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RETTA TRIES FOR ‘SAVES’ EVERY WED. MORNING

Four to one.

Every Wednesday morning, at the Planned Parenthood abortion mill at 16th and L streets in Northwest Washington, D.C., it takes four “pro-choice escorts” to guard against one Dick Retta.

Actually, over the course of the morning it will take 10 to 12 “deathscorts,” as the pro-lifers have dubbed them, taking over from one another four to a shift, to man the ramparts against the retired father of seven and grandfather of nine.

The formidable Retta is armed with a clear plastic bag, suspended by a strap around his neck, crammed with pro-life leaflets, pink and blue mission rosaries, and several sets of baby booties.

The deathscorts’ mission, despite Dick’s being on public property, is to physically block him whenever he tries to talk to a potential customer and to prevent him from offering her any written material.

Dick, who has been coming here every Wednesday since March 2004, calls his attempts to reach abortion-minded women headed for the mill “counseling on the fly.”

While the deathscorts step in front of him and talk over him, he has a few seconds to make his case.

“I usually say something like, ‘Please let me help you!  We have a lot of help available for anyone who is pregnant and thinking of abortion.

“‘Abortions are dangerous – women can die or be injured for life, and maybe never be able to have a baby again. Let your baby live, for your own sake.  Your baby wants your love, not death.’”

Dick also tries to talk to the boyfriends, mothers or other persons accompanying the women.

“They have a waiting room for them, but very often the men will come out for a smoke, to put money in the parking meter, or go get something to eat,” he explains.

Often two or three men will be waiting around in front of the building.

“I talk to all three of them,” says Dick.  “Usually, at least one will say, ‘Get out of my face!’ he admits with a grin.

Lately, almost every week there has been at least one “turnaround” or “save.”

On April 26 there were three.

The first, a young woman accompanied by her mother, rushed past so quickly, Retta barely managed to hand her a leaflet.

The last thing he said to her before the mill door closed behind her was, “Let your baby live for your own sake.”

Fifteen seconds later, both mother and daughter came out.

The mother told a stunned Retta, “Score one for you!”

Her daughter had changed her mind on the spot, she said.  The mother accepted a pair of baby booties, then hurried after her daughter as the girl raced ahead of her.

The second save took a little longer.

As a young woman hurried toward the mill door with what appeared to be her mother and father, Retta gave his usual “counseling on the fly,” and was able to hand a leaflet to the father.  

Through the glass lobby door, he could see the man put the leaflet in his pocket.

Twenty minutes later, the father came out and talked to the deathscorts, but refused to talk to Dick.

A half-hour later, all three came out – for good.

“We’re not going to do it,” the mother told Dick.

The third turnaround involved a young couple.  Dick hadn’t even seen them go in, but tried to talk to the young man when he came out, and got nowhere.  The man insisted that his girlfriend had the right to make the decision, and walked down the street.

Thirty minutes later, the girl came out and got on her cell phone.  She ignored Dick’s efforts to talk to her and give her a flyer.

Then her boyfriend came back.  They talked for awhile and then left together.

“They didn’t talk to me, so I don’t know for sure if they changed their minds for good,” said Dick.  “The baby’s life was extended, but we don’t know for how long.”

But he says that the ones who leave that he’s not sure about, he has never seen come back.

There are no saves on the following Wednesday, May 3.

Perhaps 15 women come in for abortions.  They come walking or are driven up, accompanied by boyfriends, girlfriends or mothers

Most are black, with a sprinkling of whites and Hispanics (Dick carries leaflets in Spanish, and uses a little of his high school Spanish to communicate).

Some take flyers, most ignore Dick, some yell at him, “Just leave me alone!”  None stop to listen.

As the morning wears on, Retta talks to three of the boyfriends when each comes out, often walking along with them to the corner of 16th and L.

With one, a young black man in a white t-shirt, he turns the corner and continues down L Street, deep in conversation.

The young man tells Retta he doesn’t want the abortion, but he can’t get his girlfriend to change her mind.

