THE ABORTION HOLOCAUST

 

 

In Dietrich Von Hildebrand's fight against the Nazi's he lamented how the German people had become accustomed to the evil ideologies Hitler espoused. They were used to the "Rivers of Blood" which flowed from the concentration camps. They had come to terms with "pure" evil.

 

The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM) is the United States' official memorial to The Holocaust. Adjacent to the National Mall in Washington, D.C., the USHMM provides for the documentation, study, and interpretation of Holocaust history.

 

Since its dedication on April 22, 1993, the Museum has welcomed nearly 30 million visitors, including more than 8 million school children. It has also welcomed 91 heads of state and more than 3,500 foreign officials from over 132 countries.

 

The USHMM’s collections contain more than 12,750 artifacts, 49 million pages of archival documents, 80,000 historical photographs, 200,000 registered survivors, 1,000 hours of archival footage, 84,000 library items, and 9,000 oral history testimonies. It also has teacher fellows in every state in the United States and has welcomed almost 400 university fellows from 26 countries since 1994.[2]

 

Researchers at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum have documented 42,500 ghettos and concentration camps erected by the Nazis throughout German-controlled areas of Europe from 1933 to 1945.[3]

 

This narrates what has been covered by the United States concerning the Nazi Holocaust:  Let us now examine what the United States has failed to cover concerning the American Holocaust:

 

58,972,015 documented abortions since 1973 (millions more not reported)

 

2,176 death camps and countless medical suites murdering babies. 1.21 million abortions per year

 

The practice of falsifying legal medical documents to the DHH Office of Vital Records and the medical malpractice and fraud involved in sending forms to the DHH that were pre-printed with pre-printed question responses checked off, signed and completed prior to seeing any patients is tantamount to the largest travesty of justice ever perpetrated by a branch of the medical establishment under the guise of Women's Reproductive Healthcare. The consequences of this fraud are staggering and all this with governmental complicity.

 

Millions injured by infections, adverse drug reactions, uterine perforations, hemorrhage, STD's, loss of limbs, emergency hysterectomies, deaths. The cover up of child molestation and sex traffickers, using abortion clinics to continue their abuse of minors. The falsification of millions of reports to the Department of Health and Hospital regarding the age of the father of the baby who impregnated the minor going in for an abortion. 

 

"Houses of Horror" where babies are murdered outside the womb after abortion attempts and put into freezer's as specimens of the horrendous carnage.

 

Babies murdered both in the womb and after birth; sold in the market place for medical experimentation and organ transplantation.

Millions of undocumented abortions due to abortionist's falsifying reports to the DHH and CDC.

 

Death Camps, surgical and chemical abortions, sterilizations, contraceptives and IUD's peddled throughout the world by Planned Parenthood leading to billions of babies murdered worldwide.

 

Billions more killed by chemical abortifacients and contraceptive abortifacients. This is just a tip of the iceberg. The statistics are staggering, yet we echo Stalin's sentiments: "The death of one man is a sorrowful tragedy, the death of a million is merely a statistic".

 

"That we never forget!" Over 200 million dollars were spent to build the memorial in Washington D.C. to expose the German Nazi Holocaust while at the same time the U.S. government has taken billions of taxpayer dollars to kill innocent babies through Planned Parenthood and the abortion cartel; all the while covering up their crimes!

 

When the Nazis switched from machine-gunning their victims in large mass graves to marching their victims through gas chambers at Auschwitz, the gas that they employed was a chemical called Zyklon-B. Zyklon-B was developed by a small chemical company owned by IG Farben, a major supplier for Auschwitz and other death camps that funded many of the experiments undertaken by Mengele and other SS doctors. IG Farben profited handsomely because of the increased use of Zyklon-B. IG Farben's name became virtually synonymous with the holocaust and unethical medical experimentation. So, after the war, this company underwent a name change and it became Hoechst AG.

 

However, a Nazi by another name is still the same and, today, a subsidiary company of Hoechst AG is the developer and main producer of RU-486, the so-called 'abortion pill'. The ghost of IG Farben is still haunting us by allowing killers to again distance themselves from their deeds. But Hoechst AG is not the only chemical profiteer in the abortion industry.

 

Borrowing from the IG Farben playbook, Upjohn Pharmaceuticals stock prices doubled when it announced the development of a vaginal prostaglandin-suppository marketed specifically for abortion.

 

Abortion clinics are the modern day concentration camps. How many tears does Our Lord have to shed over the blood of these murdered children before America and the world repents of this senseless and brutal murder of babies and debasement of mothers. Wiesel spoke: "I swear never to be silent whenever human lives endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim.

