Operation Rescue, said he
regretted the act but noted that, after all, Dr. Gunn was a
murderer of babies.
</p>
<p> The rising violence may reflect in part the sense of
stalemate among antiabortion groups. Now that the Supreme Court
has stopped short of overturning Roe v. Wade and a pro-choice
Administration rules Washington, clinic operators fear that
frustrated pro-life militants will become even more aggressive
and threatening. According to the National Abortion Federation,
a Washington-based advocacy group, in 1992 alone there were 116
cases of clinic vandalism, 12 reported incidents of arson, 9
cases of attempted arson, 5 burglaries and a bombing.
</p>
<p> This year is not shaping up any better. In Corpus Christi,
Texas, last month, arsonists burned from one of the city's
abortion clinics, along with four neighboring businesses in the
same building. A new tactic is to spray the interior of clinics
with butyric acid, a chemical that ruins carpets and
furnishings and leaves behind a revolting stench. During one
night last week, five San Diego clinics were made a stinking
mess. "It smells like rancid meat and a sewer together. It's
awful," says Ashley Phillips, whose WomanCare Clinic was one of
those attacked.
</p>
<p> Property damage, bad as it is, is not what frightens
clinic workers the most. Doctors, their staffs and families find
themselves stalked, harassed and threatened over the phone.
After he was confronted several years ago by a man who
threatened to cut off his fingers, Dr. Buck Williams, the only
doctor who provides abortions in South Dakota, got a licensed .38 revolver. He jokes grimly about it now: "I figured if I had
only one finger left, I could use it to pull the trigger." After
he learned about the Pensacola killing, Williams upgraded his
weapon to a .45.
</p>
<p> Even the children of clinic workers are targets. Lisa
Merritt is a counselor at a clinic in Melbourne, Florida. She
says that last month her 13-year-old son Justin was approached
by a woman and a teenage girl who told him they were thinking
of moving into the apartment complex where he and his mother
live. A day later, the girl phoned to ask Justin to join her at
a Burger King. The girl picked him up in a car driven by a woman
in her 30s whom she identified as a friend.
</p>
<p> At the restaurant, the pair suddenly produced a Bible and
asked Justin if he was aware that both he and his mother were
going to burn in hell. According to Merritt, they identified
themselves as members of the antiabortion group Operation Rescue
and asked the boy whether he had names of patients at his
mother's clinic. Justin refused to answer, and bolted for home.
"We're all tight as guitar strings around here," Merritt says.
"I can't believe they came after my son."
</p>
<p> Pro-life organizations were divided last week about how to
respond to Gunn's killing. Even groups that have supported
clinic blockades issued unequivocal condemnations. "To shoot and
kill a human being in the name of saving human life is
grotesque," said the Rev. Richard D. Land, who heads the
Christian Life Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention.
But more militant outfits played rhetorical games, dancing
around the crime. Don Treshman, national director of
Houston-based Rescue America--which had mounted protests at
Gunn's home--called the doctor's death "unfortunate." Then he
added, with a logic long familiar among extortionists: "This
will have a chilling effect on this business."
</p>
<p> The murder in Pensacola has already led to the resignation
of two doctors at the clinic in Melbourne. Antiabortion groups
had featured them on wanted posters similar to those that Gunn
had appeared on before his death. Clinics elsewhere are finding
themselves compelled to take expensive precautions against
attack. The Houston chapter of Planned Parenthood is spending
$100,000 on security devices for its new headquarters. Last week
their clinic in Kansas City, Kansas, hired an armed guard.
</p>
<p> After Gunn's murder, representatives from three
abortion-rights groups held a joint press conference with two
Democratic Congressmen to call for an FBI probe of the
antiabortion movement. Congress is expected to speed up action
on a bill that would make it a federal crime, punishable by up
to three years in prison, to blockade an abortion clinic. At a
meeting with the President on Thursday, members of the
Congressional Caucus for Women's Issues urged him to support
legislation that would strengthen federal antistalking laws. The
President, says Colorado Democrat Patricia Schroeder, "was fully
in agreement that this was a real crisis."
</p>
<p> A federal law protecting clinics could give stronger
authority to the FBI and other agencies to investigate attacks.
The record of state law-enforcement efforts so far has been
mixed. In the 28 cases of arson and fire bombings against
clinics from 1990 to 1992, only one suspect has been arrested.
Earlier this month, representatives of the Feminist Majority
Foundation met with Florida attorney general Robert Butterworth.
Katherine Spillar, national coordinator for the foundation, says
he refused their request to seek a state court injunction that
would keep protesters away from clinics.
</p>
<p> "We've been warning them for weeks that something like
this was going to happen, but they just won't listen," Spillar
complains. "They say it's a local law-enforcement issue. We know
that's not true. We've had cooperation from the offices of the
attorneys general of Texas and New York when these kinds of
things started."
</p>
<p> Meanwhile, clinics are bracing themselves for another
season of assaults. Melbourne is now the site of a 12-week
training camp, organized by Operation Rescue, where about 25 men
are learning tactics for blockades. Pro-choice activists who
are monitoring the group contend that the men are also being
instructed in how to stalk and harass. The convergence of
pro-life forces has placed great strain on the area's sole
abortion clinic, where about 30 protesters have been picketing
for the past month. Merritt, the clinic counselor whose son was
harassed, says when the murder of the doctor was announced to
the protesters, they took up a chant: "One down! How many more?"
That same question is now on the minds of many others.
</p>
</body>
</article>
</text>