Guest writer Carolyn Marie Fugit is a native Kansan involved in social justice for over a decade. In addition to volunteering for ProKanDo, she has worked extensively in LGBT rights advocacy. Since Dr. Tiller’s assassination, there has been renewed interest in Kansas for pro-choice advocacy, and she is working to organize that energy to defend women’s rights. She regularly blogs for The MAD Voter.

Scott Roeder may not have been acting as a dues-paying member of any incorporated anti-abortion organization, but he was not acting as a “lone wolf” when he put a gun against George Tiller’s head and pulled the trigger.

On July 28th, I attended the preliminary hearing for Roeder, accused of assassinating Dr. George R. Tiller. I was joined not by Dr. Tiller’s family (they had told the media they had “confidence in the courts”), not by his friends or co-workers, and not by leaders of the local anti-abortion organizations. Instead, I sat with six others, some from Wichita, all familiar with the big names. They casually talked about Troy and Mark, how they had read Paul’s book, and how long they had known Scott. And while one of them recognized me as having laid a flower at Women’s Health Care Services the day of Dr. Tiller’s funeral and another knew I wrote for a progressive blog, they still spoke right by me about justifiable homicide.

They read the New York Times’ article “An Abortion Battle, Fought to the Death,” passing it back and forth during the hearing. One read a Bible at times. Another read an anti-abortion book, stopping at one point to ask me the definition of “utilitarian.” She asked me if I had any “little ones,” as she was expecting her tenth. I told her that I did not, but was looking forward to fostering. She did that, too, but unofficially. The day of Dr. Tiller’s funeral, she had a sign at his clinic that said, among other things, “Murderer not Martyr” and “60,000 babies dead.” “I’m nice to everyone!” she told me.

As the hearing commenced, I hardly recognized Roeder. He was clean cut, his hair trimmed and combed. He was growing a moustache. He wore a grey suit and red tie, hands unbound with shackles around his ankles, clacking lightly as he walked. He usually sat straight up in his chair, a wooden chair typical of Perry Mason, different than the executive maroon chairs his attorneys reclined in. Two public defenders were assigned to him, both men. The other side of the courtroom sat three women, District Attorney Nola Folston and Assistant DA’s Kim Parker and Ann Swegle. [Read more...]