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Kermit Gosnell reminds of the necessity of bearing witness to truth

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There are childhood memories so penetrating that they run like movie reels in the mind’s eye, molding our character. My vintage 8mm features my European-born grandmother turning tearful and tongue-tied upon mention of her family, lost in the Holocaust. Her heartbreak, and the gruesome photos I ogled in my parents' edition of The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, were mind-boggling. When I was...

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