GUEST COLUMN - Joanne Hatton
This fall's season premiere of Law and Order, one of TV's best police and courtroom dramas, peered into the seamy world of black market adoptions. The story centred on a middle-aged American couple who think they have adopted a healthy Russian newborn, only to discover she is actually a malnourished two-year-old with multiple health problems. They resell her to an unsuspecting couple three days before the baby dies. All the characters involved-the baby broker, the doctor who signed the health certificate and the adoptive parents-argue that they did what was best for the child. None accepts any responsibility for her death, nor will they admit that money motivated their actions.
The same extraordinary capacity for wilfill denial was on display in an Edmonton courtroom last month, during a wrongful dismissal suit that pitted nurse Linda Steeves against her former employer, the Morgentaler abortion clinic. The case ended in a mistrial after only a half-day of testimony and argument but in those few hours the court heard some startling evidence that said much about the abortion industry and those who work in it.
The clinic no doubt would have preferred that the proceedings went unnoticed. And they would have but for the nagging presence of John Gardner, the facility's perpetual picketer. Clinic director Susan Fox and its lawyer, Ray McKall, spent 90 minutes trying to bar the soft-spoken pro-lifer from the courtroom. They argued that various injunctions they have obtained to keep Mr. Gardner away from their clinic also applied in the courtroom. Court of Queen's Bench Justice James Lewis was sceptical, and asked for proof. The trouble was, no one had a copy of the injunctions.
The proceedings took a mildly farcical turn when Mr. McKall turned to Mr. Gardner and asked if he had a copy of the documents. Not surprisingly, he was disinclined to be helpful, but he spent a few minutes rummaging around in his own legal files, stuffed in a Safeway bag. Eventually, the exasperated judge called a recess and sent the court clerk off to search the court-house files.
A half-hour later, three boxes and a binder containing the Gardner files were delivered to the courtroom. The clerk looked askance at the stack of paper and the proceedings resumed. Mr. McKall began reading from several different actions and injunctions dating back to 1991. Mr. Gardner, the court learned, was not allowed near the clinic, the homes of a doctor and nurse, and could not interfere with clinic business in the province of Alberta or anywhere else." Mr. Justice Lewis was unimpressed. "We do not conduct clinic business here," he said. "We conduct legal matters."
Mr. Gardner stayed.
With the Gardner sideshow resolved, the case began in earnest. Ms. Steeves' lawyer, Simon Renout explained that his client had joined the clinic in 1991. He described her as a loyal employee, dedicated to the work of providing abortion services, even when it meant getting past Operation Rescue protestors trying to bar entry to the clinic. The employer seemed pleased with her too. Twice in 1991, shortly after the clinic opened, Henry Morgentaler promoted her. Head nurse Sue Jamieson gave her a positive appraisal in her first and only performance review. Ms. Steeves gave up two casual nursing jobs after being reassured by Ms. Fox that she would have flill-time work at the clinic.
Within a year, however, the relationship began to sour. Ms. Fox and nurse Jamieson began harassing Ms. Steeves and criticizing her work, she said. She began to feel nauseated on the way to work. She was alternately ignored and threatened by her superiors and was, once, reprimanded for making tea for Roy Sadgrove, an abortionist. Ms. Steeves' testimony painted a picture of a stressfiil, oppressive working environment. On one particularly harrowing day, she said, a patient who "had a rough time" following her abortion was feeling nauseous and faint. Ms. Steeves tried to comfort the woman by puffing her in a bed in the recovery room and bringing her a glass of juice. This upset nurse Jamieson, who chastised her underling and reminded her that patients were expected to get their own juice. Their discomfort was no excuse to break policy. Later, the woman was in such pain that nurse Steeves alerted the doctor. They returned her to the operating room, but as they were examining her, Ms. Jamieson threw open the door and angrily asked what was going on. Ms. Steeves recalled that the patient was very upset and embarrassed, and the doctor and head nurse argued briefly.
By the fall of 1993, it was clear to Ms. Steeves that her bosses wanted her out. She came to work one day and found her desk cleaned out and her personal effects removed. They were never returned to her, she said. By then, she had no job alternatives because health cutbacks had been imposed.
The case was aborted after a lunch recess when lawyer McKall discovered, while reading through the Gardner documents, that Mr. Justice Lewis had once worked at the same law firm as Ellen Ticoll, the lawyer who applied for the clinic injunctions. The judge, finding himself in a potential conflict of interest declared a mistrial.
Similar incidents have been documented at other Canadian and American clinics. They arise because, like the characters on the Law and Order episode, everyone in the abortion industry depends on euphemism and denial. The procedure, which stops reproduction, is called "reproductive healthcare." Its defenders call themselves "women's advocates," but they refuse to inform their female patients about the serious physical and psychological effects of abortion. They bemoan the shortage of willing doctors yet often despise those who earn their livelihood from abortion. Clinic doctors and nurses often report nightmares and many admit they cannot look at the tiny body parts in the pan after the abortion.
Public exposure strips the pretence and threatens the industry. It forces clinic workers to confront the truth of what they do. And it reminds the rest of us, who would really prefer not to think about it that this " service" really is what its critics say it is - slaughter.
-Joanne Hatton is president of Alberta Pro-Life.