Unless one is among the more observant of students in the abortion debate/fight/melee--on either side--the name Norma Leah McCorvey might not be immediately recognizable. The name most know her by, however, draws immediate reaction. And may ever, as long as this battle about What Is It? continues in American politics and religion.
Your answer to What Is It? may tell all. Is it a baby? Or is it an unfortunate group of cells that should be removed like any other unwanted growth? Like a skin tag on the elbow. Some in this debate treat the issue as such. For proof, see those videos of Planned Parenthood types talking about fetus tissue over wine and salad.
Norma McCorvey, born in Simmesport, La., moved to Texas early in her life--her rough early life. The newspaper articles say she was 22, unmarried and pregnant for the third time in 1969 when she tried to have an abortion. But the law in Texas didn't allow such a thing. Abortion was illegal there except to save the life of a mother. Norma McCorvey couldn't afford to travel to a state that allowed abortion. An attorney she knew put her in touch with a couple of Texas lawyers who were in the market for a pregnant woman to take on the law. In Norma McCorvey, they found their Jane Roe.
These things take time, as any American involved in the legal system will attest. By the time the United States Supreme Court ruled on Roe v. Wade in 1973, Norma McCorvey's third child had been born. And was not aborted.
Since that ruling, abortion is no longer a crime. At least on the books. And speaking up for babyhood takes some bravery these days. You could be called anything. Anti-woman. Anti-freedom. Pro-life. And if caught on television decoding certain phrases such as Pregnancy Related Services or Planned Parenthood, you might not be invited to the best of dinner parties on the coasts.
Call it the Culture of Death. And if you haven't noticed it yet, look around. And see.
Who knew that Roe v. Wade would be the Dred Scott decision of our lifetimes? There's a story going around about the small-town preacher who tried to convince a small-town editor that Roe v. Wade would lead to millions of deaths. The editor tried to assure the over-excited preacher that abortion would still be rare, even if the law was changed. The preacher disagreed. The preacher, years later, turned out to be right. His name was Mike Huckabee.
Now the courts have found not only a right to abortion in the law, but a right to other savageries, like partial birth abortion. Which we won't go into detail here for decency's sake. But also for decency's sake, let us state that if it's an outrage to describe partial birth abortion, so is allowing it.
Norma McCorvey, like all lucky people, grew older. After a while of working for abortion clinics and being an outspoken supporter of abortion, she underwent a religious conversion or two. First, she was famously baptized on television and joined the pro-life crusaders. A few years after that she joined the Roman Catholic church.
Which reminds us of what one pesky irritation of a nun once said at a national prayer breakfast with a president named Bill Clinton sitting right there: "The greatest destroyer of peace today is abortion, because it is a war against the child, a direct killing of the innocent child, murder by the mother herself. And if we can accept that a mother can kill even her own child, how can we tell other people not to kill one another?"--Mother Teresa of Calcutta.
(Mother Teresa never did learn to be quiet in polite company. God bless her soul. Can you imagine calling abortion murder in a room full of Washington elites in the grand ol' year of 1994? Before the Bible-thumpers began making trouble again?)
So Norma McCorvey joined the Church, the Roman Catholic one. And began telling her story. At churches, at rallies, in books, and working for Operation Rescue. She later decided their tactics were too confrontational. So she formed a group called Roe No More. She helped take an abortion challenge all the way to the Supreme Court in 2005, but the nation's top court rejected it. So later she decided being confrontational was maybe what was necessary. She was among others arrested twice in 2009, first at Notre Dame when President Obama spoke there and later at Sonia Sotomayor's Supreme Court nomination hearing.
And she wouldn't go down in history as an anonymous nickname. Not if she could help it.
And she could.
Norma McCorvey's name was back in the news last week. She died at 69 at an assisted living center in Katy, Texas.
Not her, but her case, her old case from Texas, opened the door to this day of the euphemism and the Culture of Death. Or at least her lawyers and the courts did. But an older and wiser Norma McCorvey wouldn't allow the younger version to define her entire life. She came into the open, which took a bravery many of us don't have. Then she saw wrong and called it wrong. And acted on it.
How much courage must it take to go from being an ardent supporter of abortion to an outspoken critic? This wasn't an Arkansas legislator going to the courthouse to change his political affiliation. This was the face of the franchise completing a 180-degree turn on what some people think of as the biggest moral issue facing the country. Norma McCorvey did it. And never apologized.
Moral of the story: The time is never too late for redemption.
And redemption is something we can all use. If we'll just get to work on it. For proof, see the young lady from Louisiana and Texas who found hers as she matured.
Editorial on 02/26/2017