By Chris Slattery,
EMC Frontline Pregnancy Care Monday, February 21st,
2011

My wife Eileen and I mourn the death of our dear friend and mentor,
Dr. Bernard Nathanson. I met Bernie in late 1970s, when I was a young
salesman in the magazine industry. after he’d published his first
book, Aborting America.

I got to know him at talks at Human Life International, before he
released his first, earth-shaking film, The Silent Scream. He
explained the sinister and deceptive way in which abortion had been
legalized by lies and manipulation. I could see how much difference
one man could make. He got me angry, and motivated me to dedicate my
life to this cause.

When Bernie and his partners founded NARAL–the National Association
for the Repeal of Abortion Laws–and set out to legalize abortion,
they were lionized at first by the media. They coddled the press with
lies and exaggerations. In 1972, the year before Roe vs. Wade, the
Centers for Disease Control reported that there were 39 deaths from
illegal abortions. But Bernie simply made up the figure of “5,000 to
10,000 per year,” and the press bought it.

He estimated that through the abortion clinic he and his partners
founded in Manhattan, the Center for Reproductive and Sexual Health
(CRASH), he was responsible for the deaths of 60,000 children. But
with the development of ultrasound in the 1970s, Bernie began to
realize what he had been doing. He changed his mind about abortion and
set out to do whatever he could, by speaking, writing, and making
films, to right the wrong he had done. The same media and opinion-
makers who had praised him now attacked him as an opportunist, a
quack, and an eccentric.

He wouldn’t be stopped. His three books and three films became the
primary tools of many pro-life activists. I can tell you that over the
years, his films alone had a huge impact on expectant mothers, and
saved the lives of tens of thousands of children in our EMC FrontLine
Pregnancy Centers and elsewhere.

He went back to school, getting a degree in bioethics from Vanderbilt
University in 1996. He became an expert witness before legislatures
and juries, using his authoritative voice to teach the uninformed
about the reality of life in the womb and the deceptions of the
abortion industry. He is a featured speaker in the current film about
that industry, Blood Money.

He became a consultant to us when we opened our first pregnancy center
in Manhattan on East 23rd Street and he helped provide pre-natal care
to our moms, and he did a fund-raiser for us in his townhouse in
Chelsea, and spoke for us elsewhere. He also helped with my wife’s own
pre-natal care when Eileen had a difficult pregnancy with our third
child, Brigid.

After he renounced abortion, Bernie was still not a religious man. He
described it as a seminal moment in his awakening when he and I next
to each were among hundreds of pro-lifers dragged away from the
doorways of Planned Parenthood on E 22nd Street, and Second Avenue in
Manhattan. On that cold January morning in 1989, with Operation Rescue
we helped shut down seven abortion mills in New York. Planned
Parenthood, his former ally, sued us and about 6 other rescue leaders
in Federal court.

Bernie carried a very heavy burden of guilt for his crimes. He began
talking with Fr. C. John McCloskey of the Prelature of Opus Dei, and
read a great many excellent spiritual books at his suggestion. Then
the man who in the 1960s had fought to destroy the reputation and
influence of the Church now asked to be baptized a Catholic. He had a
wholehearted conversion, praying for forgiveness and God’s mercy.

In 1996, in the crypt under St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York, pro-
life heroine Joan Andrews Bell acted as Bernie’s godmother. I was his
Confirmation sponsor. And John Cardinal O’Connor said Mass and
administered First Holy Communion to Bernard Nathanson.

It’s with great sorrow that we lose our movement’s most famous
defector from the abortion industry. Like St. Paul, he struggled
against the Light, but came to his senses a new man and became the
Truth’s champion.

Bernie fought the good fight, and has finished the race.

God bless you, Dr. Nathanson, and may you rest in peace.

By Katie Williams

Maybe it was because I am a little sleep deprived because three out of four children were finishing up their antibiotics for ear infection and I just got started on antibiotics myself for an ear and sinus infection. Maybe it was because I am four weeks pregnant with child number five and feel so protective during this fragile time. Maybe it was because he weighed in at over 200 pounds with a stature (?) of six plus feet and had an easy time pushing his fairly empty cart. You know those carts of retired people, only filled with a quarter gallon of milk, a small box of cereal, two apples, and one box of Little Debbie Snack Cakes. Well, I felt ill-matched. Weighing in at 117, five foot five inches, carrying my one year old on my hip, sweat dripping down my brow, all the while trying to single handedly maneuver an overflowing Wal-Mart cart with a defective wheel. My cart is bursting with gallons of milk, three cereal boxes, a smorgasbord of fruit and vegetables, cans and cans of food and bags of kitty litter at the bottom of the cart for proper weight distribution. Forget the Little Debbie Snack Cake box because I have my three year old sitting in the cart seat taking up any extra space that would be for sweet treats. My six year old and five year old are at the bow of our immense ship as we try to sail through the sales of Wal-Mart. Little did I know in Wal-Mart I would meet my daily dose of Goliath and I would confront him.

