TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/090991/0909102.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 5.6 KB | 122 lines

                                                                                NATION, Page 19

ABORTION

Whose Side Are You On?


For weary Wichitans, the protests may finally be subsiding, but
the healing has yet to begin

By JON D. HULL/WICHITA


    Before Operation Rescue came to town in mid-July, Linda
Barber and her brother Rick Middleton hardly ever talked about
abortion. Now they hardly ever talk. Rick, 39, enlisted with the
pro-life forces and was twice arrested for trying to shut down
one of the city's three abortion clinics. Linda, 35, volunteered
to escort the terrified female patients past the demonstrators.
"I had no clue she was pro-choice," says Rick. "The
relationship in our family is definitely strained." Linda is
less polite. "I feel he's in bed with a bunch of criminals," she
says. "I can't imagine spending this Christmas together."

    Just about every bar, restaurant and dining room table in
Wichita has played reluctant host to an impassioned debate on
abortion this summer. "It's going to take some time to regain
a center of gravity," says Mayor Bob Knight, displaying a 6-in.
stack of angry letters on his desk. "The passions and feelings
are so deep, and the city of Wichita has been criticized by
everybody."

    City officials were relieved last week as the number of
protesters dropped dramatically, after weekend rallies that drew
at least 25,000 pro-lifers and 6,000 pro-choicers from across
the country. Though shock troops on both sides are exhausted,
following 2,600 arrests and countless screaming matches, tempers
remain high. "The lines are drawn in offices and factory
plants," says the Rev. George Gardner of College Hill United
Methodist Church. Jane Gilchrist, a leading pro-choice activist,
complains, "You can't go to the grocery store, church or the
barbershop without talking about it."

    At a proudly counterculture bar called Kirby's, blatant
pro-lifers are likely to be booted from the premises. Elsewhere,
pro-choicers face similar hazards. "I've been elbowed, stepped
on, spit on and called Satan's mistress," says Marina Clemente,
26, who unwittingly entered a pro-life sandwich shop and found
herself "verbally abused" by 20 patrons once she revealed her
views. Others have been drawn closer together. "This is about
the only thing my mother-in-law and I agree on," says Patricia
Beltz, 36, as she waves a pro-choice placard in front of one of
the clinics.

    Before July 15, most residents were preoccupied with
rising property taxes, gang violence and renewed efforts to ban
nude dancing. Civic boosters lauded themselves for snaring two
Miss U.S.A. pageants in a row. But all the factors that make
Wichita a nice place to raise a family -- its manageable size,
heartland values and high standards of civility -- also proved
irresistible to out-of-state Operation Rescue activists. Though
largely pro-choice, Wichita contains all the ingredients for
staging a militant morality play on abortion. Says Steve Smith,
assistant managing editor of the Wichita Eagle: ``We're on the
fringes of the Bible Belt; we have a strong evangelical
presence, a pro-life Governor and an arguably pro-life mayor."
More important, Wichita is home to the Women's Health Care
Services clinic, where George Tiller is one of a handful of U.S.
physicians known to perform late-term abortions.

    Tiller, who wears a bulletproof vest to work and checks
his car for bombs every morning, has emerged as a hero to the
pro-choice movement, refusing to be intimidated by protesters
and death threats. To pro-lifers, he is a modern-day Mengele.
Says Paula Winter, a "sidewalk counselor" who tries to dissuade
patients from entering the clinic: "He kills 10 to 20 babies a
week in his `abortuary' and then puts them into his incinerator
and burns them."

    Along the thoroughfare that adjoins Tiller's clinic, a
dozen pro-lifers and half as many pro-choicers petition
passersby with wrenching pictures and alarming slogans.
Commuters honk to register their vote -- or throw cans, bottles
and even bags of urine. Says Mayor Knight: "People who in my
wildest dreams would never protest -- much less put themselves
in a position to be arrested -- have done just that." The
abortion debate has a way of inducing indignation even among the
timid and indecisive. "I came out of the closet a week ago,"
says pro-choicer Paul Wilson, 75. "The silent majority is sick
and tired of this invasion by outsiders."

    The battle lines are riddled with ironies. Pro-lifers,
usually from law-and-order backgrounds, rage against police
brutality (of which there has been little so far). Pro-choicers,
including avowed lefties, complain that the police are going
easy on the opposition. Both sides have formed local subgroups
of Republicans, Democrats and religious leaders to endorse their
cause.

    While everybody is claiming victory, Operation Rescue's
tactics appear to have backfired. In a poll published Aug. 11
by the Wichita Eagle, nearly 80% of respondents opposed the
group's methods. The same number said the protests had no impact
on their views on abortion, while 15% said they now felt more
inclined to support abortion rights, and less than 8% felt more
supportive of abortion restrictions.

    Wichita will have an easier time recouping its national
reputation than repairing its internal divisions. "I think there
are some people so inflamed that they won't cool down for a
lifetime," says the Rev. Jack Middleton of Wichita Bible Church.
Middleton's own healing process begins at home, as he tries to
get his children Linda and Rick back on speaking terms in time
for Christmas.