Getting New Jersey's Urban Residents Organized is in Everyone's Interests

In a blog published earlier this month, I introduced an important but little-appreciated topic that is at the core of what is ailing our troubled inner cities, that being, a lack of empowered community organizations. As crime and poverty continue to stifle New Jersey's urban areas, it must be noted that if we expect the residents of places like Camden, Newark and Paterson to help themselves, they have to have a place to meet. Literally, there are little if any places to gather, talk about issues, prioritize, network and plan, plan, plan. So often we hear from the residents of the Garden State's wealthier suburbs and rural areas (such as Sussex County) that the first step in solving the problems of our inner cities is getting the people who live there to work together. Or more cynically, we'll read posted snippets like "We've been throwing money at these places for years and things just keep getting worse," and even "if more of this crime continues we'll have to call in the National Guard."

Community self-help and activism are not derived some set of magical powers. It takes specific kind of infrastructure, a unique skill-set, lot of work, and a multitude of relationships to get the ball rolling. People need to not only have the abilities to organize and run gatherings, they need a physical location to hold events.

Martin Luther King Jr. at a local civil rights
meeting in the early 1960's 

Suburban and rural communities don't really have this problem. Small and medium-sized informal gatherings, especially those involving both political parties and major civic organizations, take place at community-oriented venues and even Starbucks or some other local coffeehouse. For larger, more formal gatherings, organizations will approach a local hotel, like the Marriott or Hilton, and rent out a meeting room for a day or two. Conveniently situated in these hotels, organizations will typically utilize their kitchens to provide catering and refreshments. Since almost everyone has a car, transportation and free parking aren't a concern. Sure, this costs money, but everyone chips in, or if the organization has deeper pockets, it pays the hotels directly.

These modern-day meeting facilities are specifically designed for their designated functions. They're all equipped with wireless Internet so everyone's smart device is instantly enabled. Power Point presentations and films can be seen on provided overhead projectors. And, of course, we can't forget tables, chairs and lecterns. Additionally, most also have amplifying equipment built-in, enabling anyone to be heard at even the largest gatherings. It's all very convenient.

Political Scientists and historians actually have a name for the culture that's produced by such gatherings: Civil Society. Perhaps the term rings a bell. Civil Society is made up of all of the clubs, organizations and citizen gatherings that aren't part of any formal governmental structure, yet comprise of one of the essential components of any healthy democratic society. Americans used to be famous for it; in the early 1800's, the famous French traveler Alexis de Tocqueville couldn't help but notice it in every region of the young United States he visited. He devoted entire portions of his masterpiece Democracy in America on the subject.  

In these clubs and organizations - and not really in school - people acquire the essential skills of democratic citizenship. People learn how to act like free, responsible individuals - responsible not only for themselves but their communities as well. These skills aren't so much stressed in any of our public schools these days, which have been more or less hijacked by reformy organizations bent on preparing students to succeed on standardized tests.

These essential skills are the stuff that keeps us free. How to recruit members of an organization. How to elect and sustain leadership. How to create an agenda and run a meeting. How to delegate tasks by committee. How to network within and outside of the organization. How to compromise and draft bylaws and resolutions. How to take collective action in the form of a bake sale, a direct-mail campaign, a demonstration, a write-in, etc.  

Okay, so let's return to our inner cities. If people are the "software" for democracy, meeting places are part of the "hardware." But there isn't any "hardware" to be seen, not any more. So what kinds of things can be done to help the residents of our inner cities help themselves? What "classic" and 21st Century solutions are there?

First, our urban residents need to get online. The Internet is the ultimate network for networking. We need to get people emailing, Tweeting, Facebooking and Blogging. Here the State can make a real difference by funding low or no cost municipal WiFi, or wireless Internet. By creating wireless clouds in our urban areas, we'll increase interactivity, reduce crime and bind neighborhoods together. People cannot organize and solve their own community problems if they're not communicating. Municipal WiFi used to be an exorbitantly expensive proposition, but no more. With bandwidth and equipment prices now at historic lows (and heading lower - thanks "Made in China"!), it's entirely possible to "unwire" places like Newark, Trenton, Camden and Paterson. It all doesn't have to be done at once, and there are many ways to fund it without much public expenditure. Put Internet routers on telephone poles, billboards, traffic lights, etc. Get the place humming.

To promote networking and organizational skills, call in the experts. The State could join hands with Non-governmental organizations and service agencies like AmeriCorps and our state colleges to provide classes at local high schools or community centers (do we even have community centers anymore?) on basic managerial skills.

