THE LEDGER-STAR
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, January 6, 1995 TAG: 9501060650
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JON MARCUS, ASSOCIATED PRESS
DATELINE: BROOKLINE, MASS. LENGTH: Medium: 75 lines
Billy and Jen arrived at their jobs in an abortion clinic from different points in history.
Billy, who is 70, remembers when women commonly performed abortions on themselves with hatpins. Jen, born in 1970, has never known a time when abortion wasn't legal.
What both women shared, however, was a sense of safety at work - until a gunman opened fire a week ago in the waiting room of their clinic, killing the receptionist and wounding three bystanders.
Minutes later, the gunman attacked a Planned Parenthood clinic two miles away, killing another receptionist and wounding two more people. A 22-year-old student hairdresser, John C. Salvi III, has been charged in the killings and with shooting out the windows of the only clinic in Norfolk.
``I never felt nervous. I never looked over my shoulder and I never thought violence could occur,'' said Jen, 24, who like other workers at Preterm Health Services was afraid to use her full name. ``I'll never take it for granted again.''
Billy was working at Preterm when the clinic began performing abortions in 1974. She calls herself the staff historian, a link to a time when her cousin died after a botched abortion. Now Billy's daughter works at the clinic, one of several mother-daughter combinations among the staff of 70.
Billy said she felt it was safe to retire when President Clinton, who favors abortion rights, took office.
Now she's not so sure.
``This has made me realize that you can never be complacent,'' she said Thursday as the clinic bustled with police and consultants taking notes on how to improve security. One administrator flinched at the sound of a police siren.
Working at an abortion clinic is not the kind of job most people pick out of the classified ads, Preterm employees say. It's a political statement.
``You have to have a passionate commitment to believing in a woman's right to choose, and stand behind that conviction, no matter how frightened you might be,'' said Kerry, 25.
Still, said Jen, ``Some days I wish that it could be just a job.''
The stress of dealing with patients struggling to reach a decision about their pregnancies occasionally drives Preterm employees to tears. So do the demonstrations that have long been a regular sight outside.
During some of the more violent protests, Billy said, ``I would go home every day shaking and saying, `I can't do it again.'''
To avoid confrontations over the abortion issue, some Preterm employees have told strangers they work for a gynecologist. Now they have resolved to be honest and stand up for their political convictions.
``I don't think I'll ever fudge about where I work again,'' said Kerry.
The clinic remains closed, but is accepting calls from patients and hopes to reopen next week. The schedule is fully booked for next Thursday, Friday and Saturday.
Employees expect protesters to return to their usual spot on the sidewalk in front of the building, which now is covered with wilting memorial bouquets and candles.
``Part of me would like to see (the shooting) remembered,'' Jen said. ``And part of me wishes everything would go back to the way it was before.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
ASSOCIATED PRESS
Leslie Davis Potter, executive director of the Planned Parenthood
Association of Mercer County, N.J., stands in the lobby of the
group's Trenton clinic while a receptionist, who asked not to be
identified, takes calls behind bulletproof glass. Despite having
recently installed $50,000 worth of security measures, clinic
officials are meeting with federal authorities in search of ways to
further improve security.
by CNB