Kathy Forck remembers the first woman she convinced. Shannon sat crying on a curb in the parking lot of Planned Parenthood in Columbia more than a decade ago. Forck guesses she was about 20 years old.
Forck offered her a bottle of water, a technique she continues to this day.
The woman told Forck her fear of telling her parents she was pregnant. Forck said her daughter faced a similar situation, pregnant at 17.
“It’s a lot easier to tell your mother that you’re pregnant than that you just aborted her first grandchild,” Forck said. That’s why today, Forck has a 28-year-old grandson.
Shannon’s eyes got big, and Forck knew the line worked as the father approached.
“They looked at each other like, ‘We’re going to do this. We’re going to have a baby,’” Forck recalled.
Months later, Forck invited Shannon to the biannual rally for 40 Days for Life, a nationwide Christian organization whose members stand outside of abortion clinics twice a year for 40 days. Members of a church gave Shannon gifts and money. Forck held Shannon’s son in her arms.
That was when abortion was legal in Missouri.
The heat bearing down in early October reminds Forck of Arizona, where she raised four kids and made a career selling Avon beauty products. In the 1980s, when her sales reached $200,000, Avon flew Forck to the Waldorf Astoria in New York City to receive the “Women of Enterprise” award.
These days, when Forck tells people what she does, they hesitate to respond. “Oh,” they say, surprised.
With the words “Sidewalk Advocate” spread across the back of her bright blue reflective vest, Forck stands on the sidewalk in front of Planned Parenthood for hours, as she has on innumerable weekday afternoons for 16 years. A sunflower peaks over the wooden fence of a community garden across the street. Cars fly past on four-laned Providence Road.
“Ugly bitches!” someone screams from a passing car. Forck doesn’t flinch. She compares this sidewalk in front of Planned Parenthood to Golgotha, where the Bible says Jesus was crucified. A crucifix hangs from Forck’s neck.
In the fight to restrict access to abortion in Missouri, Forck’s side has won. For decades, Republican lawmakers worked in lockstep with anti-abortion advocates. Missouri became the first state to enact a trigger ban outlawing almost all abortions in June 2022, hours after the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade and ended the constitutional right to abortion. The state’s ban has an exception for medical emergencies. There are no exceptions for rape or incest.
State laws made accessing an abortion nearly impossible before the ban. By 2022, laws targeting abortion providers had whittled the number of clinics down to one, Planned Parenthood in St. Louis. State law required people seeking an elective abortion to pay for an ultrasound, receive counseling and wait 72 hours between an initial in-person appointment and the procedure.
Forck was a plaintiff in a lawsuit that briefly removed Amendment 3 — which aims to enshrine the right to abortion until fetal viability in the Missouri Constitution — from the Nov. 5 ballot.
If Amendment 3 passes, state laws restricting access won’t automatically be overturned. A series of gestational bans will block access after eight weeks of pregnancy. If courts block that ban, a 14-week ban will kick in, then an 18-week ban, 20-week ban and finally a ban at viability. Abortion access proponents are prepared to challenge restrictions prior to fetal viability.
The Columbia clinic, where Forck holds vigil, hasn’t offered abortions since 2018. The clinic offers birth control, testing for sexually transmitted infections, emergency contraception and other services. Still, Forck eyes the movement of cars and people in the clinic’s parking lot. She said her concern for women's safety brings her back week after week.
"The reason I come is because of the women, because I really care about them, and I want them to be safe," she said.
Her first move is to offer plastic bottles of water to those who walk from their car to the clinic or back. Her collapsible wagon sits in the strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street. A sign sticks out of the wagon that reads “Pregnant? Need help?” next to it another sign that reads “40 Days for Life.”
If someone shows interest, Forck makes sure to shake their hand. It’s an important step in establishing a connection. With the water comes a shiny red gift bag with a small bottle of grapefruit body wash, two packs of Skittles, a magazine and cards with the name and numbers of organizations that offer alternatives to abortion. Some thank Forck before moving on.
“Go spend y’all’s time at a foster care center,” one woman hollers from her car.
Forck hears the sentiment frequently. People volunteering at animal shelters aren’t asked to go work at a food bank instead, she says, so why should her work be any different?
"This is our ministry," she said. "This is what we feel called to do.”
