Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SATURDAY, August 12, 1995                   TAG: 9508140067
SECTION: NATIONAL/INTERNATIONAL                    PAGE: A3   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: By JULIA PRODIS ASSOCIATED PRESS
DATELINE: DALLAS                                  LENGTH: Medium

WAS SHE `RIPE' OR `GULLIBLE'?

The first time the head of Operation Rescue saw the woman known as Jane Roe at a book signing in Dallas, he screamed, ``Norma McCorvey, you are responsible for the death of 33 million children!''

And thus began a beautiful friendship.

It took just four months for the Rev. Flip Benham to move his Operation Rescue headquarters next door to the Dallas abortion clinic where McCorvey worked, befriend her and claim her as a convert.

As of this week, McCorvey - the plaintiff in the 1973 Roe vs. Wade ruling that legalized abortion nationwide - quit her job at the abortion clinic, was baptized in a backyard swimming pool and started working at Operation Rescue.

She still favors abortions in the first trimester and has a live-in lesbian lover of 26 years - both anathema to Benham's fundamentalist Christianity. ``Norma will be set free from it,'' he said.

On Friday, as Benham prepared for an anti-abortion protest downtown, he was beaming.

``It was easy,'' he said. ``Her heart was ripe.''

At the Choice for Women abortion clinic Friday afternoon, where McCorvey's lover, Connie Gonzales, works as a medical assistant, tempers flared.

``I hate him. He's the devil,'' Gonzales said while taking a smoking break outside the clinic, which shares a wall with Operation Rescue.

``They've got her too far this time, and I will not let them take her any farther,'' she said. ``I will talk to her day and night if I have to.''

She acknowledges that McCorvey was ``looking for God,'' but ``you can talk her into anything. ... She is gullible.''

Just three weeks ago, Gonzales and McCorvey signed a memo written by the president of the clinic prohibiting any contact with Operation Rescue workers during office hours.

Benham recalled McCorvey's horror when Operation Rescue took up residence next door in March, saying she called him ``all sorts of names.''

Gradually, as Benham waved and smiled at her from across the parking lot, her guard broke down.

``Miss Norma, Miss Norma, what are we going to do?'' he would tease. Soon, she was calling him ``Flipper,'' and the two 47-year-olds were chatting about the Beach Boys.

By May, they were sitting together on a park bench in front of the abortion clinic, he with his Bible, she with her fortune-telling stones.

``Norma would come over to the office,'' he said. ``Sometimes she'd pick up the phone for us. She was a friend. She felt very free in our office. There came a time when Norma wished she was in our office more than theirs.''