In May 1995, I bought, at auction, the office equipment of the national office of Operation Rescue. It had been seized earlier that spring to help settle a $1,000,000 legal judgment against Operation Rescue for its role in trying to close down the Planned Parenthood clinic in Houston.
The office equipment included six computers. When the constables arrived to seize the equipment from the national office of Operation Rescue, an office person attempted to destroy the material on the computers, but had only eliminated the most recent operating system. Using an older operating system, the entire contents of the six computers was discovered. One of the items we found on the hard drives was the diary of anti-abortion clinic protestor. He was called a “missionary to the pre-born” and it was part of his job to update people who provided monthly support to him.
The diary was chilling. It tells, matter of factly, his daily labors -- of how he would stand outside a Dallas clinic and yell “murderer” to the doctor as he arrived. Though Operation Rescue claimed they did not do it, he was writing down the license plate numbers of all the cars who pulled into the place. One night, he came back and went through the garbage that had been left out. He followed the office secretary to the bank where she was making a deposit and then demanded that the bank not accept the “blood money.”
It takes many pages, but he describes how he and others, using several cars and over many days, succeed at following a doctor home. The doctor lived in a gated community, but through deception and persistence, they get in and discover where he lives. When we read this in 1995, we immediately notified the doctor.
This “missionary” also found ways to divert women coming for abortions to the anti-abortion “clinic.”
On the day I bought the equipment, I was a nervous wreck. My partner, who was too well known to Operation Rescue to attend the auction and buy the equipment, handed me Pepto Bismal with one hand and mace with the other. (Mace is legal here in Texas.) I didn’t know what to expect at the auction, but having been victimized by Operation Rescue’s pickets at both home and at the church where Bruce was a minister, I was anxious.
Arriving at the auction, I was relieved to see Dallas county constables everywhere. And when I was the successful bidder, they closed in around me to prevent anyone from Operation Rescue getting near me. One man tried to come up to me. The constables had forcefully to pull him back. He kept turning to me and shouting something like “I just want to make sure you are right with Jesus the savior.”
“That’s between me and Jesus,” I called back.
That man, wanting me to get right with Jesus, was the diary keeper – who spent his days harassing women and health professionals.