CHAPTER 33
Back in Fort Worth, T. J. also had a job to do. He found the cause that would put him in the center of the abortion debate and at the front of the right wing political movement. With Johnny Bob on board, he had to raise the two million dollars plus another half million for expenses. It wouldn't be easy, but he figured he could get it done. After all, wasn't it God's will? He asked his secretary to pull the top twenty pro-life organizations off the Internet. He made the calls himself, figuring that most of them would not turn down a personal call from The Chosen. Out of the twenty, he wanted to get at least ten of the leaders of the pro-life movement to Fort Worth for a meeting in two weeks. Where lawyers were concerned, money talked. T. J. would ensure that Tisdale got the message loud and clear.
T. J. told them only that he had an issue that would serve to galvanize the pro-life forces and highlight the national abortion debate with the idea of making it a central issue of the fall presidential campaign. Fourteen of the organizations accepted his offer of an all-expense paid trip to Fort Worth and The City of Miracles.
They were an eclectic group who came from every geographical area in the United States. They were split equally between the sexes. Anglos predominated. There were three Hispanics and only one African American. Two were wealthy. One thing was absolutely clear. This issue cut across all political, social and economic lines. While these people might differ on other issues, they were united in their fight against abortion.
They represented groups with names like "Save the Babies," "Executives for Life," "Operation Save-a-Life," "Organization to Ban Fetal Tissue Research," "Life is Right," "Give a Child a Chance," "Viva Bambino" and "Christian RIGHT Coalition." Most were sufficiently funded to have a presence in all fifty states.
The meeting was scheduled to start with lunch at noon, followed by an afternoon conference. One by one they arrived. Some were dressed in jeans, some in business-casual attire. Only the director of the Executives for Life wore a three-piece suit. T. J. wanted to use the lunch to size up his guests and to ensure that they would have confidence in him and what he was about to propose. To that end, he turned on the old T. J. charm. As he made his rounds, T. J. settled on four organizations that had potential for big money, one of them being Executives for Life, headed by Walter Thaddeus McDade. A slim man, with silver hair and a matching mustache, he was the former CEO of a Fortune 500 company.
After lunch, the group adjourned to the Governors' Board Room where T. J. called the meeting to order. "First, please let me welcome you to my city and my home. Thank you for coming. I know your schedules are full and a number of you came quite a distance. I appreciate it. As I look around this room I see a great cross section of people with varied ethnic, economic and social backgrounds. We all have a variety of issues and problems that are in our daily lives. The one issue that binds us together is the plague that is upon our land, the plague that takes more babies than all of the diseases of mankind combined. Pharaoh's murder of the first born of the Jews pales in comparison with what we have tolerated in this country. We all know the statistics. Two million babies a year are killed in our society. All of your efforts, worthy though they have been, have not been able to stop the slaughter."
T. J.'s voice rose as it did on a Sunday morning. "It's time that we put the issue under a magnifying glass so that when the sunshine of public opinion focuses on it, the heat will become so hot that it will burst into a flame that will burn throughout America. We want it to destroy every abortion clinic, every abortion rights organization and every murdering abortion doctor in the country."
"Preacher, I've heard all of that rhetoric before," one older woman spoke up. A tall woman with her hair in a bun, she wore no make-up. T. J. recognized her as the leader of one of the most adamant of the invited organizations. She continued, "You're preaching to the choir. Why don't you save all of that for another day and get to the reason that we're here?"
Two other women were offended by her rudeness. Still, they expected it since they had attended other meetings with her. One of them chimed in, "Reverend Luther, we've come a long way and we're willing to hear all that you have to say. Feel free to continue."
"Well now, I certainly do appreciate the points of view of both you fine ladies. Perhaps I can hit a middle ground and satisfy each of you. A miracle occurred in my church recently. Some of you may have seen it on television or read about it. A young lady of seventeen was wheelchair bound." He was careful not to say crippled. "The grace of God shone upon her and He used me as His instrument of healing. That day she walked for the first time in several months. For those of you who did not see it, I'd like for you to see her and witness what happened."
The lights dimmed and the scene on that Sunday morning appeared on a screen. Then, the lights brightened and T. J. continued.
"She became pregnant and made a bad decision. She called Population Planning and was forced into an abortion at their center in Houston. If that wasn't bad enough, things got worse."
T. J. proceeded to tell Lucy's story. Next, he described his plan to attack Dr. Moyo and Population Planning with a multi-million dollar lawsuit. The lights dimmed again and Lucy appeared on the screen.
"Hi. My name is Lucy Brady. Thank you for being here. Thanks to the doctors at Hermann Hospital in Houston and to the healing powers of God and The Chosen, I'm recovering. I want to make sure that no other girl has to go through my nightmare, ever again. My parents and I have joined with The Chosen to launch this crusade against Dr. Moyo and Population Planning. I hope that you'll find it in your hearts to assist us."
