So last night near the end of my shift at midnight, one of the clients of the Gay Bathhouse, which is located next to the Abortion Mill, approached me and another vigiler. He had frequented the establishment about an hour earlier, left and then came back for another go. On exiting the building this time, he crossed the street and stood by my male companion. I was sitting down on a lawn chair about five feet away. He came right up and stood beside him and mocked him. Then he brushed his arm, trying to provoke a reaction from him. He taunted us and let us know that he had a good time with his sexual exploits.
It was not a particularly peaceful night so I wasn’t in the mood to take much more of this abuse, especially when our opponents began to physically intimidate and mock us. My first natural reaction when the provocation started was to stand up and challenge this fool, but I know if I had done that, it would have potentially escalated into an ugly scene. So I sat there praying and my friend bore the mocking and insults, and we both accepted it with resignation and humility, powerless to do anything, lest any action on our part would give our opponents an excuse to shut us down. I thought of Suzanne Poulin the day before who was violently assaulted and did not raise her hand even in her own defense. I thought even of Our Lord, God Incarnate, who accepted the humiliations of his persecutors in order to defeat Sin. I thought of other pro-lifers who have had to endure much worse. That gave me strength. Their example showed me what true strength was, but it also showed me that I had a long way to go in dealing with what is surely to transpire in the coming years.