Alabama Church uses Baby "Dolls" on Stakes to Protest Abortion!

Eyewitness report - Near Gadsden, AL, June 17, 2009.

It is almost midnight as I sit down to write about the troubling sight I have just seen.  I had expected it to be worse... more disturbing - and maybe it will be when I return in the morning in the daylight to take photos. When everything will be clearer.

This afternoon when I arrived at work one of the first things a woman friend said to me was, "I want you to write something for me."

I tried to stop her quickly, saying, "It won't do any good, the local paper won't print anything I write "- as I have been blacklisted for about seven years now, for calling for a boycott against one of their advertisers because of what I and others felt, was racism.

She said, "You write it and I will sign it."

Then she told me what was bothering her so badly. She said a local church had placed  many baby "dolls" along side a major road, and each one was "impaled" on a stick.  She said it was obviously an anti-abortion message, but she was very worried about how young children would react to seeing life-like looking "babies" impaled on sticks.

There was some discussion among several co-workers, and the consensus was completely against such a display - for that very reason - what would it do to the children who saw it.

I told my friend I would go look at it in the morning and maybe write something. But as the evening wore on, that was all I could think about.

And because of the nature of the display, if I were to take photographs, there was the possibility that if the lighting was unique at night, there could be an opportunity to take a better photograph of what was there, than one taken in the day.

Light is color and life. Nothing speaks of death like black and white.

As soon as my time at work was up, I "borrowed" three sheets of paper from my employer to take notes on, got in my car, and turned onto the main "drag" of Gadsden, AL.  At 11:00 PM, It was almost deserted, except for cars around several taverns.

Halfway down to the Coosa River bridge, a car approaching from the right stopped at a green light, and then when it turned red, turned in front of me.

I thought it is just like me, to get killed in an accident, while going to a story about death.

Now the car was ahead of me and stopped at a red light, and immediately both driver and passenger doors flew open and two people jumped out and headed toward the back of the car.

I thought I was being car jacked. I put my hand on the gear shift to put it in reverse. But all they did, was go around the car and get in each other's seats. A maneuver I had heard called in my youth, "a Chinese fire drill."  For what reason it is called that, I had no idea.

I was just glad I was still alive. Life is precious.

I came to the river and the bridge, where a famous local man, here called a hero of the South, once road South and East to tell the Confederates the Rebels were coming. He was going to the same small town I was going to, and I decided to follow his path - even though parts of his path are now covered with six lanes of paved road, with Walmart on one side and your usual on the other.

I passed a church which had a sign out front saying, "God's policy is best," but I couldn't help but remember that in the Old Testament, when the Jews were about to enter the promised land, I believe it was God's instruction, or "Policy" for his followers to kill every man, woman and child in the land.  No exceptions! And I believe, some, if not a great deal of the women killed, may have been possibly pregnant.

I tried not to think about this because I had determined I was going to write whatever I saw as a straight news story, and leave my opinions out of it.  One reason for that determination, was that my thoughts about abortion are confused.

When I was young I was very much pro choice - but once my wonderful daughter was born, 12 years ago, and the doctor handed her to me in the delivery room... all that changed immediately. And I can't imagine living without her.

But what about a woman who is raped?  What about a child who doctors know will be born severely deformed? These questions weighted heavily on me as I drove.

And as I drove,  a truck that hauls chickens to their death is in front of me. It is empty. The contents have been delivered to the slaughter.  It is a daily thing here.  Once a long time ago I saw one who had somehow escaped a truck, and it was standing beside a very busy intersection, wondering which way to go. Going back and forth, in a way only confusion can create - sort of like me, when it comes to the issue of abortion.

My wife and I and daughter have three dogs and two cats... and we know that they think, and that they have feelings. We would not hurt them - or even a chicken - for the world, if we could help it.

And yet, what do we do about abortion.

What we do, is we don't think about it, until we are made to.

And if my friend is right, not far from here, a church is going to make us think about it, whether we want to or  not.  And to my friend's eyes, and mine, is the question, should young children see such a thing, and be made to think about it.  At what age SHOULD a person be made to think about it.

Because it IS a child. The new ultra detailed sonograms will show you the face, the little hands, the little feet. All moving, or sleeping, and all healthy if things are going right. A little human being, in the earliest stages of human life. Alive. Already developing it's uniqueness.

Someone who has never lived before, and whom there is no one else in the world exactly alike him or her. Or ever will be... if allowed to live.

