At least 50 people are gathered in the parking lot, a space designed for 20 cars, and a guitarist with an amp is strumming and crooning. The layout is a nightmare for patients who have to navigate a series of turnoffs that lead them past the van and through the parking lot where these protesters set up camp each morning. They swarm as a car drives in, with two of our more experienced escorts racing to catch up.
I hobble over, reaching it just behind a man in pink. This dramatic scene plays out several days each week. On Saturdays, the group of protesters grows to a near-mob, as eight volunteer escorts run interference for clinic patients.
Most are women of color, many of whom drive long distances from rural parts of the state to access care. This can sometimes lead to the need for a more expensive, later-term abortion, or even force a patient to run out of time for the procedure at all. This deception is highly calculated. And Merritt says that patients waylaid by the crisis center van have reported phone harassment by care center staff or volunteers who threaten to call the numbers listed for loved ones or employers. Some days, the emotional toll of escorting is intolerable, particularly for those targeted.
But with protesters outnumbering escorts at least to-1, the clinic is desperate to recruit more supportive volunteers. Still, I held this image of warmly greeting clients and walking them to the clinic door. And this is indeed one part of escorting.
But most of the rest of my first day is spent fending off the provocations of protestersβthose affiliated with the care center as well as their assembled comrades. One pink-vested woman asks if I know Jesus. And hearing the instructions of the head escort becomes hard when an older White guy turns up his megaphone and launches into a rant about child murder. Later, she explains to me that they used to get into political arguments, but that it just made her less attentive to people who needed an escort.
