Roe v Wade | This Happened to Me
How the Tragedy of Abortion Taught Me a Lifelong Lesson
A child’s experience of injustice
Warning: This story is a true account of abortion.
The café
In 1968, when I was sixteen, I worked in a café in a mall on Thursday nights, Saturdays and during school holidays. My mum was the catering manager for the mall, and she worked us hard.
There were a couple of us high-school kids who worked in this particular café. A permanent waitress, Carol, was given the added job of supervising the café, and us, for extra pay.
Carol, all of us, worked damned hard for our money. It was good pay for high-school kids, but pathetically little for adults trying to buy houses, cars, raise kids.
I had few cares at sixteen. I resented having to wear an ugly pink polyester uniform, and tie my hair back like a dork. I hated scrubbing tables and chairs clean of bird shit in the rooftop part of the café. I disliked walking four flights down to the bakery and back up with heavy wooden trays of freshly made iced donuts and chocolate eclairs.
At sixteen, I thought little of anything except flashing cheeky smiles at the boys who came to the rooftop for milkshakes and a ride on the…