 

In the Old Law there were cities of refuge to which the guilty could flee for safety; in the New Law, The Immaculate Virgin Mary’s mantle is for us that citadel of refuge for our sinful souls which also obtains for her children sincere and heartfelt conversion with the remission of sin through Our Lord Jesus Christ in the sacrament of confession.

 

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam,

Richard Mahoney

 

 

 

        For the sake of His Sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world        

 

 

American Holocaust Memorial Memorial

By Shannon Baldridge

 

On Friday, July 10, 2009, I visited the American Holocaust Memorial Museum located at 4829 Bennington Ave. in Baton Rouge, LA. I visited it with some of my Crossroads friends I’d made: Jonathan Gordon, Melody Louviere, Avery Balsiger, and Lauren Thompson. A photo journalist, Albert Cesare, and his younger brother, James, a seminarian, also accompanied us along with someone Albert and James brought with them who I was never officially introduced to.

 

I had been afraid to go because I had seen from internet pictures that it was going to be pretty gruesome and I don’t handle blood and gruesomeness very well at all. I used to grow faint in my school science classes when they would discuss the circulatory system, that’s how sensitive I am. I was afraid to go, that I would grow faint and ill and need to be carried out and cause a scene that would be embarrassing to me. I always hated that feeling whenever there was a story or an image involving blood or wounds or surgical procedures…the tunnel vision, the hearing that faded out and fuzzed, the lightheadedness, the cold sweat and lack of strength at all to even stand. I didn’t want that to happen so I dreaded visiting that place.

 

Crossroads asked to go though so I agreed and thought maybe it would be easier if I went with friends who could distract me maybe. I made arrangements and feared what might happen but I was going to be brave this trip and do things I had never done before. This side trip would be no different. I was going out to struggle and face new challenges.

 

I entered the museum that had once been an abortion clinic and had been bought and left much as it had once been to show what these clinics were all about on the inside. Immediately I was met with a huge gruesome picture on the floor of an aborted infant and up came the wall to protect myself from being overwhelmed by the gruesomeness that would lead to my fading and faintness. I kept my horror at an arms length from me so I couldn’t feel anything too intensely. I only let a small amount of feeling through and what I felt was horror and revulsion. I was so distracted by my own personal concentration to avoid becoming ill that there was little room for anything else or to truly absorb what I was witnessing. It all seemed so surreal.

 

The last room I went into was a make-shift chapel of sorts. It wasn’t anything official but there were some statues and flowers and nice religious pictures and 3 kneelers. Lauren had already taken the far kneeler and so I thought it might at least be a good idea to pray. I couldn’t seem to let the place into me because of my fear so I thought at the very least, I could kneel in this room that was safe from the horrible surgical instruments and gruesome photographs in all the other rooms and pray for all that had happened in that cursed place. I took the middle kneeler and I hadn’t even finished settling myself yet when I finally cracked open my shell to reach out to God in prayer for the first time since I entered that place. I hadn’t even formed a coherent prayerful thought yet, it seemed the moment I opened myself up to touch God, a very strange thing happened to me that has never happened before.

 

Without warning I immediately began to sob and weep. I didn’t see it coming at all. There was no lump in my throat ahead of time, there was no sense that tears might be coming that I might have to control. It hit me hard like a wave and I was completely unprepared for it. It wasn’t any small little sniffling quiet crying either, it was body shaking deep sobbing crying. It overwhelmed me completely and I was helpless to stop it. The tears poured out of me and the body racking sobs came one after the other as though the flood gates had been opened to some unknown and unnamed tidal wave.

 

I rarely cry in front of others and when I do, it is usually a quiet and suppressed crying. This strange and out-of-control crying unleashed in front of these people with me was unthinkable to me. Even as I was kneeling there sobbing, I was in complete wonderment at myself and what was happening to me. I couldn’t  understand it at all; it made no sense to me. I could feel the sadness and pain pouring out of me and going through me but it was not of me at all. There was me and my feelings of relatively small sadness by comparison and then there was this strange and foreign thing passing through me whose sorrow was so great it shamed me for my pitiful sadness doled out with an eyedropper by comparison.

 

I could tell by the way it kept pouring out of me that it wasn’t slacking off at all and wouldn’t.  I couldn’t contain it, couldn’t hold it back, and couldn’t manage it. I got the feeling that ifl didn’t do something; this sobbing wasn’t going to stop on its own. It was never-ending and unceasing. After what must have been a long time already of my crying, I began to struggle to put up the wall I had entered with …the wall that had cracked a tiny bit when I opened myself to prayer and let in this wildly grieving presence. It took a lot of work but as I fought to put up my resistance again, the sobbing finally began to subside.

