A Tired Old Rescuer Returns Once Again to the Field of Battle

The "Rescue Rosary" 

This morning I participated as a supporter/sidewalk counselor at a Red Rose Rescue in Washington, D.C. (See the press release.) Three people, including a Catholic priest, Fr. Fidelis Moscinski CFR, entered the Capitol Women's Services (CWS) abortuary on Georgia Ave. to talk to the women and offer them red roses and help. Another group also accompanied by a priest, Fr. Stephen Imbarrato,  entered an abortuary elsewhere in the city. Both groups shut down abortions for several hours. At least one woman left the Georgia Ave. site carrying a red rose.

Five of us witnessed outside CWS on the sidewalk sharing information with women going in and talking to passers by and the police. For me it was a return to the field of battle. I did many rescues in the late seventies to early nineties. Since then, I worked as a sidewalk counselor and volunteered at two crisis pregnancy centers. Lately, most of my pro-life work has been on the keyboard.

All pro-life work is important, but the hot spot battlegrounds, the front lines, where casualties mount every day are the abortuaries. Going there offers the last chance for the babies marked for death, a last chance to rescue their moms from a lifetime of regret, a last chance to challenge their dads to act like men and protect them.

How many years has it been since I joined a rescue? Too many! The last was the 1992 Spring of Life in Buffalo, NY when I ended up spending 24 days in jail. I almost missed my oldest child's college graduation. What an experience! Had the Lord clued me in about what was in store I would have been hiding under the bed, but he didn't. He just sent a clear message -- GO! 

So I went.

It's one of the few rescues that I absolutely knew God wanted me there. We had a 5-year-old foster child at the time. Herbie was a precious little kindergartner. We loved him. And he loved us -- especially our border collie Shaley and the hamsters. He'd only been with us a few months and the average time in foster care for a child from D.C. was FIVE YEARS! Since the rescue was planned during Easter break, I figured we'd only be gone for a few days and my high school senior could surely keep things under control until his dad got home from work every day.

But I thought better of it. I was Herbie's security blanket and decided I couldn't possibly leave unless he went home...a very unlikely event. My first duty was to the child. So I told the Lord I couldn't go unless Herbie was reunited with his family.

Talk about laying a fleece before the Lord and seeing it immediately snatched up! The very next day the foster care agency called and said Herbie was going home. I rejoiced for the sake of the child. In my opinion he never should have been removed, but that's another story. At any rate, I hugged Herbie as he left, saluted the Lord, and hustled off to Buffalo with my mom, a teenage daughter, and a niece.

The usual drill for rescues was blocking the doors to prevent entry, and there were hundreds participating in this particular event. The mayor of Buffalo encouraged us to come and we arrived by the droves. I think close to three hundred men and women were arrested that day. It took hours to process us before we finally ended up in the Erie County Detention Center. I was incarcerated with about 175 other women. About 100 men were jailed somewhere else.

Originally my daughter and niece were going to rescue, but the city was threatening to turn minors over to social services so I wouldn't let the girls get arrested. We were staying with a lovely older couple and the girls went back to their home while Mom and I were processed and expected to be released within hours.

Well...it didn't turn out that way. Arrested for "blocking traffic" we soon realized they had decided to hold us...and hold us...and hold us. They also clearly wanted to punish us. The magistrate levied a large bail. The local bail bondsmen refused to post bail for out-of-towners. After my husband checked and we found it would be over $500.00 to get bail from Virginia, which would be non-refundable out-of-pocket, I said, "Don't bail me out. They can't possibly keep us long. It's costing them a fortune."

Spending the taxpayers' money to pound pro-lifers was apparently no problem because day after day we continued to be jailed without a trial. Miraculously, my daughter and niece got a ride back to Virginia with a family headed that way for a conference. (Jesus and His Mother arranged that one!) Meanwhile, my mom and I prayed with the other ladies and we all passed the time before the evening prayer and singing service by exercising, sharing talents, reading, chatting, etc. A great networking time, I came out with a design for a color-coded "rescue rosary." Each decade was a different color and prayed for a different group: light blue for the moms, gold or white for the babies (God's innocent treasure), red for the rescuers (the color of martyrdom), dark blue for the police, and black for the killers and their staff. So much valuable information came from other prisoners of conscience. I still treasure the memories.

I made friends with one of the guards, a man who hated his job and wanted out. He told me several weeks after our incarceration that the jail usually had several violent incidents among the prisoners every week. They did not have single one during the 24 days we were there, the power of grace!

Red Roses prepared with love, offering a message of hope and a miraculous medal

A woman guard was furious when I posted two signs: "Welcome to the gulag!" and "Stalag 13." When she went on the warpath, I admitted I was the miscreant who posted the signs. She told me she had asked for the prison detail to make sure we were treated well. I thanked her for her concern, but pointed out that we were political prisoners. How many people go to jail for weeks with draconian bails for "blocking traffic?" They wanted to make sure Buffalo never saw a group like this again.

I later found out the city had a reputation for deep immersion in the occult, something easy to believe.

At any rate, this morning as I gave out information and spoke to people on the sidewalk, I experienced an incredible peace. In a culture that murders the peers of my grandchildren, I was exactly where I belonged. Saving babies is in my blood and the red rose rescue is the perfect opportunity to touch the hearts of parents and, hopefully, through God's grace, to turn them to their children. It also touches the hearts of the community.

CEO from The National Telegraph (man in the middle) asked to interview us.

And even though we don't save every baby, our presence witnesses to their value and delays their murder. How much is an hour or two or three worth to the little ones whose lives have only recently begun? Only God knows. They are precious in His eyes and we will not let them die unmourned and invisible. Every person who talked to us today heard about the babies in danger. One woman joined us holding a sign. She asked for information to give her pastor. "I've lived here all my life," she told me, "And I never knew there was an abortion clinic here." She does now!

Please pray for the success and the spreading of the Red Rose Rescue movement. America is collapsing because we murder our children. Until that ends, nothing we do can be considered a success. Please support the Red Rose Rescues in whatever way you can: prayer, fasting, joining, sharing.

Don't be among those who treat the babies like disposable doll objects unworthy of notice.

May God make all of us real or virtual rescuers!