questions. If you have
something to ask, please raise your hand. I believe everyone will be
able to hear a bit better if you stand while putting your question.
Uh, yes, ma'am, you, please."
An austere woman with straight hair the color of
chrome rose and began to speak with Locust Valley lockjaw. "I
think it obvious to any rational person that tonight's debate has
demonstrated the absolute bankruptcy of the so-called Dukakis
'Massachusetts Miracle' which was always a function of Reagan
administration deficit spending on the Commonwealth's defense
contractors."
Del Wonsley said, "A wild-card favorite."
As Jurick leaned into the microphone to interrupt,
the austere woman said, "That's all I have to say," and
dropped back into her seat.
Jurick quickly pointed to an older man with short
gray hair. Standing awkwardly and wearing a cardigan sweater, his
voice was raspy.
"Professor Andrus, my daughter was sick and got
ahold of your book." He held up a copy by the binding. "Three
weeks later she went and killed herself. How do you feel about that?"
A number of people in the audience gasped. Alec
Bacall smiled grimly. "Off to the races."
Jurick didn't seem to know what to do as moderator.
Maisy Andrus never left her chair. "Since I don't believe I knew
your daughter, sir, I — "
"Her name was Heidi. Heidi Doleman. Now you
know."
I came forward in my seat. I couldn't see any bulges
over Louis Doleman's hips, but that didn't mean he wasn't carrying up
front for a cross-draw.
"As I was about to say, Mr. Doleman, since I
don't believe I knew your daughter, I don't know what to think of her
death. If she was suffering, I hope that you and any other loved ones
supported her in what she believed to be best."
"Weren't any other loved ones, Professor. Just
Heidi and me. But you've said just about what I thought you would."
As Doleman sat back down, Olivia Jurick nearly sighed
in relief over the mike. She pointed to a teenage girl directly
between us and the stage.
The girl wore a pink beret over sandy hair.
"Professor Andrus, do you think it's right for little babies to
be taken from the womb and killed before they get asked whether or
not they're ready to die?"
Grumbling and shushing in the audience.
Again from her chair, Andrus said, "We're not
here tonight to argue for or against abortion, but yes, I think the
woman carrying the fetus has such a right, though it is
intellectually distinct from the right to die."
The girl raised her voice over more grumbling and
less shushing. "I'm not asking you intellectually, Professor.
I'm asking you morally. Is it right to kill that baby'?"
From the lower left section, a black female voice
said, "Answer the child."
Andrus said, "I've already given you my best
answer on that."
Reverend Givens cut in. "Child, you want my
answer on that?"
Reluctantly, I thought, the pink beret said, "Sure."
"Well, my answer is simple. You kill that baby,
and you'll never forgive yourself. You'll never in your life forget.
You have that baby, and somebody will give it a fine home and a good
upbringing."
Gun yelled out, "What if it comes out half
black?"
Givens shaded her eyes with her hand, and others in
the audience turned to glare at Gun, then turn away as he and his
cohort gave them the finger. The salt-and-pepper police team looked
at each other and started forward.
Givens said, "I can't see you, but I'm guessing
from the tone of your voice you're the type that does better wailing
from the darkness than speaking in the light."
A solid round of applause. The cops hesitated, then
went back to the wall and crossed their arms.
Givens said to the pink beret, "Child, however
that baby comes out, you come see me if you have any troubles about
it."
More applause as Olivia Jurick gratefully pointed to
a well-dressed older black man.
"Dr. Eisenberg. Can you tell me, Doctor, how all
of us are going to be able to afford keeping all these patients alive
while you and your friends at the hospital get
something to ask, please raise your hand. I believe everyone will be
able to hear a bit better if you stand while putting your question.
Uh, yes, ma'am, you, please."
An austere woman with straight hair the color of
chrome rose and began to speak with Locust Valley lockjaw. "I
think it obvious to any rational person that tonight's debate has
demonstrated the absolute bankruptcy of the so-called Dukakis
'Massachusetts Miracle' which was always a function of Reagan
administration deficit spending on the Commonwealth's defense
contractors."
Del Wonsley said, "A wild-card favorite."
As Jurick leaned into the microphone to interrupt,
the austere woman said, "That's all I have to say," and
dropped back into her seat.
Jurick quickly pointed to an older man with short
gray hair. Standing awkwardly and wearing a cardigan sweater, his
voice was raspy.
"Professor Andrus, my daughter was sick and got
ahold of your book." He held up a copy by the binding. "Three
weeks later she went and killed herself. How do you feel about that?"
A number of people in the audience gasped. Alec
Bacall smiled grimly. "Off to the races."
Jurick didn't seem to know what to do as moderator.
Maisy Andrus never left her chair. "Since I don't believe I knew
your daughter, sir, I — "
"Her name was Heidi. Heidi Doleman. Now you
know."
I came forward in my seat. I couldn't see any bulges
over Louis Doleman's hips, but that didn't mean he wasn't carrying up
front for a cross-draw.
"As I was about to say, Mr. Doleman, since I
don't believe I knew your daughter, I don't know what to think of her
death. If she was suffering, I hope that you and any other loved ones
supported her in what she believed to be best."
"Weren't any other loved ones, Professor. Just
Heidi and me. But you've said just about what I thought you would."
As Doleman sat back down, Olivia Jurick nearly sighed
in relief over the mike. She pointed to a teenage girl directly
between us and the stage.
The girl wore a pink beret over sandy hair.
"Professor Andrus, do you think it's right for little babies to
be taken from the womb and killed before they get asked whether or
not they're ready to die?"
Grumbling and shushing in the audience.
Again from her chair, Andrus said, "We're not
here tonight to argue for or against abortion, but yes, I think the
woman carrying the fetus has such a right, though it is
intellectually distinct from the right to die."
The girl raised her voice over more grumbling and
less shushing. "I'm not asking you intellectually, Professor.
I'm asking you morally. Is it right to kill that baby'?"
From the lower left section, a black female voice
said, "Answer the child."
Andrus said, "I've already given you my best
answer on that."
Reverend Givens cut in. "Child, you want my
answer on that?"
Reluctantly, I thought, the pink beret said, "Sure."
"Well, my answer is simple. You kill that baby,
and you'll never forgive yourself. You'll never in your life forget.
You have that baby, and somebody will give it a fine home and a good
upbringing."
Gun yelled out, "What if it comes out half
black?"
Givens shaded her eyes with her hand, and others in
the audience turned to glare at Gun, then turn away as he and his
cohort gave them the finger. The salt-and-pepper police team looked
at each other and started forward.
Givens said, "I can't see you, but I'm guessing
from the tone of your voice you're the type that does better wailing
from the darkness than speaking in the light."
A solid round of applause. The cops hesitated, then
went back to the wall and crossed their arms.
Givens said to the pink beret, "Child, however
that baby comes out, you come see me if you have any troubles about
it."
More applause as Olivia Jurick gratefully pointed to
a well-dressed older black man.
"Dr. Eisenberg. Can you tell me, Doctor, how all
of us are going to be able to afford keeping all these patients alive
while you and your friends at the hospital get
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