Norma Mccorvey - Won by Love: Norma McCorvey, Jane Roe of Roe vs. Wade, Speaks Out for the Unborn as She Shares Her New Conviction for Life

If I had known March 31, 1995, was going to be such a bad day, I probably would have checked out of life right then and there. But I was oblivious to all that lay ahead as I answered my phone and heard the news that exploded my comfortable world.

Youll never guess whos moving in next door, I heard a woman from the abortion clinic say.

John Travolta, I offered.

No.

Humphrey Bogart?

No.

Then who? I was not in a mood to play games.

Try Operation Rescue.

I immediately fumbled around and lit up a second cigarette, even though I already had one burning. They dont make nicotine strong enough for situations like this one.

Youve got to be kidding, of course, I said, feigning laughter. This is a joke, right?

Im afraid not. You ought to come down and see for yourself.

The clinic workers tone overcame my doubts, and I hung up the phone in shock. For me, Norma McCorvey, also known as Jane Roe of the infamous Roe v. Wade abortion decision, to have Operation Rescue for a next-door neighbor was like having the Hatfields move in next door to the McCoys. My most bitter enemies and I would be sharing a common wall. I could feel a headache coming on.

For forty-some years I had played it tough. I was Jane Roe, I could handle anything. But the truth is, I felt so weak that I knew I needed help, yet there was no spiritual strength for me to draw upon. My hands were shaking too much to consult the Ouija board, so I considered my two standbys: drugs and constant activity.

Since the nicotine wasnt working, I called the press. Channel 4 in Dallas was always one of my favorites. As an abortion advocate, my views were consistently well represented on that network, and I knew I would get a sympathetic (if not an overtly biased) hearing. I got hold of a producer and announced, Have I got a story for you guys.

What is it, Norma? he asked.

Seems like Operation Rescue is moving next door to the abortion clinic where I work.

Youre kidding. O.R. is moving next door to Jane Roes abortion clinic?

Thats right.

This is too much!

Well, let me get down there and see whats going on. Ill fill you in.

The circus had begun.

It took me seven minutes to complete what was normally a fifteen-minute trip. The last thing I could do was sit still, so I drove as fast as I could, inhaling on my cigarettes with a greedy passion. I couldnt get the nicotine into my system fast enough.

On the drive over, I became convinced that somebody must be playing a cruel joke on me. The landlord had promised that our abortion clinic could have the space into which O.R. was reputed to be moving. We were planning to expand. We even had a key to the front door! How in the world could the landlord turn around and rent the space to O.R.?

It was impossible.

I pulled off the LBJ Highway and onto Markville Drive, the side street housing our clinic in the Lake Highlands area of north Dallas. A Choice for Women was located in an aging one-story office building that is U-shaped with a huge parking lot in the center. The abortion clinic was at the bottom of the U, set back about a hundred yards from any public walkway. That was not by accident. We had to have sufficient private property so that the O.R. Terrorists (as we thought of them) could not legally set up camp outside our front door or even demonstrate in a place where they could reach our clients.