Editor’s Note: Kansan Correspondent Ashley Barforoush attended the March for Life with St. Lawrence Catholic Church. This is her account of the event.

“What page did we make, Father?” St. Louis junior Andrew Schaeperkoetter asked.

It was the day after the march. Eighty students, three priests and three sisters from the St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center, 1631 Crescent Road, were preparing for the 22-hour bus ride home from Washington, D.C.: exhausted, cold and fulfilled.

“Page three,” the Rev. Mitchel Zimmerman replied. “Not bad for the USA Today.”

Rachel Schieber, Kansas City, Mo., junior, read aloud from the article: “‘This year marks the 35th anniversary of the ruling that created a right to abortion.’” Schieber abruptly looked up. “Nice try,” she said, “but abortion is not a right.”

On Jan. 22, tens of thousands of people showed they agreed by participating in March for Life, an anti-abortion protest. The U.S. Supreme Court’s decision to legalize abortion in the 1973 Roe v. Wade case sparked the annual protest, which its supporters vowed to not end until abortion did.

During this year’s protest, men held signs that read, “I regret lost fatherhood,” and marched next to women with signs that read, “I regret my abortion.” They marched aside families and the elderly, who marched next to Schieber. She marched for her four — soon to be five — siblings who waited for her at home.

“I think people just need to educate themselves,” Schieber said. “Life really does start at conception. Science proves it.”

The rally before the march proved that many politicians were on their side — President Bush and U.S. Rep. Ron Paul included. Students listened and cheered through two hours of speeches, huddled together for warmth. When U.S. Sen. Sam Brownback was introduced, the front rows of protesters exploded into applause. University of Kansas students made certain their state wasn’t forgotten.

“Remember our enemy isn’t the abortion doctors. Our enemy is death, despair and fear,” Brownback said. “If you save one life, you save the world.”

With Brownback’s words settling at the back of Amy Haeusser’s mind, the march began.

“Some people are all talk,” said Haeusser, an Overland Park sophomore. “I think it’s important to back up talk with actions.”

Talking was scarce at the protest, except for the occasional chant.

“What do we want?”

“Babies!”

“How do we want them?”

“Alive!”

The protest was peaceful. A whisper of the Hail Mary prayer constantly drifted through the rows of people, as far as the eye could see. Screaming was not necessary — the protest signs said it all. Jaclyn McAnarney, Wichita sophomore, was raised anti-abortion and held a sign attesting to that fact.

“I had a chance at life,” McAnarney said, “so I feel an obligation to stand up for those who didn’t.”

She almost didn’t participate in the march, thinking that one person couldn’t change the law.

“But if everyone said that, then no one would march,” McAnarney said.

Philip Jennings, Overland Park sophomore, went on the march for similar reasons. The only thing that made him different from McAnarney was belief in the Catholic faith.

“The closest I come to calling myself anything is agnostic. While I do believe there is a God, I haven’t gotten much further than that,” Jennings said. “You don’t have to be religious to be pro-life. I don’t see how a person can accept science and believe in life, yet still support abortion with a clear mind.”

They marched for hours past D.C.’s buildings filled with glaring businessmen. However, most would agree the most difficult part still awaited them.

“It’s hard to express yourself on campus because others often don’t feel the same,” Haeusser said. “Going on the march proves that we’re not standing alone.”

­— Edited by Jessica Sain-Baird