Annual focus on sanctity of life draws crowd to clinic

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CRANSTON – A crowd of more than 100 gathered at the Broad Street Women's Clinic last Saturday for the annual Respect Life Vigil and Rosary, and Mass. The crowd, made up of Catholics and other pro-life activists from across the state, marched on the sidewalk in front of the busy clinic while praying the Rosary.

Bishop Thomas J. Tobin was among those participating. He praised those demonstrators who maintain a faithful vigil outside the clinic every week.

"I think their personal witness today and every week is important," he said. "It's not just a political thing, it's not just a social thing, but every time an abortion happens a child is killed."

According to a sign carried by one of the protesters, 62 abortions were performed at that clinic in the week prior to the protest. Despite the crowds that filled the sidewalk Saturday, cars continued to enter the driveway. The parking lot was nearly full when the protests began before 8 a.m.

"It's terrible to think that in this particular clinic that many children die every week," Bishop Tobin said.

Referring to the demonstrators, Respect Life Coordinator Carol Owens said, "They're people of life and nothing's going to stop them."

A core group of protesters is at the clinic every week trying to persuade women from entering its doors. Ann Duchesne of Cumberland, a member of St. Aidan parish, goes every Saturday morning. The determined band has a system down. She carries with her a rolling suitcase with information to pass out to women about to enter the clinic and stations herself at one entrance to the parking lot.

Saturday, when a car drove past her and into the parking lot, she sprang into action.

"Mama this is your baby!" she shouted to the young woman leaving the car. "Make them show you the ultrasound!"

Duchesne explained that in her experience seeing an ultrasound picture of their baby often changes women's minds about having an abortion. This time, despite Duchesne's pleas, the woman entered the clinic.

Unfazed, Duchesne turned her attention to a car on its way out. By walkie-talkie, she notified a protester waiting at the other entrance that the car was about to drive past him so that he could make final pleas to its occupants.

At Saturday's march nobody left because of the protests or engaged the demonstrators in friendly dialogue, but Duchesne and the other die-hard protesters say that is the nature of their calling. "We might have a Saturday where we save four [babies] and then we might have a month without any," she said.

"There are a number of people who don't come in because of the signs," added Ron Fontenault, who comes from Smithfield every Saturday to stand in front of the clinic. Fontenault attends the New Life Worship Center.

The signs are graphic images of aborted fetuses that are placed up and down the sidewalk. They are a major point of contention for the clinic workers and their neighbors.

We know they're ugly," Fontenault said, and he understands why many people find them offensive. But, he added, they represent the "ugliness of reality" and he hopes those images have the power to keep people out of the clinic.

Passersby who disagreed with the pro-life message made their opinions known too. Cars and trucks sounded their horns while driving past and some drivers made obscene gestures. One of the clinic's neighbors yelled out her window, telling them to leave.

Duchesne said that the complaints are all in a Saturday's work. She has seen fellow protesters assaulted by pro-choice activists and has had ice thrown at her while spreading her message.

Because of the volatile history of abortion activism at both ends of the spectrum, there are strict guidelines for Duchesne and the other protesters to follow. They were confined to the sidewalk, occasionally reminding each other to be careful of even taking a single step into the clinic's driveway.

Also, Cranston police officers kept watch and volunteers stood outside of the clinic to escort women inside.

Kevin D. Dello Iacono, a pro-life supporter from Scituate and a member of St. Philip parish, said that in his experience the volatility of the protests comes from the pro-choice end of the spectrum.

"There's a lot of anger that comes from them because they're doing the murder," he said of the clinic workers. His feelings are much different.

"Both the mother and the child deserve love," he said. "That's our approach; we’re trying to promote love between mother and child."

Occasionally the protesters' pleas enter the heart of a woman contemplating abortion, and that experience is what keeps the protesters going. Duchesne flipped open her cell phone to reveal the picture on its screen: a baby that someone brought to the clinic to meet her and the other protestors. The baby's mother was on her way to terminate the pregnancy when their protests changed her mind.

"One baby is worth it," said Fontenault.

Talking about the women who have brought their children back to the clinic to meet Duchesne and her fellow protesters – and there have been several – Duchesne reveals the dual purpose of her work at the clinic: she hopes to stop each mother that enters the clinic from ending her pregnancy, but she also hopes to plant an idea in the minds of everyone who sees their protests.

"We're here to save babies, but we're also here to plant in women's minds that abortion is an evil," she said. "Abortion takes away all your tomorrows."

As occurs every year, a Mass for Life followed the protest, held at nearby St. Paul Church and presided over by Bishop Tobin.

(For news of the January 22 pro-life events in Washington, D.C., see next week’s RI Catholic.)