And what about places to meet? Here, the Legislature can help. Pass laws requiring communities to open neighborhood schools after hours so that urban clubs and organizations have a places to gather. Some funding will have to be provided for security and operations, but remember - this entire plan is to make our cities safer by getting urban residents to work together. It would be, more or less, an anti-crime effort. Any financial investment made by the state would have the potential to more than pay for itself if residents can organize and network.

With everything I am proposing, I will admit, there's are no guarantees. But if our urban centers continue to deteriorate, the costs of policing and aiding them will continue to skyrocket. Before we call in the National Guard, before another round of riots on par with 1967 occurs, promoting urban civic organization and activism is certainly worth a try.

Think about it. As I always say, am I on to something here, or is this all just pie in the sky? Should we help our urban residents help themselves? Isn't it time to brush the cynicism aside, and try something different? I look forward to your comments.

How Can Jersey's Urban Citizens Organize if They Have No Place to Meet?

As the online articles of summertime shootings in New Jersey's neglected, jobless and isolated inner cities begin to ramp up, so do the ignorant, hostile comments that adjoin them. To many Internet readers, these forums are either wholly ignored or regarded as more or less useless - being the sum total of random ranters with too much time on their hands. But even from a non-scientific point of view, they do matter, because in some form, they represent documented, and occasionally comprehensive reactions and discussions from concerned Garden State citizens of all kinds. One kind of comment, however, seems to be more common than all the others. For within the collections of comments that state things like "a tragedy for a girl who had her whole life ahead of her," and "minorities continue to ruin places where we used to leave the doors unlocked," there is one that is worth genuine analysis. It varies, but usually states something like "This violence will continue until the people of Newark/Camden/Trenton/Paterson etc. no longer tolerate it." It's an interesting assumption, because not only have I come across it often on sites like NJ.com and NorthJersey.com but I've heard it countless times in other places. Apparently, according to a sizable minority of those willing to publish their opinions on the issue, crime in New Jersey's cities is a result of a lack of civic awareness, pride, activity or organization on the part of our urban dwellers - or all of those things combined. It's worth noting that most posters do not identify where they're writing from, I think it's safe to assume that many, if not all of them, do not live in these depressing cities, rife with crime and poverty. These posters have little idea of the places they're talking about. That's too bad, because you no longer have to physically go to Trenton, Newark, Camden or anywhere in New Jersey to get a feel for its topography. You can simply visit Google Maps and take a virtual walk around the streets, and witness the extent of the devastation firsthand. And if one has even more time on their hands, I believe they can even use Google Maps to view a series of photos of the same places over time, to see how a specific neighborhood, lot, etc. has changed. The problems of New Jersey's urban centers are complex, of course, and go back decades. But as a former Newark Central Ward teacher and resident, I have to be honest here: if you're going to accuse Newark or Camden's people of a lack of civic spirit or capability to organize, you need to look at the physical geography of such places. In short, what kinds of conditions and structures are present that could enable people to organize and, say, challenge poverty, crime and corruption in such cities? It's a good question, because it matters. America's Revolutionaries had their taverns, where they passionately debated and organized against British rule. Abolitionists and later Civil Rights leaders had their Churches, which functioned as vital incubators of organization and leadership. Newark's former Jewish community had huge, active community centers, especially along what was once High Street (Now MLK Blvd.) All of these institutions - and that's what they were - required time, energy, funding and organization - and space. And now, for the most part, they're gone. Swept away in a tide of history and drowned out by poverty. Aside from their homes and places of employment, most of our state's urban residents lack a "Third Place," where they can simply socialize, which in a free society is the first step in tackling any problem as a community. Think about it another way. Say you're a Newark Central Ward resident, and you want to start some sort of Where would you meet? Really, where? A free or low cost Conference Room  is hard to come by in New Jersey's ailing cities council or club or action group. In the 1920's and 30's, many of Newark's great community gatherings took place in its schools. But under the regime of State Superintendent Cami Anderson, whose contempt for all forms of democracy and civic expression is well known, today this is almost an impossibility. In fact, some parent organizers have even been arrested for posting material on school grounds. It's a tragedy, because much of the city's finest physical structures are completely off limits, or nearly impossible to attain, for meeting, debating and organizing. Okay, so what about other publicly oriented businesses like cafes and coffeehouses? Well you can forget about these too. The last coffeehouse in the Central Ward - a Starbucks - closed in 2009. The event was regarded as so devastating that it was even covered by the New York Times. And what about the Churches? Yes, there are still some churches active in our inner cities, but aside from Sunday services, they offer few other services for even their own parishioners. And from a practical perspective, from my years and years of walking around Newark and Paterson, I'd say that most Church buildings are locked and sealed shut during the week. So how are the people of our urban areas supposed to organize if they cannot even find a place to congregate? I hope there are some meaningful replies to this blog...am I completely wrong here? Am I on to something?

