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"In 1988, two-thirds of the doctors polled by the American Medical Association reported being involved in decisions to withhold or withdraw treatment, and the American Hospital Association estimates that seventy percent of hospital deaths now occur because of family and medical termination of treatment. In response to these statistics, courts in twenty states ruled on the right to die, the Supreme Court of the United States recently confirming the constitutional basis of that right.

"The law can, and must, take into account aspects of our changing society. Religion depends on prayer, medicine on technology. But when our religious views become so entrenched and our medicine so sophisticated, we all simply must recognize a basic truth. Each and every one of us has certain rights of person, certain rights of spirit, that neither religion nor medicine nor a government supportive of both should be able to take away. Such is the basis of the right to abortion – "

Hisses and boos jumped out all over the room, vying with applause.

"Such is the right to sexual preference – "

More noise.

"And such is the right to die. To determine for oneself that the time has come when prayer is no longer availing, when the medicine that can prolong life can no longer improve it. I believe it barbaric to force our elderly, our infirm, our comatose and their respective families to continue to suffer when a veterinarian would be reviled for not bestowing a parallel mercy on a similarly situated dog or cat.

"I began tonight by saying that I killed my husband, but there is a difference between cruelly killing someone with kindness and mercifully killing that person kindly. Let me close by describing to you what my husband's life would have been like without my helping him. He was fifty-two years old, he had suffered a stroke. A doctor himself, he knew that the only possible prognosis was irreversible deterioration. His condition cost him his native tongue; cost him the ability to move his limbs, to swallow, to sit up, even to control his bowels. He was no longer a tenth of the vital, loving, caring person he'd been all his life. The alternative to my helping him would have been months of humiliation and pain, both mental and physical, and toward what end? To set some sort of unofficial record for suffering in a sport where everyone insists upon adherence to the rules but no one rewards those who try the hardest. Please, let us reconsider together, unblinded by religion or logic, and simply endorse what is right and fair and appropriate: the ending of life when life has ceased to be what any of us would call living. Thank you."

Sincere applause, growing as Andrus reached her seat. She looked down into the sashed area, smiled, and nodded. I could see Tucker Hebert flash her a thumbs-up.

Olivia Jurick returned to the podium. "Thank you, Professor Andrus. I'd now like to take questions. If you have something to ask, please raise your hand. I believe everyone will be able to hear a bit better if you stand while putting your question. Uh, yes, ma'am, you, please."

An austere woman with straight hair the color of chrome rose and began to speak with Locust Valley lockjaw. "I think it obvious to any rational person that tonight's debate has demonstrated the absolute bankruptcy of the so-called Dukakis 'Massachusetts Miracle' which was always a function of Reagan administration deficit spending on the Commonwealth's defense contractors."

Del Wonsley said, "A wild-card favorite."

As Jurick leaned into the microphone to interrupt, the austere woman said, "That's all I have to say," and dropped back into her seat.

Jurick quickly pointed to an older man with short gray hair. Standing awkwardly and wearing a cardigan sweater, his voice was raspy.

"Professor Andrus, my daughter was sick and got ahold of your book." He held up a copy by the binding. "Three weeks later she went and killed herself. How do you feel about that?"

A number of people in the audience gasped. Alec Bacall smiled grimly. "Off to the races."

Jurick didn't seem to know what to do as moderator. Maisy Andrus never left her chair. "Since I don't believe I knew your daughter, sir, I – "

"Her name was Heidi. Heidi Doleman. Now you know."

I came forward in my seat. I couldn't see any bulges over Louis Doleman's hips, but that didn't mean he wasn't carrying up front for a cross-draw.

"As I was about to say, Mr. Doleman, since I don't believe I knew your daughter, I don't know what to think of her death. If she was suffering, I hope that you and any other loved ones supported her in what she believed to be best."

"Weren't any other loved ones, Professor. Just Heidi and me. But you've said just about what I thought you would."

As Doleman sat back down, Olivia Jurick nearly sighed in relief over the mike. She pointed to a teenage girl directly between us and the stage.

The girl wore a pink beret over sandy hair. "Professor Andrus, do you think it's right for little babies to be taken from the womb and killed before they get asked whether or not they're ready to die?"

Grumbling and shushing in the audience.

Again from her chair, Andrus said, "We're not here tonight to argue for or against abortion, but yes, I think the woman carrying the fetus has such a right, though it is intellectually distinct from the right to die."

The girl raised her voice over more grumbling and less shushing. "I'm not asking you intellectually, Professor. I'm asking you morally. Is it right to kill that baby'?"

From the lower left section, a black female voice said, "Answer the child."

Andrus said, "I've already given you my best answer on that."

Reverend Givens cut in. "Child, you want my answer on that?"

Reluctantly, I thought, the pink beret said, "Sure."

"Well, my answer is simple. You kill that baby, and you'll never forgive yourself. You'll never in your life forget. You have that baby, and somebody will give it a fine home and a good upbringing."

Gun yelled out, "What if it comes out half black?"

Givens shaded her eyes with her hand, and others in the audience turned to glare at Gun, then turn away as he and his cohort gave them the finger. The salt-and-pepper police team looked at each other and started forward.

Givens said, "I can't see you, but I'm guessing from the tone of your voice you're the type that does better wailing from the darkness than speaking in the light."

A solid round of applause. The cops hesitated, then went back to the wall and crossed their arms.

Givens said to the pink beret, "Child, however that baby comes out, you come see me if you have any troubles about it."

More applause as Olivia Jurick gratefully pointed to a well-dressed older black man.

"Dr. Eisenberg. Can you tell me, Doctor, how all of us are going to be able to afford keeping all these patients alive while you and your friends at the hospital get upward of five hundred dollars a day?"

Eisenberg winced. "That's, uh, more a question for a hospital administrator than a doctor."

"But you're the one's been saying it here."

"Yes, well, you see, it's not really you who pays for all that. The insurance companies do."

"Out of the goodness of their hearts, huh?"

"Well, no, no, of course not. From premiums they collect and investments they make. But – "

"And who be paying those premiums, Jack?"

Del Wonsley said, "Right on."

Jurick said, "I wonder if we could have another question? Yes?"

The black man shook his head in disgust as he sat back down. Jurick's finger pointed to Walter Strock.

Strock rose, Kimberly watching him as if he were the Hope diamond. "Two questions, if I may. First, for Professor Andrus. Professor, earlier you referred to a constitutional 'right to die'. Now, you'll certainly agree that the Supreme Court of the United States in the Cruzan case established only that a patient has the right to decline life-sustaining medical aid. I wonder, where in the Constitution do you encounter the right to life – terminating assisted suicide?"