I found this old post I had written awhile back and never posted. It begins to touch on the social awkwardness of my youth which ultimately lead to the formation of this blog. Anyway, here is a little Morton Family History.
I grew up in an extremely anti-abortion Christian family. My father was heavily involved in the "Operation Rescue" movement which led to our family spending most weekends outside of an abortion clinic. I learned to love protesting and I learned to hate abortion. At the age of 12 I started "Rescuing" (blocking doors to abortion clinics so that patients could not get in) right next to my dad. If you want to see a bunch of riled up heathens, let your 12 year old take a stand against abortion. I couldn't begin to count how many times I heard someone yell out "Your parents are brainwashing you"…yeah, whatever.
My mother spent a couple years (approximately) picking up a group of kids every Wednesday and driving them down to an abortion clinic on Broadway where we would stand out with our signs and take a lot of abuse. I have 3 fond memories of these Wednesday trips (actually 4, but now that I am married I shouldn't mention how much I enjoyed getting crammed next to Jessica Zimmer in my mom's minivan)…anyway, those three memories in no particular order are:
- Having a dirty diaper thrown at me from a car passing by. It missed by a mile.
- Being told every week by a complete stranger that they "wish my mother would have aborted me"…to which I would often respond, "She's standing right there, you can take it up with her".
- When Portland Trailblazer Danny Ainge drove by, stopped his car, honked and waved!!! I still get goosebumps thinking about it. Later, during our homeschool English class my mother had us write letters to Danny thanking him for his support. A couple weeks later my brothers and I all received autographed pictures of him. I still have mine and consider it to be one of my most prized possessions (us homeschoolers are easy to win over).
When you are insulted as much as the Morton Family was, and for such a long and consistent period of time you begin to get tough skin. Combine that with the fact that we were home-schooled and didn't actually have any friends that weren't named Morton and you can begin to see where the social issues would start to set in. In fact the most outgoing activity that we ever did were these Wednesday Protest Trips.
I'm struggling now to remember some of the signs we used to hold…Abortion Stops a Beating Heart…Be A Hero Save a Whale, Save a Baby Go to Jail (which my father did frequently)…then there was always someone holding the extremely grotesque picture of an aborted baby (Hey Mom, I've got some real anxiety issues related to seeing or hearing about sickness… and this bloody fetus is helping at all!)
Anyhow, i don't want to drag this story on for to long and by now you may be wondering how we avoided a life of bombing abortion clinics and instead chose a life of anti-CBC blogging…well, the truth is…CBC is far more fun to pick on than those pesky Pro-Choice'ers. And really, a protest is a protest… I love them all…I do miss dodging diapers though.