How Can Jersey's Urban Citizens Organize if They Have No Place to Meet?

As the online articles of summertime shootings in New Jersey's neglected, jobless and isolated inner cities begin to ramp up, so do the ignorant, hostile comments that adjoin them. To many Internet readers, these forums are either wholly ignored or regarded as more or less useless - being the sum total of random ranters with too much time on their hands. But even from a non-scientific point of view, they do matter, because in some form, they represent documented, and occasionally comprehensive reactions and discussions from concerned Garden State citizens of all kinds.

One kind of comment, however, seems to be more common than all the others. For within the collections of comments that state things like "a tragedy for a girl who had her whole life ahead of her," and "minorities continue to ruin places where we used to leave the doors unlocked," there is one that is worth genuine analysis. It varies, but usually states something like "This violence will continue until the people of Newark/Camden/Trenton/Paterson etc. no longer tolerate it."

It's an interesting assumption, because not only have I come across it often on sites like NJ.com and NorthJersey.com but I've heard it countless times in other places. Apparently, according to a sizable minority of those willing to publish their opinions on the issue, crime in New Jersey's cities is a result of a lack of civic awareness, pride, activity or organization on the part of our urban dwellers - or all of those things combined.  

It's interesting. Though most posters do not identify where they're writing from, I think it's safe to assume that many, if not all of them, do not live in these depressing cities, rife with crime and poverty. These posters have little idea of the places they're talking about. That's too bad, because you no longer have to physically go to Trenton, Newark, Camden or anywhere in New Jersey to get a feel for its topography. You can simply visit Google Maps and take a virtual walk around the streets, and witness the extent of the devastation firsthand. And if one has even more time on their hands, I believe they can even use Google Maps to view a series of photos of the same places over time, to see how a specific neighborhood, lot, etc. has changed.

The problems of New Jersey's urban centers are complex, of course, and go backdecades. But as a former Newark Central Ward teacher and resident, I have to be honest here: if you're going to accuse Newark or Camden's people of a lack of civic spirit or capability to organize, you need to look at the physical geography of such places. In short, what kinds of conditions and structures are present that could enable people to organize and, say, challenge poverty, crime and corruption in such cities?

It's a good question, because it matters. America's Revolutionaries had their taverns, where they passionately debated and organized against British rule. Abolitionists and later Civil Rights leaders had their Churches, which functioned as vital incubators of organization and leadership. Newark's former Jewish community had huge, active community centers, especially along what was once High Street (Now MLK Blvd.)  

All of these institutions - and that's what they were - required time, energy, funding and organization - and space. And now, for the most part, they're gone. Swept away in a tide of history and drowned out by poverty. Aside from their homes and places of employment, most of our state's urban residents lack a "Third Place," where they can simply socialize, which in a free society is the first step in tackling any problem as a community.

Think about it another way. Say you're a Newark Central Ward resident, and you want to start some sort of council or club or action group. Where would you meet? Really, where?

Want to discuss the issues? 

Don't bother arranging a meeting at 

Newark's Starbucks; it closed in 2009.

In the 1920's and 30's, many of Newark's great community gatherings took place in its schools. But under the regime of State Superintendent Cami Anderson, whose contempt for all forms of democracy and civic expression is well known, today this is almost an impossibility. In fact, some parent organizers have even been arrested for posting material on school grounds. It's a tragedy, because much of the city's finest physical structures are completely off limits, or nearly impossible to attain, for meeting, debating and organizing.

Okay, so what about other publicly oriented businesses like cafes and coffeehouses? Well you can forget about these too. The last coffeehouse in the Central Ward - a Starbucks - closed in 2009. The event was regarded as so devastating that it was even covered by the New York Times.

And what about the Churches? Yes, there are still some churches active in our inner cities, but aside from Sunday services, they offer few other services for even their own parishioners. And from a practical perspective, from my years and years of walking around Newark and Paterson, I'd say that most Church buildings are locked and sealed shut during the week.

So how are the people of our urban areas supposed to organize if they cannot even find a place to congregate?

I hope there are some meaningful replies to this blog...am I completely wrong here? Am I on to something?  