I turn left and head out of East Gadsden, toward the city that had to be warned the Union soldiers were coming.

There are very bright city street lights here and it seems almost daylight - but then they end abrubtly... and so does the light. Then up ahead on the right... I see what appears to be row upon row of little somethings sticking up out of the ground, around a big church sign.

Like being dead, I am where I was going much sooner than I thought I would be.

The Church sign reads "Goodyear Heights Baptist Church," and I keep going straight, slowly, looking to the right to try to make out the "aborted" babies.

From this distance, and in the dark, a few look like new born infants when the light shines on them just right. But the most, don't look like anything at all.  Just something stuck on sticks. Many somethings, stuck on many stakes into the ground.

I do a U-turn up ahead and come back and turn into the road that leads to the church. I stop as near to the stakes as I can. But I am still far away. To far to make a good picture. And the light is not good anyway - a kind of yellowish glow.

But there is another sign. And it says "945 BABIES ARE KILLED EACH MONTH IN ALABAMA."

I - like most people probably -never realized it was that many. Now I do. And that is what the stakes and the dolls are for, I imagine, because looking out I count 12 rows that seem to go to the East forever, meaning to me there could very well be 945 "aborted" baby dolls out there.

I go forward, not wanting to get hit from behind while I mull over this scene and those numbers. I pull into one of the empty "Guest Parking Only" spots in front of the church, and look at it. It has the usual American flagpole out in front of it, but it also has a very old kind of steeple.

There is no breeze blowing the American flag out proudly.  It just hangs there in the dark.

I turn around and go back to the main road, and pull over and park on the shoulder of the road to take another look before going home.

Cars pass me with their lights on, and I worry about getting hit again, or "investigated" by the small town police force - who might wonder what I am doing out there so late.  I have a great fear of being shot for no good reason at all.

I want it to be for something when and if I get shot.

Looking out at the stakes now, it crosses my mind that some of them do look like little angels there, flying as if it were, with the stakes but holding them up to flight.

And for the first time I notice that behind them there are three, tall, wooden crosses behind them.  

The middle one for Jesus, and the other two for the sinners which symbolize... all the rest of us.

And I know that these people - this Goodyear Baptist Church - are doing what they think Jesus would have them do, the same Jesus who said, "Suffer the little children to come unto me."

And how can they come... if they are allowed to be killed.

But still the question remains, what about the little children already born who see this sight. And who can't really understand what this is all about no matter how well you could explain it to them.

Or can they?

What is the quote? Raise up a child in the direction you desire... and he will understand? 

I head for home, thinking I will return in the morning to get pictures. If... I am allowed to live that long.

Nothing, not a moment is promised to us.

Something tells me to go home a different way than I came, and I listen to that something.

And as I near a hospital there is a church before it, and it's sign says "Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he will sustain thee."

I am writing, that is my burden, and I will cast it onto the internet... and the Lord will hopefully, sustain me.

Past that sign there is a yellow flashing caution light, then the hospital's emergency room, which is empty tonight, though there is a sign saying "Emergency Room Overflow Parking."

Up in that hospital, is where one of the greatest miracles I have ever witnessed happened.

Up there, is where my daughter was born.  Where God and my wife gave me the greatest present I have ever received, and where the doctor handed my little girl to me, as if she were the greatest, most precious thing on earth. Which she is.

A child. A child that I love with an insane love, a child that I would gladly give my own life for. A child who has grown to be loving, and kind, and wonderful.

A child who is alive and happy... and happy to be alive.

Since that day she was born, my wife and I have lost two other children to miscarriage, and we would have loved to have saved two of those 945 children who are aborted each month in this state, to raise as our own... if only that were possible.

But in Alabama, it is much easier to have an abortion... than to adopt a child.

It takes only moments to end a child's life, but to adopt one takes years, and to take care of one takes a lifetime.

And my time is ending now, while my daughter's is just beginning. Just as it should be.

I am back on the "strip" of Gadsden now, and a sign high in the sky tells me the Dow Jones lost 107 points today - while my very bad math ability tells me that  32 babies were aborted here in this state during the same 24 hours.

I cross the river and pull up to a stop light.  There is a very big red truck next to me, and a woman has her arm and hand out the window. Her arm has 8 bracelets on it.  I can not see her face.  I know nothing about her.

But I would like to ask her, "Did you know 32 babies were aborted today in Alabama?  How do you feel about that?"

That's what a good reporter would do: Ask questions, get opinions.

