I went to Stanislaus University for the second time in two months. The first time I was there I made a hasty exit when I spotted a security car on the campus after putting 400 pieces of literature under windshield wipers. This time I wasn't as fortunate. after leafleting about 100 cars, a security car again appeared on the scene. I started walking off the campus in order to avoid the inevitable confrontation. In less than thirty seconds, there he was behind me. He parked and addressed me in an extremely polite way, asking me if I would like to speak with him. I responded to his courtesy in the same manner. (This man was dressed exactly like a policeman, but I was aware of the fact he was working for the school.)

     Soon we were discussing the pros and cons of distributing literature on the campus. After about five minutes of standing in the hot, baking sun, another young fellow came on the scene. He was driving a small motorcycle and was dressed in regular clothes. He listened as I talked with the first security officer. When I was told by the first man that I was welcome to distribute literature in the area assigned by the school, I questioned him, saying that from previous experience these places on campus were areas where only a few students could be reached. When the first security officer denied this, the other young man unconsciously began to shake his head. I laughed and told them they were giving themselves away. Immediately the man on the motorcycle told me what he thought about my distribution of pro-life literature: "I not only got your disgusting material once, but twice," he complained.
"I guess that means you're for abortion?" I said. "Do you realize that God says abortion is wrong?" I asked.
     "Well," he said, "that doesn't apply if you're an atheist, does it?"
     "You'er absolutely right," I answered, "but atheists are headed for Hell anyway so it really doesn't matter, does it?" He couldn't think of anything to say.

     Finally, after trying to unsuccessfully get my name from me and lying to me about being unaware of what I was distributing (he said he knew I had been there twice), the first security officer wished me well and I left the campus area leafleting cars along the street until I reached by car.

     It was the last day of school at Tracy High. Noticing five girls sitting along the curb in a parking lot across from the school, I approached them. They all accepted the literature in a polite manner. I then asked them where was the best place to stand as the kids were leaving. They told me and I immediately walked over and stood there behind a large hedge. There were two security people engaged in a conversation who, apparently, couldn't see me from my position behind the hedge.

     The students began to come out at slow intervals. One older girl approached me holding the hand of a little boy about four years old. "It's about time you came here," she said. "I really appreciate your being here." She was obviously pro-life, and I cam to the conclusion that her little boy was the result of a problem pregnancy.

     All the while I stood distributing materials the two security men were engaged in the same conversation. They never did notice me, and they finally walked off toward the school building.

     Later I got into an interesting conversation with a young man standing next to a car occupied by an older woman and a few of his friends. He stood there with the side front door open and told me he didn't want the literature because he didn't believe in God. I told him just because you don't believe in God -- or say you don't -- doesn't mean that God doesn't exist.

     "Well," he said, "I haven't done anything really wrong like murdering someone or having sex. I believe in a higher power," he said. I began to tell him about an experience I had when I found Jesus Christ nmany years ago: "I walked into a library one person and came out another," I told him. "In other words, through personal experience I know there is a God." I mentioned making Jesus the center of your life and told him this was the only way to be really happy. I said it makes a big difference in a marriage.
    "My mother was a Christian and she got a divorce," he said.
    "Well, maybe your mother didn't really know Christ." I told this young man that he was taking the wrong road in life and that this road could lead to Hell. He wasn't belligerant like the usual so-called atheists. He had a quiet way about him.
     "I used to believe in God when I was a kid," he said. "Somehow I stopped believing." I asked him whether he ever read the Bible. He said he had in the past.
     "Well, maybe you'd better take another look at it," I said. "You're a ship without a sail. You need Jesus as your anchor," I said. He then admitted he was just drifting. We were interrupted by someone calling him. We had been talking five minutes, and I think I gave him something to think about.

I went to Prescott Jr. High in Modesto on the last day of school. It was a beautiful 80-degree weather day as I parked my car around the corner from the school and stood waiting for the kids' dismissal at 12:43 PM. They came out in clusters and just about all of them accepted it. When told it was "against abortion", several of them made comments about how "bad" abortion is. One boy said he wondered why people had sex if they didn't want a baby. Their remarks about being against abortion revealed the sophistication of these junior highers. There is always some reluctance on my part to go to seventh and eighth grade students because I still remember how naive this age group was before the onslaught of sex ed and condoms in the schools. I am soon reassured by their comments after I begin distributing literature that they are not too young.

     One girl standing with her two friends asked me whether or not I was pro-abortion. They seemed reluctant to take the materials.
     "Listen," I said to her, "if I were for abortion, I certainly wouldn't be standing here doing this. It is God who gives me the will and stamina." They immediately smiled at me -- obviously Christians -- taking the literature. One of them held up her thumb as she walked away.
     There seemed to be a few more students than usual that day. I almost emptied out my totebag.

     Later in the day I received a phone call from an irate mother. She was so angry it was hard to get a word in edgewise. "What right do you have to distribute this material to my daughter?!" she yelled.
     "Do you realize your daughter can have an abortion without your knowledge or consent?" I asked.
     "I know the law!" she screamed.
     "Are you for abortion?" I asked.
     "That's my business!" she screamed again. "I'm going to write a letter to my congressman about you people!"
     Again, I asked if she was for abortion. Then she started swearing at me.
     I said, "Now that you're swearing, that's the end of our conversation."

