Karen – Not Guilty!

          Wichita papers read, “Abortion Protester Vindicated in Jury Trial … Sheriff’s Deputy was found to have issued an unlawful order in an arrest that sent a 20 year-old girl to the hospital…” Karen was among a small group of protesters holding signs in the grassy public pedestrian right-of-way outside the Coliseum entrance on March 14, 2003. Here, Deputy Simpson ordered Karen to move back 100 feet from the Coliseum driveway. But Karen had stood there before at that location previously exercising her First Amendment rights without any problems. Why was this time any different?

     Karen has been going to abortion clinics since she was about six years old. Her dad would make cardboard signs to string around Karen and her sibling’s necks saying, “We are glad to be alive.” This was an every-Saturday event for the Myers family. Even at her young age, Karen remembers people were changing their minds and babies were being saved just from reading their signs.

     Karen’s grandmother, Ellen Myers, was a cofounder of “Right to Life of Kansas,” a pro-life organization formed in the 60s before Kansas legalized abortion in 1969. Ellen Myers, a survivor of the Holocaust who became a Christian when she came to America, remembering the horrors of the Jews, saw the same evils in the act of abortion. The ministry of the Myers family continues through Karen.

     “When I was five years old, I saw a picture of an actual aborted baby. I knew it was wrong even then. My mom and dad aren’t the kind of parents that hide things from their kids. They told us about abortion and that it was wrong.” Karen has been involved with the pro-life movement most of all her life. “Operation Rescue has changed my life. I’ve learned to value human life as your own, even though it isn’t your own life being taken.”

          Karen always arrived at the designated venue an hour or so before an event or concert to engage in outreach. Cher, a strong voice for pro-abortion, was in concert at the Coliseum, so Karen and others from her outreach team really wanted to be there to share the message of pro-life. The poster in Karen’s hand read, “Hurting after abortion? call 1-800-401-6494,” a post-abortion counseling number.  “Move 100 feet back,” shouted a deputy. Without warning, Karen felt him twist her arms twice into a double-hammerlock.  As he jerked her back and forth, it felt like her arms were being torn off. “I thought, ‘This is like a really late-term abortion,’” she says.  She begged him to stop hurting her. Then he slammed Karen to the ground, pushing all of his weight against her small-framed body, smashing her face into the dirt. Afraid for her life she pleaded, “Please stop hurting me.”  No rights were read. No indication that she had even been arrested or deserved handcuffs. Karen was unsure of what was really happening to her. She cried out in pain. Were her arms broken or dislocated?. Firey-hot sensations ran up and down her shoulders and she knew she was injured. Deputy Simpson forcefully dragged her Karen over to the landscaped entrance of the Coliseum, shoving her down. She was hurt. Here, she begged for paramedics to come to her aid, as her arm continued to swell and throb. With dried dirt and tears covering her cheeks she waited an hour for medical help, watching the concert spectators traffic pass her by just staring. But in those moments after being badly beaten, Karen felt the presence of Jesus with her like never before.

     Ten months had passed and Karen was at another pro-life outreach. Officials said it was perfectly legal to be there, but asked to run a routine ID record check. After this, Karen was shocked to learn there was a warrant out for her arrest. Deputy Simpson had filed charges against her five months after the concert, without telling her. She had no idea she was summoned any kind of violation.  

       After receiving  counsel, Karen decided to turn herself in and serve her time in jail, even though she was not guilty. It was a horrible afternoon and more difficult than Karen had imagined. Placed in a large holding cell, Karen took the opportunity to witness to the other women there. The guards didn’t like this and pulled her out to harass her.  Sexual innuendo and perverse language filled the air.   Alone in a 4 x 4 ft punishment cell, she only had room to stand. The cell wreaked of human excrement and vomit. Sticky walls of the punishment cell surrounded her until her paperwork was corrected. It was a long four hours.

    Finally, Karen got a trial date, although she never received a standard hearing first. Feelings of persecution continued, as she tried to get answers to her wrongful arrest. After many calls to Christian lawyers, none would agree to represent Karen in court. The case was against the county, and it was risky. “We aren’t going to take your case. You won’t win,” kept ringing in her ears.

    Karen tried to formally file an assault and battery charge against Deputy Simpson, but was told she could not do because he was an officer.  Her arm needed therapy and she was still in severe pain. She had to quit her job because the pain was so unbearable. Emotional scars, panic attacks, and nightmares followed.   Phone call after phone call, she sought justice talking with lawyers and legal advisors, trying make sense of everything.

     Out of desperation, Karen called a contract lawyer. He knew a criminal defense attorney who agreed to help fight the county. Hard days followed as she prepared for her trial. Finally, an out-of-state Christian legal group promised to assist.

     Seventeen months after the assault, Karen went to trial. Relieved, yet apprehensive to relive the trauma of the event, she faced the jury, knowing two members were strong pro-abortion advocates. The horror of the night of the Cher concert came flooding back and Karen had to compose herself to respond to the questions and interrogation. She knew lots of people were praying for her. “As I walked in the court room, peace filled my heart. I knew even if I were found guilty, God would take care of me and His will would be done. Even though my future was in jeopardy, I was able to trust Him with the outcome.”

     On the second day of her trial, Karen would hear her verdict. She knew the county had declared her guilty but prayed the jurors would see the truth. Seeing Deputy Simpson caused her to start shaking. The facts he reported under oath were false and contradicted the true circumstances. Karen could only hope the jury could discern the truth.

     The verdict came late in the afternoon. The jurors walked in the courtroom and wouldn’t look at her. Karen tried to stay calm and not lose hope. Then, as she heard the words: “NOT GUILTY” relief and an incredible weight lifted from her whole being. All the months of uncertainty were finally over. She knew her life wasn’t really in the hands of the jurors. God was her Counselor and Advocate.

     As Karen left the courtroom, one of the pro-abortion jurors looked into her eyes, smiled, and winked. Tears flowed down Karen’s face. She knew justice was served, but also knew that God pierced the heart of a woman who was against all that Karen believed. It was all worth it.

According to my earnest expectation and my hope, that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but that with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether it be by life, or by death. For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. –Philippians 1:20-21

Tracey D. Lawrence

Powered by CityMaker.com