As we politely steered our cart around his, this retired gentleman started the quick jabs at me. “Are these all your kids?” he snidely said. I graciously nodded my head with a smile. Before I could dodge, another punch came my way. “Man, you sure have a lot of them. Bing, bing, bing! They are so close together!” he quipped rudely. “If I were you I would be taking Tylenol and aspirin all day due to headaches from those kids!” He laughed loudly as he played to the single crowd of the Wal-Mart employee who was stocking shelves right by us. I turned the corner of that aisle and could still hear their laughter bellowing at his comments.

I looked at my four little boys and their innocence and I thanked God for the child within my womb. This Goliath wanted to rumble, but this mama on first glance conceded the match. Three aisles and a checkout lane later, we meet again face to face. The six- year- old was unloading the cart and the three and five year old were quietly entertaining themselves, so I knew I was out of ear shot of them. With baby still on hip I turned to him, “Sir, the comments you made previously were rude and hurtful. It was inappropriate for you to make them especially in front of my children. I love my children and they are not headaches. They are blessings!”

I thought by this time he would be tired from sparring, but I was wrong. “Well, you have them bing, bing, bing, so close together. You must have started your family late in life. You really have your hands full.” So now my Goliath is not only commenting on the size and spacing of my family, but he is making remarks about a woman’s age. “I love my children and I wish you would not make such hurtful remarks again,” I firmly restated my position.
He grunted, “I have five children of my own and they have been trouble. If I see you again don’t worry I won’t make those comments to you.” I retorted, “I would appreciate it if you would never make those comments to ANY family.” I could see that my statements regarding the sanctity of life were not affecting him and in shear desperation to make a point I stooped low and went for the jugular by pointing out the blatant rudeness of his comments. “Sir, I love my children and I am sorry that you have had difficulties raising your children. But I must confess, my children don’t cause me headaches, it is just people like you who make comments like those that give me headaches and make me reach for my aspirin.” The uppercut blinded and silenced him.
I turned back to my corner of the ring and saw that my six year old had completely unloaded the whole cart and was already loading it back up again with the bagged groceries. The check-out woman commented what a good helper he was and said that he worked harder than any teenager. My heart was warmed. We headed out of the store and got loaded up into our vehicle. I hugged each of my boys as I loaded them into their car seats. You think I would have rallied at the final last witty knock-out punch I threw at my Goliath that day, but this victory was bitter-sweet.

The sweet part was in realizing what silenced my Goliath. It was my five smooth stones–my five children around me–their being, their smiles, their innocence, their sticky faces, their plethora of questions, their shoelaces that always need tying. Some say that David’s five stones represent the first five books of the Old Testament, which is the Word of God. David defeated Goliath with the Word of God. My children represent God’s word- “Go forth and multiply.”

The bitter part is that this poor man didn’t value his children as blessings; thus, they caused him grief which left him embittered. Unfortunately, I would venture to say that he doesn’t have any grandchildren to share his Little Debbie Snack Cakes with. Looking at my four smooth “stones” strapped in their car seats and patting the one “stone” growing in my womb, I know that today I left this battle with no scars, only the deep need to pray for this gentleman.
We were ill-matched, he was the one who was bitter and lonely and I was the one witnessing to the happiness of life and God’s creation. I threw up a prayer asking God to bring good to the situation, heal his wounded heart, and to make up for all charity that was lacking on my part. “But I also pray, my Eternal Giver, to continue to load my arsenal with as many ‘stones’ as you deem fit.” One should never be empty-handed when in Wal-Mart.

By Katie Williams

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you…” Jeremiah 1:5

My young boys and I were coming home one day from a town about an hour and a half from us. About ten miles outside of one small town on our journey, we started seeing homemade signs dotting the sides of the country road. They read: “Happy 50th birthday Cindy”, “Cindy is 50”, “Honk! Cindy is 50”, “We love you Cindy!”. There had to be at least eight or so of them scattered along the road on our drive. The boys and I had fun reading them and pointing them out. They kept asking me who Cindy was- thinking that everyone probably knew this celebrity and they needed to know who this famous person was, too.

Feeling like a mother should say more than, “I don’t know.” I responded, “Cindy is someone very special. God created her nine months before this day and He really loves her. He picked her out before He created the world and God said, ‘I want Cindy to be born.’ God loves Cindy so much just as he loves you and everyone else. We should always remember to celebrate life because God is life—the source of all life.”

So on our way home we stopped at the grocery store and I bought a birthday cake—that is a birthday cake for the infamous Cindy. I was already feeling like I kind of knew her just from passing all those signs. We got home, sang our best rendition of happy birthday to Cindy and thanked God for creating Cindy. We ate Cindy’s birthday cake. I hope Cindy would have preferred white cake with white frosting.

One might think it is strange to celebrate a birthday of someone whom we don’t know. We don’t know Cindy, what value does she have to us? That is not the proper question. The question is what value does she have to God? And the answer to that is infinite value! We, in our self-centered worlds, gage the worth of people by their value to us, but instead we should come into reality and gage the worth of people by their value to God. If we were to do this, we would realize that everyone is infinitely valuable. I wanted my kids to know this and that is why we celebrated a birthday of someone we don’t know. I am sure heaven was sporting similar road signs that day for Cindy. Cindy we love you because God loved you first.

I hope that some day you meet “Cindy”!