 

I decided to quickly walk through the surgical rooms one last time because having been shamed by the enormous sorrow working through me, I wanted to feel something of my own that might be comparable to it. I felt like I should be crying like that for what had happened there because of my own feelings and sorrow at the great loss of life here but those intense feelings didn’t come to me from my own self. I felt sad for them, but nothing like what I had touched, what had passed through me. It was a strange sensation, to actually experience the wild grief of someone who was not myself firsthand.

 

The crying didn’t completely cease until I had left the building. The crying I had just done was the sort of crying I would have done if someone had just told me one of my parents or siblings had just died. It was completely foreign and inexplicable why or how this had happened to me; that I should weep so uncontrollably for children I had never seen or met. It was a very terrible thing that had happened there but my feelings inside were not matching the sorrowing agony expressing itself through me. My own grief, which was very real and present in its own way, was a pale shadow by comparison.

 

The entire event completely baffled me and had me wondering at it. Even now, the more I think of it, the stranger it is to me, the less and less it makes sense to a world of practicality and sense and empirical observations. After thinking on it in my heart for several days now, I believe I was somehow manifesting the great sorrow that God and Mary feel for the devastation that took place there. I always knew that it hurt God immensely that we would kill our own children but to touch it myself and feel it working through me was another experience entirely. I had never experienced something like that before but I was grateful that the Holy Spirit allowed me to touch the great sorrow and realize the immense pain He feels over the holocaust. I cannot explain it or why it happened to me but I guess God felt it was important that I experience firsthand his overwhelming sorrow over the loss of his beloved children.

 

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam,

 

 

 

        For the sake of His Sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world        

 

 

 

On entering the death camp, she entered the rooms where tens of thousands of innocent

babies were brutally tortured and murdered. She gazed at the table where the mothers'

laid to abort their children and this is what she saw:

 

 

I saw despair lying there; lying there in the faces of women who could not accept

love really exists and if it did, it would never exist for them!

 

 

I saw anger lying there; life was seen as a loveless, joyless proposition, whereas

murder was even better!

 

 

I saw helplessness lying there; helpless women herded toward abortion by family

or friends who believed their duty was to allow nothing outside their own pleasure to live!

 

 

I saw laughter lying there; the laughter of women who thought life was a joke!

 

 

Abortion clinics are the modern day concentration camps where women are driven by the tide of their own sins, anger, fears and despair. You can rip a baby from its mother's womb but not from its mother's heart. How many tears do mothers have to shed over the blood of their murdered children before America and the world repents of this senseless and brutal debasement of mothers.

 

America needs to come to grips with the stark reality that they have perpetuated a holocaust against innocent babies in the womb and begin repentance by offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass in atonement for this Holocaust and for babies murdered in the holocaust. 

 

 

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

 

The cliche, "If you cannot be a shining example to your children, then you will at least be a great warning to them," can be applied

to our baby-booming narcissistic generation. We have passed on the torch of death to Generation X, the "Death-Roe" generation.

 

No one in America born after January 22, 1973 was entitled to "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." As with the condemned

at Auschwitz, their life or death was at the whim of another. Yet this time, instead of the Gestapo, one's own mother was

the executioner. Margaret Sanger and Planned Barrenhood (alias Planned Parenthood) have unleashed a worldwide culture of

death in peddling impurity, contraception, abortion, and genocide.

 

Like Anne Frank, I too have a story. A story of hardship, sorrow,

long-suffering, and death. Yet through all the darkness the light of

truth, though eclipsed, has not been extinguished. This is my story:

I am a survivor of the most deadly war in human history, which has

claimed over 57 million American lives and over two billion lives

worldwide over the past 42 years. One-third of my peers have been

exterminated in the abortion concentration camps. Neither I nor

anyone born in 1973 or after have had any legal right to life! None of

us could have escaped the whim of another's choice! More sadly still,

it is to think that the perpetrators of such an abomination were not

some evil Nazi or communist dictator or tyrant, but of our own mothers!

What should be the safest and most peaceful moments of our lives

where we were rocked to sleep with the lullabye and harmonic symphony

of the loving heartbeat of our mother has become the deadliest battleground

in history! More tragic still is the memorial wall of the billions of babies

slaughtered is not written on some marble or granite wall but on the hearts

of these mothers! "You can rip a baby from its mother's womb, but not from

its mother's heart." Abortion has pitted a mother against her own baby.

In human history there has never been known any greater love or bond than

that of a mother and her baby. How tragic the slogan, "Abortion: One dead,

one wounded." You will always remember the child you never knew.

My prayer for January 22, 2008, is that no more names will be written on the

American Holocaust wall, and that once again the most loving place to be

in America is in our mothers' wombs.

Yes, we, those born after 1973, have a story!

 

There is a divine limit imposed on evil: Divine Mercy. The sacramental sign of His Body given up and His

Blood poured out! Now is the time for mercy, justice will follow!

 

 

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam,

Richard Mahoney