It was probably the large amount of discarded packets sprawling side by side in the gutter that attracted him there on that January 21st, the day before the anniversary of the Supreme Court Decision - a Fremont policeman who gave me a bad time as I distributed literature.

     I was thinking about the unusually large amount of students that day - coming directly toward me in two different paths. Every once in a while I looked behind me to see if there were any literature thrown away. The street was clear. Since kids have a "monkey see, monkey do" attitude in just about everything they do, it must have been one or two kids starting it that suddenly erupted with the large amount of material thrown there.

     The policeman pulled up in his black and white just a few feet from where I stood. He immediately greeted me with a hostile attitude, demanding that I leave, stating that I could not pass out materials there - "on school property" he said. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to bring my "EXCERPTS FROM THE CALIFORNIA ATTORNEY GENERAL’S OFFICE" spelling out my legal rights to distribute literature on the public sidewalk adjacent to the school - THE ONE TIME I REALLY NEEDED IT! I thought to myself this is the first time in many years that anyone at all has approached me at IRVINGTON HIGH - teachers, security, etc. I immediately told him that this was not school property, but the public sidewalk, and I had a right to distribute literature materials.

     "If you don’t leave, I’ll have to arrest you" he proclaimed. I felt that this threat, which he gave without complete assurance, was not something he was used to saying. I told this 5’ 10" policeman that if he would arrest me, he would be immediately subject to a personal lawsuit. "Why don’t you look up the law on this before you start harassing me?" I asked. The comment about the lawsuit apparently hit its mark because he got back in the police car and I thought the trouble was over. At that time I noticed he had a passenger in the front seat of the car, an older heavyset man (could it be his father or some friend or relative? I thought) A half minute later he jumped out of the car and started to harass me again: "What’s your name?" he asked. Again, I stood my ground. "I don’t have to give you my name," I stated firmly. "Look up the law." He then started talking about all the materials in the street as though it were the end of the world’ "Look," I said, "why are you worried about torn-up literature packets? What about the over 4,000 babies being torn apart in their mothers’ wombs every day? Aren’t you concerned about that?" I added: "Even though I didn’t throw this material in the street, when I finish distributing literature, I will pick it up."

     As I continued to pass out materials, this policeman stood there and told the kids not to take the literature. A few didn’t listen to him but most did. When I finally started to walk away and began picking up the literature packets in the street (they were all lying close to the curb), I was joined by a pretty young girl. She slowly and deliberately bent down with me, helping me retrieve all of the discarded literature. As she handed the literature packets to me, she asked me whether I wanted to take them or "should I put them in the garbage can?" "I’ll take them," I answered. "God bless you!" I said to this angelic girl. I didn’t know where she came from - whether or not she was a student I didn’t know. "God bless you!" she said as she walked away.

     All the while this was going on the policeman stood there watching me. I felt he was trying to save face as he had lost on two points - arresting me and getting my name. My next thought was my car parked across the street in the shopping center parking lot and my telltale license plate which could give this policeman all the information he wanted to know about me. I was determined not to return to my car until he had left.

     There were many IRVINGTON HIGH students in the parking lot. I approached them as they were standing in groups of four or five. Some of them told me they already had the literature. One girl asked why the policeman was bothering me. "He’s trying to deprive me of my civil rights of distributing literature," I answered. Another girl refused the literature in an apologetic way saying, "I’m sorry I can’t accept your literature, but I don’t agree with your viewpoint." "I’m sorry too," I answered, "because ABORTION IS MURDER."

     As I kept an eye out for the police car, I made my way to a restaurant where there were some outside tables with students sitting there. I immediately got into a conversation with a girl about seventeen who gave the usual "pro choice" comments. I told her that "you can have an abortion in front of your friends, your family, the world. But when you die and face God, you’re going to have to answer to Him. Then He’s going to tell you that you’re not going to Heaven, but you are going to the other place." A tall African American fellow (reminding me of the comedian, Jimmy Walker) standing next to me who had already asked me some questions about "who is behind this distribution of literature," began to confront this young woman. I stood there listening to every word: "Hey," he said, "abortion is taking the life of a baby. Would you kill a baby who is already born?" His last comment to her was: "If you have an abortion and die without repenting, you’re going to HELL, girl!"

     "Thank you for taking the pro-life side!" I said to him. "I’m proud of you!" He beamed from ear to ear. As I looked over to the area across the street, the police car was gone. I got into my stationwagon and sped away.

     The weather was 50 degrees as I waited for the kids coming out at the corner crossing at CERES HIGH five miles south of Modesto. (Earlier I had approached five students standing in front of a hamburger place across from the school. One of them, a 6’2" blond young man remembered me from my previous visit saying he had already seen the literature. As I talked to the others, he said nothing. His somber face made me wonder whether he had been involved in an abortion. The others accepted the literature and seemed surprised when I told them that Clinton had vetoed the partial birth infanticide bill approved by Congress that was depicted in the literature I handed them.)

