Cherry Bomb The Anti-Abortion Legislation?
Remembering The Summer Of Mercy In 1991 In Wichita, Kansas
This is the story of my recollection of the Summer of Mercy in Wichita, Kansas, where I grew up. I felt it was important to share this story because I fear with the new anti-abortion legislation, we are going to repeat history on this divided topic.
I grew up in Wichita, Kansas. In 1991 my city was under siege by the anti-abortion group, Operation Rescue. Wichita became famous for a moment that year because Phil Donahue showed up and filmed a town hall-style episode of his show about the anti-abortion protests.
Why Wichita?
I will start with a brief history to explain why this happened in a small-size town in the middle of the country. Wichita was targeted by an anti-abortion group, Operation Rescue because of the result of a ruling by the Attorney General at that time. In 1991 the state legislature would permit local governments to pass restrictive abortion legislation as long as these local laws did not directly contradict the parameters outlined in Roe v. Wade. A city ordinance was voted on that was designed to make Wichita the first local government in the country to employ a local option strategy for eroding reproductive choice. Despite the 3-4 defeat of this local legislation, the defeat occurred in the context of the well-publicized campaign by the current Governor at that time, who had declared herself as a "pro-life, pro-woman" candidate.
It has never been confirmed but many believe that Operation Rescue was invited to Wichita by anti-choice political leaders and possibly the current Governor.
Protestors or Criminals?
I was 22 years old in 1991 and I remember these protestors and all the havoc they created in our city for an entire summer. It cost Wichita a great deal of money in additional policing and criminal cases that followed for many years after. Yes, criminal cases that the taxpayers of Wichita financed, crimes that distracted our legal court officials from other more important local cases, and continued to leave behind a trail of hate, division, and loss.
Many locals in Wichita did not know these people. Most came from somewhere else. However, some were citizens of our own local community that turned into zealot versions of themselves that I did not recognize. I worked with these people and before that summer we never talked about politics, religion, and certainly not abortion. I could not even tell you if the receptionist that worked in my office was pro-choice or against abortion. Nor did I care. I respected whatever my friends, family, co-workers, and fellow Wichitans wanted to support based on their own personal beliefs, as long as they did not impose their beliefs on me.
We got along fine . . . until that summer.
I remember vividly my own personal loathing of those anti-abortion protestors and their clinic blockade demonstrations that went on for 46 days that summer. They were people who gathered in our city in front of abortion clinics with the right to protest and a goal to prevent abortions, to prevent women from entering the clinics, and to stand their ground for their cause. What many do not know, is that they failed humanity during their time in Wichita. They forgot what it meant to be human and showed no compassion, and absolutely no mercy.
The protesters were violent, awful, and hateful. They spread hatred. They committed terrible actions toward others daily. My young friends and I witnessed much of it. They called women all kinds of names, "Daughter of Satan"- and that was one of the milder insults, toward those that were going into the clinics. They humiliated women. They carried giant magnified photos of mutilated fetuses. They yelled racial insults at black and Jewish women. Yes, I heard these insults on more than one drive-by of the clinics in my city. They lied. They lied about the facts about abortion, all in an effort to promote their cause. They gave the citizens of Wichita the finger as they drove by the clinics- regular locals on their way to work, school, and even other Christians on their way to church.
Mothers shoved their children in front of cars and used their own daughters as pawns in their righteous-by-any-means-necessary campaign. Who does that? I remember thinking what kind of a parent uses their own children in their own moral campaign? We had to have federal marshals come to our city to help keep the peace.
I know of two co-workers who later ended up in court over their actions at these protests. They indeed broke laws but more importantly, they created civil unrest in our city. One of my co-workers, who participated in the protests, actually bragged about spitting at people. It did not end well for her. She went to jail for assault and was fired from her job. Thank you, boss. She was not popular in our office. The other co-worker had to do community service and she never disclosed why or what she did that warranted this punishment but I do know that she brought her very young children to several of the protests. It made me sad to think of children witnessing and participating in these appalling criminal actions.
Most of the charges against minors were entirely dropped, however, their parents were not so lucky. Some received reduced sentences or hours of community service. Some violent offenders went to jail. Still, those who came from somewhere else and were charged with a crime had to return to our city and courts for their trials. This cost them time, money, and surely in some cases, their jobs.
Caught Up In The Hatred
My story begins with my own lack of humanity. It would not be a full story if I said that what I did was out of anger, full of resentment for these people that had come from all over the country to put my city under siege.
It started with a random Sunday with four friends. Indeed, bad choices that ended up as a childish prank- of sorts. We were fed up and wanted to show those protestors how we really felt about them. We wanted them out of our city and we wanted to send them a clear message. The plan started with three of my friends discussing things we could do. We debated several actions and things we could do and ended up with a stupid idea. The dumb plan was to drive by one of the clinics and throw something at the pro-life protesters. What could we throw? We decided it could not be heavy or harm them. Wiffle balls, styrofoam balls, fruit? YES- fruit! Grapes? NO, it had to be cherries- because they stain. They stained our city, so we were going to stain them.
We drove to Dillons, our local grocery store chain, and each of us bought our own bundle of cherries. We purposely bought the ones that were pushed to the back of the cherry section- they were mushy, runny, and bleeding red. There were four of us and one friend who drove the car. We picked a clinic that we knew we could drive by quickly but would be able to reach the protestors from the street and then escape quickly. I do remember on the way, driving to the clinic, we agreed not to aim at anyone's face, at the cops/marshals, kids, or any handicapped protestors but everyone else was a target. Not an entirely mature plan, still the weight of what we were going to do was heavy.
So we did it. Not once, but many times. I remember the first drive-by, I was so nervous. I think my first few cherry bombs- that's what we called them, landed on the ground. The next drive-by, I threw a lot harder but only enough to get the needed distance to land on a few of the protestor's legs. We yelled, "GO HOME", and "GET OUT OF OUR CITY" as we threw them. I remember on one of several drive-bys, a cop standing near, actually, looked right at me. He gave me a smirk expression with a slight head nod. As if to communicate that he did not approve, but that he was not coming for us. So we got bolder and on subsequent drive-by's we threw handfuls of cherries. Not sure how many times total we drove by but I do remember we did not have any cherries left and the protestors looked like a polka-dotted mess on the last run. I felt joy.
Regret and Mercy
As an adult, remembering this now I feel shame. I let the ugly actions of some hateful protestors, of criminals, visiting our city, influence me. What would make me want to act like them? Bring me to act and feel hatred toward others? I am responsible for my own actions.
I showed them no mercy.
Today, I would advise young, current pro-choice supporters attending protest rallies to be better, to do better. I have hope that intelligent women now will find a better political means to fight back- not only for their rights but for their cities that will soon be under siege in the coming years if we continue on this divisive path.