I'm not a good reporter. I am just a guy who notices while I drive home, that all the drive thru's are still open.

You can still get whatever you want in Alabama - including an abortion - if you want to and try.

And you can get 50 percent of bail bonds if you do something "wrong" if you call "Big John," or get "EZ Payment Plans" at his competitor near by.

But if you get an abortion, it's legal so you don't need a bondsman. All you have to do is pay emotionally, the rest of your life - and just now a memory returns to me, of a young woman I dated long before I got married - who one night out of the blue began crying in my presence.  For no reason at all it seemed to me.

But there was a reason, I just couldn't see it.  She was remembering the child that she had aborted before she met me.  And she couldn't bear the feelings she felt.

But it was too late.  For her, and for that child.  The "choice" had been made.

On the road, here, now, a doctor is offering "Weight Loss" consultation and "Acne RX."

And a pizza with "special toppings" is available right now at half price.

And the liquor store is still open... across the street from a sign that tells how you can "Win $10,000.00 Dollars!"

I start up the dark mountain I live upon, and the left lane ends and all are required to merge right.

A florist is there, when open offering flowers for weddings... and funerals.

And at the top is not a church, but a Christian Health Food Store with tanning beds. (Explain that to me!)

But they have their own sign and it says, "Fear not, rejoice and be glad. The Lord will do great things."

Then there is the elementary school which my child once went to, which also has a lighted sign for the dark night, but which says nothing.  School is out for the summer. And school is always out when it comes to dealing with abortion.

The only ones who seem to be trying to teach us something this night, these days, is somebody or some people at Goodyear Baptist Church.

And some of us are having a hard time, struggling to know, is it ever justified to have an abortion?

And how old should children be, before we force them to face the fact of life, that unborn babies are having their lives terminated - murdered some would say - at the rate of 945 a month in this state alone.

I hate to think, I don't really want to know how many the total is in this supposedly Christian country.

I know it is ALL too many.

I pass one last sign, one pointing to a drug addiction treatment hospital...

and then I pull into my driveway.

No one is home. My wife and child are visiting their relatives in another country.

But my daughter sent me an email earilier, that they are well and she is having fun.

But that doesn't stop the emptiness I feel just knowing that she is not here with me.

And I know without my child in my life the emptiness would be so bad it wouldn't be worth living.

I finish this now, knowing the one thing I absolutely have to do tomorrow - or today, as it is now well past midnight - is to go back and take pictures of what I saw tonight.

So that you can see for yourself what I have seen and tried to tell you about.

And come to your own conclusions about what is right and wrong.

And what you will do about it.

All I can do is write.

And believe that God will do great things.

In all our hearts.

In his own time.

The Morning...

In the morning I did go back and get photos, some of which you will see on this site. And I noticed what I could not see in the dark, that what appeared to be angels wings last night, were really blue or pink ribbons tied on the backs of the plastic dolls. And that when the breeze hits them, the ribbons flutter like little wings.

The dolls are not impaled on the stakes, but tied to them with plastic ties. The dolls are all shapes and sizes and races, and some are very realistic looking "babies." One even appeared to have a birthmark. But others are cabbage patch type dolls, which do not contribute to the realism of the display at all, but detract from it.  They just look silly.

There is no fake blood on the babies, though some are hung in such a manner, as if they could actually be dead.

The price tag was left on the head of one doll, which really detracts from the display, for anyone who really takes the time to look closely as I did.

As I said, the more realistic the "doll" baby, the more effect it has on a person.

I saw one that reminded me immediately of a friend's beautiful little daughter.  What would there life be like without such a joy as they have in her?

Two cars came at separate times to watch me photograph, but only one of them, a man from another church talked to me. He said they were going to write about the display in their church paper.

The people in the other car just watched me, evidently to see if I was going to harm the display.

They got bored and left, when they saw I meant no harm.

And I will close this story by going on the record as saying, I am for the display.

My initial worry was what would children think if they passed by and saw other little children and babies on stakes... and blood.

We seem to forget that most children are so small they can't see out the window of a car anyway, if they are properly restrained in their seats.

And every car that passed was doing over 60 miles per hour, not leaving much time to see anything at all, except the road immediately ahead.

I am for the display.  And when a child is old enough to see it and ask about it, then they are ready to be told the cold, hard facts about abortion.

And begin to make their own decisions.

 

Will Bevis, reporting from

Gadsden, AL 35904

Nextgame@aol.com

June 17, 2009.