Finally, The Possibility of Free, Widespread Wi-Fi: The Signs Are Everywhere

New York Mayor Bill de Blasio has brought the dream of a nearly zero-cost (to taxpayers) wireless New York City closer than ever with a brilliant plan. Admittedly first proposed in the last administration, if successful the proposal will enjoin a private-public partnership system that will install tens of thousands of Wi-Fi hotspots around the city. Access will be free and unlimited, and here’s the kicker – it will be, for the most part, privately funded, and gladly so.

How do they plan to do it? The strategy is two-fold. First, the Wi-Fi routers will be placed on city property that has been leased to advertisers. Billboards, old telephone booths, subway ads, etc. Year after year private advertisers pay millions of dollars to get their names up in public access areas and central commons. Previously, the deal was, pay the city and for a limited time your sign goes up. Signs are expensive too, especially ones that are illuminated. Well, now, the updated deal will be, buy public advertising space and along with your message, your company will be required to purchase and hang up one or two expertly camouflaged Wi-Fi routers to create a local wireless cloud. Equipment prices have plummeted to such lows that, frankly, the system’s costs will be marginal – practically built-in. There will be no huge increases in rates to these advertising firms. The actual network would presumably be run by the city; again, supported by, say, a small additional fee to be paid by advertisers. The actual public network would be ad-free. And once the infrastructure is up and running, additional costs to advertisers will drop to near zero.

Overall, a great idea for Jersey; but there's more. Another source of revenue that could create an instant, funded and installed Wi-Fi network is through a small increase for illuminated sign and tower permits. If a business seeks to construct and display an illuminated sign (even on private property), for a few extra dollars the payer would fund one or two routers adjoining such signage.

Our communities, and our kids, see these every day; 

why not let them double as WiFi hotspots?

Free wifi. Widespread. Readily available. Supported (mostly) by private sources for the public good, and implanted in a ready-made infrastructure. For Jersey, the possibilities are endless. With a little bit of tweaking with the contracts for billboard and other advertisers, we can unleash a long-overdue public resource: Free Wi-Fi. Think about it. How many huge billboards do you see locally? On bridges? Along the Turnpike? Aside tall buildings? How many old phone booths dot our towns and cities? In Newark there must be hundreds of sites, just waiting to be transformed to beacons on the Information Superhighway.

Using this arrangement, Wi-Fi clouds could be quickly established in our cities. Newark, Camden, Jersey City, Union City, New Brunswick…even smaller communities with dense, commercial downtown areas like Kearney, Princeton, Irvington and Belleville would benefit.

Okay, we’ve got this great idea. It’s already beginning to work for other cities. This idea is way outside the box, but it is sure to work, helping to light up our cities in the 21^st century like they were illuminated in the 20^th.

Our effort must be centered on the State Legislature. That is the only statewide authority capable of passing the laws to make this plan possible.

Let’s do this. Let’s have the hard liquor and cigarette advertisers in our cities bring fast, free Internet to our kids. Let’s take those bright signs along Route 1 and bring Internet to motorists and local shoppers. This plan is a no brainer. Do we dare to innovate? Can we still do great things? I believe we can.

The Plot Against Newark: The Great Depression-Era Scheme to Deport A Brick City Minority

New Jersey’s history is more interesting, tragic, triumphant and fascinating than most people know. As a history teacher my students know little about the state’s past, apart from where Washington slept and a few Revolutionary War battles. The more I study the pages of old newspapers, journals and letters the more I realize that the Garden State’s epic and sometimes disturbing past is

Newark charity soup kitchen, 1930's

worth writing about.

When it comes to great writers, Philip Roth is one of Jersey’s treasures. In 2004 Roth published an astounding masterpiece, a novel titled The Plot Against America. Set in a familiar alternate universe of the 1930’s and 40’s, Roth imagines Newark and the U.S. under the presidency of the isolationist Charles Lindbergh, and traces, in suspenseful and masterful style how conditions for Essex County’s Jews deteriorate as Lindbergh’s fortunes rise. Scary stuff, to be sure, but just fiction, right? No one ever, of course, in real life proposed sending a large portion of a state minority off to camps or distant locales?

Tragically enough, various forms of ethnic deportation and cleansing were widely and publicly proposed, from some of the highest levels of Newark’s city government, in the summer of 1932. It was, in short, Newark’s own plot against America. Had it actually worked, sights similar to the coming Holocaust in Germany would have surely panned out on the streets of New Jersey’s largest city, with African-Americans as the target.