     After I passed out materials to about 200 receptive kids coming in two different directions, I recrossed the street and returned to the hamburger place. When I tried to give a packet to a heavyset girl standing there with two other girls, she immediately told me she was a lesbian. "I won’t be having kids and neither will my partner," she adamantly stated. "This issue doesn’t concern me."

     "You mean you’re not concerned about what happens to other people?" I questioned. "You don’t care about the rest of the world? Do you realize that because of abortion you probably won’t be receiving Social Security in your old age. Every day they kill over 4,000 babies," I said. She then criticized me for bringing the issue of MONEY into the discussion, and I countered by telling her that since she didn’t seem to care about other people, I had to tell her something that would affect her personally.

     Then a young man came up to me and asked if I remembered him from the last time I was there. I vaguely remembered him - I see so many kids at the schools. This time he wore a gold earring and openly said he was a homosexual. He loudly proclaimed that I had told him he was going to Hell when I was there before. I answered him by saying that I would never tell people they are going to Hell, only that they are on the pathway to Hell because of the sin in their lives. I said again that homosexuality is a sin and suggested he read the Bible. I asked him if he realized why he was a homosexual" "Homosexuals are not born that way," I said. "They may have the tendency for this particular sin, and it is encouraged through a bad start in life - girls not being able to identify with a mother figure and boys with a father figure."

     "Look," he told me, "I can’t change the way I am. Why would God judge me for that?" "God gave you a way out," I told him, through Jesus Christ. He is our sin bearer." "Sin bearer?" he questioned. "Yes. He died on the cross for our sins. When He comes into our lives, He gives us the strength to resist sin. He gives us a new heart."

     Then one girl started to mock what I was saying making blasphemous remarks about the "old men" who wrote the Bible. I immediately told her in no uncertain terms that she was committing blasphemy. I said to stop what she was saying - that God could hear her and she should be afraid of His anger. I could see an immediate change in the attitude of these kids after my outburst of righteous anger. There was a new respect for me. The harsh criticism of me stopped. This same girl then asked me whether I thought her girlfriend went to Hell because she died in a drunken state. She said, "This girl believed in God and everything." "Look," I said, "God alone can judge her. Just remember that God looks on our hearts."

     As I left for the day, I pulled out some tracts (THE NEW BIRTH) that I had in my pocket. There happened to be three of them - just enough for the three homosexuals I was talking with. One of them said, "Well, we took the abortion literature you gave us, so I guess we’ll take this too." They all accepted it willingly. The girl who had blasphemed the Gospel said "God bless you" as she left.

We traveled to Sacramento, Shirley and I, on a Friday morning. It was HOT!!! Our first stop was CAL STATE off the busy 50 Freeway. We parked our car in an outlying parking lot area where we experienced no opposition from Security and managed to leaflet close to 800 cars. Occasionally, I approached a student walking to and from a car and a brief exchange of words occurred. One student when I asked him if he was against abortion stated: "In some cases I’m against it and in other cases I’m for it." "But it’s always MURDER!" I stated emphatically. "I guess you’re right," he admitted.

     Another student made reference to partial birth infanticide. I immediately gave him a copy of the leaflet showing the graphic drawings. There were at least three couples who refused the literature. I walked away guessing they had been involved in abortions.

     We were on our way after almost two hours of leafleting in the HOT SUN - back on the freeway to SACRAMENTO HIGH near downtown Sacramento. There was one city bus parked in front when we arrived which was soon full of students as it drove away. One young girl and her friend approached me with the words: "What are you passing out?" "Pro-life materials," I answered. "Do you think that choosing an abortion is a matter of opinion which everyone is entitled to?" she asked, pro-death written all over her face. "No," I answered. "ABORTION IS MURDER!" "Oh," she said speechless as she walked away.

     After the rush of students had subsided, I was approached by a woman security person - tall, black, attractive - who pointed to the corner across the street and said: "You’re not allowed to distribute literature here. This is city property. You have to move across the street." "I’m sorry," I answered her, "but you’re wrong. This is the public sidewalk and we have a right to be here." When she could see I had no intention of moving, she got on her walkie-talkie and gave the news that they had a problem. "If you don’t move, you may be arrested and you don’t want that," she said, trying to intimidate me. "That would leave you wide open to a lawsuit," I answered. "Listen," she said to me, immediately changing her attitude in response to my remark about the lawsuit with a new, almost kind, tone in her voice. "I agree with what you are doing. These kids need this information," she said as she looked at the literature.

     Soon a black male security guard joined us with the same message: "Move across the street. This is city property." This time I told him that what he was saying about "city property" was "baloney." "Lady, I’ve been doing this for ten years and I know what I’m talking about," he said. "I’ve been doing this for twenty years," I answered. The woman security guard smiled. At that point they both started walking away. The male security guard’s last words were: "These kids aren’t going to accept this material from you, not with your attitude," he said trying to save face.

     In the meantime Shirley had experienced a half dozen rejections of the literature before the security guards came on the scene. As the kids watched the altercation from a short distance away, they immediately did an about-face. All came back asking Shirley for the literature.