T. J. continued. "Like any crusade, this is not going to be cheap. If we can prove an assault and convince a jury to award punitive damages, we can bankrupt Population Planning. Once they realize the battle that they are in, we can expect nothing less than all-out war, not just in the courtroom, but in the national media. We have to be prepared to fight on all fronts and winning is going to be expensive. We've employed the services of one of the best plaintiff attorneys in the country. His office is in Palestine, Texas, a small town about a hundred miles from here. By the way, maybe it is coincidence that our advocate lives in a town called Palestine, or maybe God put him there for us to find. Whichever way it is, he's on board."
T. J. handed out Johnny Bob's resume and a list of big cases that he had successfully handled over the years. "The bottom line is this. We have Population Planning right in our cross hairs. The plaintiff and her family could not be more appealing, and we have the man to take us to victory at the courthouse. To do it, we're going to need two and a half million dollars."
T. J. paused to let the number sink in. Several people around the room looked astonished. Others merely stared at the table. T. J. was pleased to see that three or four continued to meet his gaze, waiting for him to go on. "I know that's a lot of money…"
The same rude woman interrupted T. J., "How do you expect to spend that money?"
"Ma'am, Mr. Tisdale expects this case to take at least two full years out of his life, not counting an appeal that could drag on for another three or four years. His fee in this case is forty percent of any recovery. I've guaranteed him a minimum of two million dollars in advance. Additionally, he estimates that the expenses of this litigation will be a half million. The best don't work cheap. There's one other thing that I should add. I've agreed to lead the national publicity campaign at no cost to anyone. With the power of my pulpit I figure that I can get on just about any talk show in America."
"Personally, Reverend Luther," the woman continued, "I think that if we had two million dollars, we could find better ways to spend it than on a lawsuit. I think you're wasting all of our time. If you'll excuse me, I'm flying back to New York. Count me out." She excused herself and marched from the room.
After she was gone, Walter McDade, the Director of Executives for Life, joined the conversation. He spoke with a deep, resonant voice, one accustomed to commanding attention. "With all due respect to the lady who just le
ft, I disagree with her. Properly orchestrated, I can see this trial rivaling that of the O. J. Simpson case. Lucy, bless her heart, is the perfect victim. From what I hear, Mr. Tisdale certainly is the right man for the job. Seeing that list of cases he's won, I'm just glad that we didn't have to face him when I was CEO of my company. Population Planning, as well funded as it is, may not be able to withstand a multimillion-dollar verdict. My guess is that they probably have a million in insurance and would have to pay the rest out of their own budget. If we can bring them down, you can bet that other doctors and other clinics may quietly get out of the abortion business. Then, there's the courtroom of public opinion. I agree with Reverend Luther. This could be the catalyst that we need to overturn Roe v. Wade. Reverend Luther, I like the idea. Can I inquire as to how much your organization is putting up for this project?"
"Not a problem, Mr. McDade. I've talked to my board and we are in for five hundred thousand dollars. We're hoping that around this table, there's another two million, and please let me point out that if Mr. Tisdale is right, this is nothing more than a loan. He'll be paid by the defendants when he wins the case and collects on the judgment."
The people around the table were pleased by the financial commitment of The City of Miracles. McDade continued, "Reverend Luther, I'm impressed with your conviction in this undertaking. I'll have to go back to my board. With my recommendation, I think that we can match you."
Others began to talk. T. J. went to a chalkboard and started writing down the figures as they expressed what they might be able to do. Nobody came close to T. J. and Mr. McDade. Two people thought that they might convince their organizations to dig deep and come up with one hundred thousand each. Another apologized as he offered ten thousand. T. J. treated him like it was a king's ransom. When everyone had spoken, the total was $2,100,000.
McDade looked at T. J., asking, "You think your lawyer is proud of this case, right?"
"Mr. McDade, from what I understand, he's about as proud as a papa whose daughter was just crowned Miss America."
"Then, I'll tell you what, T. J., I'm a businessman and I know that most people go into negotiations not really expecting to get exactly what they want. Why don't you and I each put up another hundred grand? You go tell Mr. Tisdale that we've got two million, three hundred thousand. That's the best you can do. I know human nature. He'll go for it."
McDade was right. Johnny Bob agreed that the money was close enough. They added a one-paragraph supplement to their contract, changing the amount of the retainer and listing the various organizations to which T. J. would give periodic reports. Four weeks later, T. J. called Johnny Bob to tell him he was sending two checks one for $1,800,000 as his fee and one for $500,000 to be deposited in his trust account for expenses.
After he completed the call to Johnny Bob, T. J. made one more call, this one to a female lawyer in Ohio, the one he had in mind when he told Johnny Bob that he would also provide some talented legal support.
CHAPTER 34
Within three months after he had performed the abortion on Lucy Brady, Mzito Moyo quit Population Planning. It had been his intent all along although it had nothing to do with Lucy. His plan was to do abortions at the clinic only until his obstetrical practice could support his family. It was coincidental that his practice reached that level shortly after terminating Lucy's pregnancy.
When he received the notice letter from the lawyer in Palestine, he was dismayed, although not particularly upset. He knew when he went into obstetrics that he was going into a branch of the medical profession that was at high risk for claims and lawsuits. He had talked to other obstetricians, many of whom had been practicing far longer than he, and they all told him that it was just a part of the practice. Do your best, carry insurance and let the insurance company deal with it, should the need arise. His dismay arose from the fact that this claim was from an abortion and not a delivery. To his knowledge, he never made mistakes at the clinic.