Halfway down the block, a tall, blonde woman passing by overhears their conversation.

“Don’t do it!” she implores the young man.  “I had an abortion and I still regret it.”

Dick gives him a pair of baby booties.

“What’ll I do with these?” he says.

“Go back in and give them to her,” Dick advises.

The boyfriend goes back in the building with the booties.

Back in front of the mill, a thin, gray-haired deathscort greets Dick effusively.  “I missed you!” she says with a big smile.

“Many of them try to be friendly,” he confides later, “so you can’t help trying to be friendly in return, but without compromising your position.”

Despite their friendly smiles, the deathscorts often deride Retta’s efforts, but he doesn’t give an inch on his stance or his efforts.

Sometimes passersby give the deathscorts the “thumbs-up” sign and say, “Keep up the good work.”

Retta always goes after them.  “They’re not doing good work!” he tells them.  “They kill babies and they ruin women’s lives.  What kind of a human being are you to call that good work?”

This happens with a well-dressed foursome, two men and two women.  They’re wearing name tags, apparently on lunch break from a conference.

When Dick confronts them, three of the four are highly amused, and laugh and scoff at him.

“I read in the Bible that God is pro-choice,” one of the men says with a smirk.

But one of the four, a pretty redhead with an Australian accent, is sympathetic.

“I can understand your point of view,” she says earnestly.  “The pro-choice side has gone too far, with abortion for any reason at all – and they have weakened the family.”

The other three find her earnestness hilarious, and turn their ridicule on her as they walk off.

The young black man who had accepted the booties comes out of the building again.  Retta walks down to the corner with him, where they stop and talk for several minutes.

The man hands the booties back and gravely shakes Dick’s hand before he walks away.

“He said it’s a done deal – it’s too late; she’s in the back now,” Dick reports.  “I gave him a Project Rachel flyer.”

Doesn’t he ever get discouraged?

In response, Dick tells a story about Msgr. Philip Reilly, founder of Helpers of God’s Precious Infants.

Once, leading sidewalk counselors in New York, Monsignor Reilly stayed at an abortion mill for almost five hours.

When a woman came out after all that time, Monsignor went over to talk to her about post-abortion healing.

Before he could say anything, the woman asked him, “Why are you here?”

His answer was, “I’m here because of love.  I’m impelled to be here because of love for you, love for your baby – I’m impelled by the love of Jesus Christ.  I have to be here.

“Then he said, I’m sorry you had an abortion.”

The woman replied, “I was in there for over four hours, and all I could think of was you people out here praying.

“I finally put it all together.  I got off the table and walked out.  Father, I didn’t have the abortion!

“Always be here – be here for the woman that comes after me and the one that comes after her.  It’s a wonderful thing that you do.  God bless you for what you do.”

“So, we’re here driven by love,” Dick explains.  “I have to be here.”

Retta began his work at abortion mills in the spring of 1998, praying the rosary at the Cygma mill in Kensington, which closed in 2000.

He started sidewalk counseling at Hillcrest Northwest on Georgia Avenue in January, 2001.

He works with two pro-life groups, Lifeguard, based in Arlington, Va., and WAKEUP, of Washington, D.C., as well as the Capitol Area Pro-Life Coalition.

“Things appear to be slowing down,” he admits.

Back in 2001, a weekly Saturday rosary novena at Hillcrest Northwest from May to July was well-attended.

Retta believes that it led to the closings of Hillcrest Northwest and the Hillcrest Southeast mill on Pennsylvania Avenue in the spring of 2004.

“It’s not that dynamic now; we’d like to have more people,” he says.

Area pro-lifers are trying to promote more activism through their churches.  Dick has been working with St. Raphael’s Church in Rockville.

In the meantime, every Wednesday, from 9 a.m. to 1:30 or even 2:30 p.m., he can be found at his station in front of the 16th Street mill, pleading with reluctant mothers to spare the lives of their babies.

“I’ve said as many as 20 rosaries here in one day,” he says with a smile.