We need to paint the scene here, to understand the context of a horrifying proposal that almost came to be. In 1932 the Depression was already in its grinding third year, and Newark, as one of the East Coast’s industrial hubs, was hit particularly hard. The New Deal was still over a year away and no end to the troubles were in sight. Factories closed. The number of the unemployed ballooned and urban aid programs were scant. There was no unemployment insurance, Social Security or Medicaid to speak of. In Newark, most aid to the poor was in the form of free distribution of flour.

Within the Brick City’s economic cauldron, racial hatred festered. New Jersey’s African-American population had grown dramatically in the 1920’s as hundreds of thousands of blacks had fled violence and Jim Crowism in the South for opportunities in the North. In the booming economy of the 20’s many men did find jobs and a better life, but with the Depression, the ebbing tide stranded all ships. Black and White in Newark faced a new, seemingly permanent world of joblessness and desperation.

It was in this atmosphere that Owen A. Malady, Newark’s official “Overseer of the Poor,” along with several allies, proposed a terrifying plan. The city of Newark would act to “deport” or “resettle” most of its African-American residents “back” to the South. More specifically, the plot was that all black residents living in Newark for less than five years would be removed from the city and forced “back to Dixie.”

The scheme was publicly discussed and debated behind the doors of Newark’s stately city hall building on Broad Street. Some of the city’s commissioners wanted prompt action taken by the police, who would apparently engage in mass arrests, processing and forceful relocations. How the city would determine who was to be deported/arrested was never fleshed out. It probably would not have mattered anyway; I’m sure every African-American living in Newark would have been a target.

Though he rejected ‘force’, Malady was intensely determined to make his deportation plan work. He told one paper that he had written public officials, including governors, in Georgia, Florida, Alabama and Mississippi. He even called on local Essex County churches to assist him in his efforts.

Opponents quickly made themselves vocal in newspapers North and South. Writing in the Atlanta Daily World, one Jesse Thomas scorned the plan as regressive, unwise and blatantly unconstitutional. First, Thomas openly wondered why the City of Newark had discriminated in its deportation plans against African Americans? Hadn’t many white people settled in the city over the past half-decade? Additionally, from a logistical point of view, so-called “Southern Resettlement” wouldn’t help anyone, as:

“Practically every city in the South is already taxed to its limit in an effort to take care of those who are now unemployed and living on charity.”

And most importantly, Thomas wrote, why would it matter what region anyone came from who settled in Newark? Doesn’t every part of the nation belong to every inhabitant equally? Of course, Thomas was legally correct. The United States Constitution, in its "privileges and immunities clause," blatantly forbids this kind of regionally-based discrimination. 

Newark, to my knowledge, never did adopt this appalling mass deportation plan. And while the later New Deal programs of the Roosevelt administration certainly eased poverty in Essex County, none of the programs (such as the Civilian Conservation Corps) were ever specifically targeted to help African Americans. Many New Deal agencies actually engaged in racial discrimination themselves. It would take World War II to bring full employment and opportunity back to Newark, but in 1932 that was still almost a decade away (and nobody knew it was coming at the time either).

The Great Depression is over, but the Great Recession is not. Though such schemes for mass deportations of minorities are fortunately non-existent in the United States, they’re currently enjoying resurgence in Europe. There, in nations like Greece and Hungary, Fascists are again on the march and ruthlessly targeting immigrants and Jews. And these Fascists are gaining political power by winning local and national elections. We need to remember, such conspiracies did once visit our shores. We can never let such ideas gain a serious audience again. We’re all in this economic mess, yes, but we’re in it together.

Did Jersey's Pre-1973 Abortion Ban Really Kill Women? The Research Says Yes, Absolutely.

The debate over abortion is one of the central issues in American politics. Actually, abortion brings on a set of questions, one often feeding off another to shape opinions and passions. Is a person created at conception? If so, what rights does a fetus have? When, during the course of a pregnancy, is “personhood” reached or achieved? What is the proper role of the state in regulating abortions? If abortions were again banned, what would be the consequences for the women who would surely seek them?

Frequently, we hear a lot of rhetoric from the pro-choice side pointing to the dangers of banning abortion. If Roe v. Wade is reversed, many say, the reemergence of the illegal abortion industry (as well as dangerous self-inflicted attempted abortions) will occur. These shady practices of the past, according to pro-choice organizations like NARAL and NOW, resulted in illegal abortion ‘mills’ that operated outside the law and accepted medical practice. Modern day abortion advocates continually remind us that women seeking abortions died atrocious deaths at the hands of untrained, corrupt, and greedy quack doctors.