As to a patient named Lucy, he had no recollection of her, no surprise since he usually did fifteen abortions a day. He couldn't be expected to put a name with a face when he was only with the patient for about ten minutes. When he saw the letter was from some country lawyer in East Texas, he concluded that it was nothing more than a nuisance claim. Whoever Lucy was, she obviously couldn't find a lawyer in Houston to represent her. Dr. Moyo put the original of the letter in a file folder and sent the attached copy to his insurance company, figuring that it would either go away or the insurance company would settle the matter for a few hundred dollars. Nonetheless, Dr. Moyo drove home that night, thankful that he had gotten out of the abortion business. He did abortions because they were legal in this country and he needed the money. Never again.
Sixty days later the formal petition was served on Population Planning and on Dr. Moyo. Styled Randall and Joanna Brady, individually and as next friend of their daughter, Lucy Baines Brady v. Population Planning, Inc. and Mzito Moyo, M.D., it was filed in the District Court of Harris County, Texas. The first ten pages laid out the factual scenario, from the rape, to the abortion at the clinic, to the involvement of Life Flight, and the near death experience at Hermann Hospital. It included Lucy's stay in Fort Worth and the miracle performed by The Chosen. It described her future damages, including her emotional scarring and alluded to the possibility that she would no longer be capable of bearing children. After that, it went into the various counts of negligence, referring to the letter from Bud Rusk, M. D. that was attached as an exhibit. The petition closed with the charge that the procedure performed on a minor without her parent's consent amounted to an assault.
Dr. Moyo's receptionist called him to the waiting area to see a visitor.
"Are you Dr. Mzito Moyo?" the deputy asked.
"Yes, sir, I am."
"I have these papers for you, Doctor." He handed the petition over and turned to exit the reception area as he said, "Oh yes, you have a nice day, hear?"
He could feel the eyes of his patients as he folded the petition and stuck it in the pocket of his white coat. Trying to act nonchalant, he strode back through the door to his clinical area where he had five patients waiting. At the end of the day, when the last patient was gone and the last of his staff had told him good night, he sat at his desk and unfolded the petition. As he read, shock began to set in. He could not have done such a horrible thing to a patient. She almost died. Surely not from his hand. As he turned to the letter written by a board-certified obstetrician, his shock turned to panic. Retained fetal parts? A perforated uterus? Profuse bleeding? A staph infection? Septic shock? DIC? Questions raced through his mind. He could understand the possibility of retained fetal parts. But, she never returned to the clinic. Perforated uterus? To his knowledge, in all of the abortions that he had performed a perforation had never occurred. Infection? Didn't she take her antibiotics? Who was this patient?
He went to his calendar to make sure that he had even been at the clinic on that day. He had. As he studied the calendar he remembered that had been the day when he hadn't slept in thirty hours. He was pleased that he had gotten through it without a problem. What was this thing about an assault? Didn't minors have a right to have an abortion in Texas? Didn't the clinic get her to sign the consent form? He didn't remember for sure, but he was certain he would have discussed the procedures with her and would have satisfied himself that she understood what was happening and that the various risks had been discussed with her before he even entered the room. Dr. Moyo slumped in his chair, and taking his handkerchief from his pocket, wiped the sweat from his brow.
That evening he told his wife what had happened and showed her the petition. If a truck had run over him, he didn't think that he could feel any worse. He pictured losing his medical practice, maybe his license; losing his house and cars; having to file for bankruptcy; being thrown out on the street; having all he had worked for since the age of eighteen destroyed. Sleep did not come that night. Following the instructions in his insurance packet, Dr. M
oyo reported the lawsuit to the claims department of Physicians Reliant Insurance Company. He talked to a young lady who asked that he fax the petition to her. The insurance company would hire a lawyer who would answer the petition and would be in contact soon.
***
Population Planning treated the petition routinely. While a lawsuit was not a regular occurrence for the clinic, it certainly was not the first time they had been sued. The director looked over the petition and noted the letter from Dr. Rusk. Otherwise, she calendared the answer date, faxed a copy to their insurance company, and faxed one to Janice Akers, an attorney and one of their board members.
Janice was a former nurse who went to law school in her early thirties and had a solo practice with an office not far from the clinic. Primarily a trial lawyer, she knew her way around most of the civil, criminal, and divorce courthouses. Because of her background as a nurse, she was designated by Population Planning to represent them in any medical malpractice suit. She firmly believed that a woman had a right to choose what to do with her own body, and the government and religious fanatics should stay the hell out of any decision involving abortion. It was for that reason that she had been on the board of Population Planning for ten years. Now in her early forties, as she made the rounds of the various courts in the Harris County Courthouse complex, she still attracted the attention of male attorneys and judges. Not only could she hold her own with any trial lawyer in town, but she also worked out vigorously three times a week, assuring that there was hardly an ounce of fat on her five foot, two-inch frame. She never hesitated in negotiations to speak softly, smile and offer a come-hither look. Yet, if push came to shove, she could push with the best.
So Help Me God Page 17