     Nothing went as planned that day. Cal State in Turlock and Modesto College were my original targets, but I soon found rain was forecast which meant sopping wet literature under windshield wipers. I planned to schedule my trip for the following Monday and then it dawned on me that Monday was Memorial Day. I then remembered driving past Davis High at dismissal time and saw many students were coming out in a direction I had not noticed before. But I finally decided on Turlock High, and as I drove down the 99 Freeway, I had a feeling that there must be a special reason for my ending up there because of all the changes in plans.

     I parked my car along a side street, arriving about fifteen minutes before dismissal time and proceeded to leaflet the students' cars next to the park across from the school. As I walked back to the corner, a young girl stood there with a reddish-colored medium-size dog. I approached her and handed her a packet of literature. She immediately said "I'm going to show this to my mother. She wants me to have an abortion."
     "How far along are you?" I asked.
     "Just six weeks," she answered. "I can't understand my mother. She had me when she was sixteen, and now she wants me to have an abortion."
     "How old are are you?" I asked.
     "Fifteen." She went on to say that her boyfriend had skipped out as soon as he found out that she is pregnant. Then she told me someone told her that if your parents want you to have an abortion, you have to do it.
     "That's wrong - that's a lie," I told her. "You, the mother, are the only person who has a right to decide this. I know what I'm talking about," I said.
     About that time the dog, who was a stray and had been following her she said, started to walk in the street. "Come back!" she yelled at the dog. "I don't want him killed," she told me. (This girl had a natural respect for life I thought to myself.)
     "Listen," I said. "if anyone tries to force you to have an abortion, do you know what you can do? Call the police." She said nothing but the look she gave me showed a resolve that meant she intended to do this if it were necessary.

     I told this young girl that God doesn't make mistakes. She should keep remembering this. About that time the students started to come in large groups crossing the street. As I turned and was leaving, I told her: "I knew there was a reason why I came here today." I touched her shoulder. "You are that reason." A minute later I looked for her, and she and the dog were out of sight.

Later that day I went to McClatchey High, a school I have been leafleting for many years. I had never had any trouble before, but this time I was about to get into a confrontation with the school security.

     The students accepted the literature with very little questions and opposition. A blond boy with a Harpo Marx hair style approached me saying he was "pro-choice" and then made a comment about animals.

     "Are you sure you're pro-choice?" I asked. "We're made in the image of God," I said, "and that makes you important. Animals are not made in God's image. Look at the Bible and you can see the God clothed Adam and Eve in animal skins after they sinned." I mentioned the Israelites wanting to eat meat after they left Egypt and God sending them quail to eat. After talking to him for a few mintues more, he gave me a smile and said he agreed with what I had told him about abortion.

     I waited until the rush of students had stopped and began heading back to my car passing out literature to a few stragglers as I walked. A pretty brunette woman about 25-30 years old stopped me and began a converation. She wore a blouse and a long skirt. Attached to her side was a walkie-talkie. She behaved differently from the usual arrogant, rude security people I have experienced in the past. She got into a conversation about abortion after she had told me that "you have to distribute literature across the street. The area around the school is school property" to which I replied that the "area around the school is the public sidewalk and my free speech rights apply here."

     She told me with her friendly manner and smile she had three children herself, but she believed in a woman's right to have an abortion. I told her that abortion is against the law of God - Thou Shalt Not Kill - and asked her if she believed in God.
     "I'm a spiritual person," she replied. I said that I believed in Jesus Christ who is God, that God creates life, and that we are made in the image of God. "This is why abortion is wrong."

     At the end of our five-minute conversation, she extended her hand to me and asked, "What is your name?" I told her that when we distribute literature, we don't give our names. Her face fell from a smile to a blank lackluster expression. (I knew immediately that she was trying to make friends with me in the first place in order to get information on me.)

     A few minutes later she came back with a male security guard in tow. This man was in his fifties and also was different from the usual bullying type. He immediately went over the same ground that the woman did - telling me to go across the street, etc. This time I told him I was exercising my Constitutional right to free speech and that I was sure of what I was saying. I had been to hundreds of schools and the public sidewalk was protected by the First Admendment. "You should call an attorney," I said, "and he will tell you that I am right. The same law that gives Nazis the right to demonstrate gives me the right to pass out materials" I told him as I walked away. I handed a packet to a male student a few feet away, walked across the crosswalk and returned to my car.

     I stood at the crosswalk located at Tracy High School and waited for students to come out. As I passed out literature, I was soon questioned by a security person, an older woman in her early fifties who demanded to see the literature. She called the office on her portable phone and then informed me that the principal told her I had to go across the street. "No," I answered. "I go to many schools and I have the right to distribute literature on the sidewalk." She stood there for a few minutes and then finally walked away.

     Two tall, blond young men I handed the material to immediately asked whether I wanted to give it to them because they were already against abortion. "We're Christian," they said. I looked at these two boys and thought to myself: "You really don't have to tell me you're Christian. It's written all over your faces - an indisputable wholesomeness." I told them that Christian women are having abortions and that they should pass out the material at their church. I handed them both a half dozen packets and they willingly accepted them.