The PGR is a good organization that does good work and is full of good people. I believe that it would have spontaneously formed even without the inspiration of “our friends from Westboro” – OFFW.

OFFW is the phrase I have used in these pages to refer to the small groups (usually from 2 to 6 people) dispatched from Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kansas. PGR’s official nomenclature is UGs (pronounced “Ughs!”) which stands for the over-generous phrase “uninvited guests”. No one else uses OFFW, but I suggest the pronunciation should be “awful”.

The Kansas Patriot Guard, where our national organization was born and where OFFW continues to be confronted at closest range, calls them simply “the inbreds”. While biologically incorrect, it is a reference to the fact that this one-church denomination consists mostly of a single extended family. Like most cults, though, their dogma is intellectual incestuous – postulates arising from foregone conclusions.

The small group OFFW dispatched to northern Illinois the first week of June, 2008 was typical. Shirley Phelps-Roper, 50 years old, is the third daughter of Reverend Fred Phelps. She is the fifth child of thirteen. She has eleven children of her own, the first one illegitimate. I asked if the two girls with her were among them and she said no. I didn’t ask if the reason had anything to do with the pending criminal charge of contributing to the delinquency of a minor in Nebraska where she encouraged her son to trample on the American flag at the funeral of a soldier exactly one year ago.

She and two of her (I presume) nieces had flown to O’Hare and rented a car. They then drove 70 miles to Rockford for a brief demonstration after which they would drive to Great Lakes Naval Training Station and then into Chicago for two more demonstrations before returning home. Busy girls.

In Rockford, they wished to confront the grieving family of a soldier recently killed in Iraq with the nieces holding signs that read, “Thank God for Dead Soldiers” and “Pray for More Dead Soldiers” and one of them wearing an American flag that dragged on the ground.

These religious messages are covered by the First Amendment protections. In spite of that, the federal government and most state governments have passed laws limiting the proximity to a funeral where they may be expressed. Mindful of that, Shirley positioned her group at Morgan Street and South Main Street shortly before the hearse carrying Blake Evans was to pass during its trip from the funeral home to the church where his funeral was to be held that morning.

The family of Blake Evans would travel with the hearse, including: Mother, father, step-father, wife and two small daughters.

Shirley had chosen a spot five blocks from the church, well outside the zone of privacy that the law established. Her small group faced the foot of a bridge that spans the Rock River. Since the funeral home is located ten miles east of the church, a logical route would take the hearse and family across that bridge and past the demonstrators on their way to the church for the funeral.

B marks the Bridge

D marks the Demonstrators

C marks the Church

Had the grieving family crossed that bridge, this is the awful sight that would have confronted them.

That is my bike with the big flag in the background. Earlier, I was at the church when one of the first-arriving guests told me that she had just driven past these three so I promptly went there. A short time later, Rockford Police Sergeant John Pozzi and four LEOs joined me. Sergeant Pozzi used his radio to route the procession over a distant bridge.

Matt had been at the church, but when he heard that OFFW were in place to inflict their extremely cruel message on the grieving family at their most vulnerable time, he had to see. Below, this patriot and PGRider cruises through the intersection to see one of the nieces standing on the American Flag.

Likewise, the Wisconsin State Captain.

Here you see the two nieces delivering their message to a passing school bus with PGRiders in both foreground and background.

A dozen individual PGRiders passed through this intersection over the short time OFFW were there. The bikers looked but not one said anything. Not one honked his horn, revved his engine or flipped his finger. Not one.

No so for the locals. Below, a passing car pulled into the lot to scold Shirley. That never works – it only gives Shirley a chance to deliver a more personal message to the couple in the car. Notice that the one niece is ready with her camcorder to capture any further confrontation that may result.

If you have seen their act a few times before they are a bore, but the first time can be shocking.

This couple didn’t stop but still managed to express their outrage at OFFW.

Here, an embarrassed father accelerates quickly when the light changes to get his daughter away from their hateful signs and words.

The loudest voice this morning belonged to this guy. As he waited at his red light, he boomed his disapproval. The cops, a few spectators and I watched with some amusement as Shirley was temporarily dominated.

But Shirley thrives on this stuff. Somehow she (and the whole cult) interpret the hatred directed toward them as some kind of validation. They are all addicted to hate. If you wonder how Shirley can expose her two nieces to such reactions, you misunderstand the family dynamic. They admire Shirley and they seek their own validation. After all, the children are our future.

And then a small miracle happened. The small miracle’s name is Nicole G. (She asked that I not publish her last name.) She may not know of the PGR but she has the same spirit: She saw OFFW and she got involved. She is an American and the First Amendment is coded into her DNA, so she found a large paper, wrote her own message and then she stepped forward.

She is right in the middle of the three of them as a PGRider pauses at the traffic signal.