As a history educator with a lot of newfound, electronic access to newspaper and magazine archives, I find myself in the unique position to research the topic. I was interested to see if there is a solid historical record concerning such abortion mills and macabre deaths. Did they exist? Did women really die in any sort of numbers at their own hands or through the botched efforts of medical imposters and frauds?

After just a short search on abortion-related deaths involving New Jersey women before 1973 (the year Roe v. Wade established a nationally based, legal right to a first trimester abortion), I can honestly say, they did. Absolutely. And the deaths, or at least press coverage of them, go back far into our state’s history. How far? Try the 1840’s.

One of the earliest records of this comes from Morris County in the Denville/Rockaway area in November of 1846. According to the National Police Gazette, a popular magazine at the time, a “young” woman by the name of Elizabeth Peer had died as a result of an abortion. The unmarried Peer had gotten pregnant due to a scandalous affair. Fearful of the devastating social consequences, the young woman had approached several local doctors for help in attaining an abortion. One doctor testified that:

“In the month of July, the deceased first visited witness and requested him to produce an abortion. Witness refused. She came again about a month afterwards on the same errand. Witness fully stated to her the dangers…of such an operation. She told him…that she would rather die than suffer the [social]

The Abortion debate provokes 

historical questions

as well as moral ones.

disgrace.”

Eventually, according to court papers, Elizabeth Peer found an abortionist, a woman who ran a rather large and profitable New York City-based operation who went by the name of “Madame Costello.” Costello charged Peer $30 for the abortion – a huge sum at that time.

Peer had gotten the abortion only to succumb a month later to a nightmarish infection and/or hemorrhage. One doctor testified:

“He found her bowels uncommonly swollen - pulse small…vomiting with cold sweat and diarrhea…she then stated she had gone to New York to one of those famous female physician-houses, and that the membranes were ruptured by an instrument…”

There are other reports in later years. An August 1867 newspaper article informs us of the tragic death of one Elizabeth Ball, 28, from a “respectable family” in Newark. Ball had become pregnant as a result of an extramarital affair involving a man the newspaper called her “seducer”, Jacob Wilson. As in earlier stories, Ball was frantic to stop the pregnancy early on, and had traveled to Brooklyn to get an abortion. Before her death she told one doctor that the procedure had cost her $80 – a sum several times the average worker’s monthly wage. Ball had to endure ten agonizing days between the abortion and her passing.

One June 1868 account is particularly disturbing, as it recounts the grisly death of one exceptionally desperate 38 year old, Jersey City area woman and mother by the name of Henrietta Berry. Berry was so distressed to end her first trimester pregnancy that she underwent two self-inflicted attempts. The first was some kind of orally administered concoction, but this failed. The second proved painfully fatal:

“On Thursday she resorted to the use of some kind of instrument, by which it is supposed that the was injured internally, as she immediately grew worse, and although a physician was called in, death resulted in twenty four hours…deceased was 38…and the mother of four children.”

The deaths continued, some right up to the decade before Roe v. Wade. In May of 1963 the pages of The Washington Post revealed a grisly discovery. Angela Lach, a single 26 year old Sayreville educator, was found in a scene reminiscent of a horror movie:

“Miss Lach’s body, sprawled face up in the rain, was found last night in the driveway of a Lutherville (Maryland) estate when the owner returned home.”

Lach, in her first trimester of pregnancy, had apparently traveled from central New Jersey to a Baltimore motel to get an abortion and had not been seen by family since. Upon searching her purse, Police traced the man, a salesman, who had arranged the abortion to a local diner, where they arrested him:

“[Police] described him as a 42 year old traveling salesman who sells kitchen utensils in New York and New Jersey…the salesman said he drove Miss Lach to Baltimore from New Jersey Friday…but insisted that his last contact with her was a telephone conversation early Saturday…He was not charged.”

It was obvious that the abortion went wrong and Lach quickly died, only to be disposed of in a grisly, undignified way.

Over the course of my research I found numerous other New Jersey-based cases, but these three struck me as especially tragic. These women were from all different walks of life. In their desperation to preserve their dignity and control their own bodies they were forced to turn to the most despicable, greedy quacks that operated in places such women would have never otherwise visited, from back rooms in Brooklyn to cheap, seedy Maryland motels.

These women, their sufferings and ultimate demise are part of the historical record. Believe what you want about the central questions of abortion today, but their deaths were definitive results of a state where legal, safe abortions were impossible to get.