Services for victim of religious terrorism
June 7, 2009
Doctor Who Was Shot in Church Is Buried
By DAVID BARSTOW
NY Times
WICHITA, Kan. — George R. Tiller, the Wichita physician who was shot
dead in his church last week, was remembered at his funeral Saturday as
a man of courage who showed uncommon grace in the face of constant
challenge to his medical practice, which included late-term abortions.
“He is in a much better place now, a safe place, a place where he is
free,” said Dr. Tiller’s son, Maury, who did not need to remind anyone
at the service that his father rarely went in public without a
bullet-proof vest.
Dr. Tiller’s death leaves in doubt the future of Wichita’s only
remaining abortion clinic. It also leaves even fewer options for women
around the country who are seeking late-term abortions. But for the most
part, Dr. Tiller’s funeral focused less on his work than on his life
with his family and friends.
The word abortion was never uttered, nor were there any recriminations
against the anti-abortion groups who for nearly two decades had tried in
vain to put him out of business through relentless protests and an array
of legal actions.
Instead, the mourners sang “A Mighty Fortress is Our God” and read the
prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi. Dr. Tiller was recalled as a man who
loved Elvis, Johnny Cash and the University of Kansas, who had a
weakness for James Bond and bad jokes, who gave 25 years of service to
Alcoholics Anonymous, who was called “Tuna” by his fraternity brothers
because he was such a good swimmer, and “buddy” by Jeanne Tiller, his
wife of almost 45 years, because they were best friends.
“Dear God, get heaven ready, because Mr. Enthusiasm is coming,” Larry
Borcherding, a friend of nearly 50 years, said to laughter. “Heaven will
never be the same.”
Dr. Tiller’s oldest daughter, Jennifer, told of how she and her family
and her parents had spent the week before the shooting at Disney World.
She described her father, in sandals and white ankle socks, wearing far
too much sunblock, spending the final days of his life at play. “He was
just a normal guy,” she said.
Security at the service was tight, with dozens of uniformed and
plainclothes officers mingling inside and outside College Hill United
Methodist Church.
Hundreds of mourners streamed into the church, quickly filling the main
sanctuary, which seats about 800. Hundreds more, including women who had
once been Dr. Tiller’s patients, packed an overflow room, with dozens
more crowded in the church hallways.
Most carried white carnations and wore a button that read, “Attitude is
everything.” The button held special significance. Dr. Tiller, a lover
of axioms, had worn a similar button for more than 25 years.
At the front of the sanctuary, beside a framed photograph of Dr. Tiller,
was a large wreath that framed a simple sign, “Trust Women.” The family
also announced the establishment of the George R. Tiller Memorial Fund
for the Advancement of Women’s Health.
On the sidewalk outside, several dozen women, including the civil rights
lawyer Gloria Allred, lined up in what they called a “Martyr Guard” to
protect Dr. Tiller’s family from being exposed to any protesters.
Yet while the death of Dr. Tiller, who was 67, brought a quick
condemnation from the White House, prominent Kansas politicians were
hard to spot at the funeral.
Representatives of the major anti-abortion groups in Wichita were
nowhere to be seen either, although a dozen or so abortion opponents
gathered in a holding area a few blocks from the church.
One protest sign read “God Sent the Shooter,” an apparent reference to
Scott P. Roeder, the anti-abortion campaigner who has been charged with
first-degree murder in Dr. Tiller’s death.
Inside the church, near the end of the service, Mrs. Tiller rose and
from the altar sang “The Lord’s Prayer” in a clear, strong, unwavering
voice.
She dedicated it to “my best buddy and the love of my life.”
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Another victim of religious terrorists...
I hope the federal investigation into this murder casts a wide net,
finds facts of a conspiracy, and ends up in lots of indictments, trials,
and prison sentences.
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