Personally, I don’t fault the many people who prefer not to get involved, but I don’t admire them. I admire Nicole.

OFFW are unafraid and unembarrassed and when they make others squirm, they feel superior and righteous.

Nicole was unafraid and unembarrassed and that robbed Shirley and her nieces of their validation.

But they will be back another day, and probably for another generation.

And then Sergeant Pozzi told them it was time for them to go and they went. They walked to their rental car and drove the big navy base that is just a mile from my home. They would broadcast the message that “God Hates the Navy” at a busy intersection in the city of North Chicago. Before I left home, I had arranged for Sergeant Vincent of the North Chicago Police to be ready and waiting for them.

(Update: It turns out that, according to Shirley, the NCPD informed WBC that they needed a permit and that the permit had to be requested two weeks in advance.)

I traveled 90 miles to attend the funeral of United States Army Sergeant Blake Evans. Shirley traveled 540 miles to be there. We had seen each other at several funerals over the last 26 months and she had “spoken” to me previously, but this was the first time I spoke to her.

I arrived on my bike with a big flag flying and rolled into the same parking area where the three of them were standing. The police had not arrived yet. Because my presence alone might have been threatening to them, I immediately acted to reduce that perception. I never approached nor spoke to either of the nieces. I walked straight toward Shirley and with a broad wave said, “Hi Shirley!”

Having initiated a friendly exchange, Shirley responded amicably, “Hi! Nice to see you!”

We both knew that the sign she held saying “You’re Going to Hell” was her speaking to me, but if I were willing to ignore it she wasn’t going to rub it in. Instead, she cheerfully directed my attention to her Harley-Davidson hat. “I got one for Dad, too.”

In that moment, for just a moment, it didn’t seem like she was referring to the patriarch of the Most Hated Family in America. Shirley became, briefly, simply a daughter who wanted to please her Daddy.

Still, I noticed that when I got closer than five feet to her, she stepped back away from me. While her fearfulness is understandable, there is an irony in her large personal zone of privacy.

She told me that she got the hats during her recent family visit to Hawaii. I knew from the WBC website that they combined some business with their pleasure – they “preached” at several military installations. She said there was no PGR there, which will be news to Wolfman Gass, SC.

(In fact, her “Field Report” complains of “bitter bikers” (her code-phrase for the PRG) at the USS Arizona Memorial and of more motorcyclists at the Marine Base. But, it should be noted, it is not the mission of the PGR to oppose OFFW in all their activities. Since they did not picket any military funerals, we had no mission.)

Knowing that she and the church lost a multi-million dollar lawsuit 7 months ago (and that collection began two weeks ago) I mentioned that it must have been an expensive trip. She proudly noted that while her immediate family was at the farthest point west in the United States, other elements of her extended family were “preaching” on the east coast at the same time.

She told me that her three oldest are all in college and that her youngest is just out of kindergarten. I asked if they were all home for the summer and commented that I once walked through her neighborhood. “I remember you did.”

I took all the pictures above on Wednesday, June 4, 2008 in Rockford, Illinois.

I took all the pictures below on Monday, July 2, 2007 in Topeka Kansas.

She asked how I happened to be in Kansas. I explained that I traveled there to participate in a Wichita mission for Eric Palmer, C Company, 1/505. I explained that Jim was A Company, 1/505. I added that Jim is no longer in the army. She said, “Any soldier who gets out of the army alive should be thankful.”

That was the essence of my short and surprisingly civil conversation with the cult’s most active evangelist. I have long wondered how they can be so deliberately cruel and talking to Shirley only made it seem still more strange. I have read their website and found a lot of childish sarcasm but no explanation. So, as I returned from Wichita I passed through Topeka.

Topeka is a city of 122 thousand people, Rockford is 155 thousand. Both are surrounded by rural area. They have the same feel.

The Westboro Baptist Church takes its name from the Westboro neighborhood of Topeka where it is located – a pleasant, mature area. It is situated at the northeast corner of a small block. Shirley’s house is at the southwest corner of that same block. This is the back side of her house.

And this is the front.

There are six other homes around that small block. All except one share the interior of the block as a single back yard. High, solid fences connect the homes to make the interior private.

There was construction on the south side of the block that caused an opening in the fence. From the street I saw the common swimming pool being used by one adult and three small children.

I noticed this fellow following me. He is on the phone to the Topeka Police reporting that a person is walking on the street in his neighborhood.

The Topeka Police got a second report of a person walking on the street in their neighborhood by this woman.

Shirley joined them. The three of them followed me as I walked, making loud conversation among themselves in which they speculated about my sexual habits and other such things. When I turned to take their photo, Shirley offered me popcorn.

And, using her camera-phone, my picture was taken.

Eventually I left. The cops never came. May she choke on her popcorn.

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