Fighting for Dear Life by David Gibbs Read Free Book Online

The governor’s office agreed to use such a protocol. His legal team arranged for the governor’s office to directly fax Governor Bush’s signed order to our law firm. We, in turn, would work with a state trooper from FDLE to deliver it to the hospice without delay. With that settled, and the business of the day concluded, we waited and prayed into the night for the bill’s final passage—and for Terri to hang on long enough for this help to arrive.
    On October 21, 2003, six days after Terri’s feeding tube had been removed, House Bill No. 35-E was passed by the Florida State Legislature and signed into law by Governor Jeb Bush. Representative Stargel called us with the wonderful news. He assured us that he was running to the governor’s office to have an order signed immediately. As you can imagine, our staff burst into tears of joy.
    Although it wasn’t really necessary, we reminded Representative Stargel that every minute counted and that we would be hovering over the fax machine. After what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes, our fax machine sprang to life. With eager hands outstretched, we watched as the machine began printing out what was to become the Life Certificate for Terri Schindler Schiavo. As we were about to learn, passing the law was the ‘‘easy’’ part. Getting it enforced would require three things:
    A police escort.
    A clash of wills at the hospital, and . . .
    Another miracle.

CHAPTER FIVE
    DOCTOR’S ORDERS
    I’m very, very grateful to the Florida legislature and Jeb Bush. . . . They did the right thing.
    â€”S EAN H ANNITY ON THE PASSAGE OF T ERRI’S L AW 1
    W e hovered close to the fax machine like doctors waiting to deliver a baby. As the pages emerged, our eager hands received the precious document before it ever touched the paper tray. With care, we quickly made several copies of Governor Jeb Bush’s signed order. Rex Sparklin, one of our Gibbs Law Firm attorneys, jumped into his truck and made a beeline to Woodside Hospice.
    As he turned onto the street where the facility was located, Rex slowed down as it took a long minute to absorb the surreal scene unfolding before him. Hundreds of Terri’s supporters lined the street behind temporary orange barriers stretching the length of several blocks. Some held homemade signs protesting her starvation. Others were singing softly or openly weeping.
    A number of the demonstrators were huddled in small groups of two or three to pray. The disabled, confined to their wheelchairs or leaning on their crutches, were scattered throughout the crowd pleading to save Terri’s life.
    In a clear show of force, police cars blocked access to the hospice’s two entrances. Armed officers had been assigned to patrol the hospice grounds to prevent any unauthorized attempt to reach Terri with food or water. Rex also noticed that the media was out in full force. With a battery of cameras and microphones, they darted around looking for any scrap of news. If they had known what Rex held in his hand, he would have been stampeded by the press, of that he was sure.
    Rex inched his truck forward. Progress was slow at best. The closer he got to the hospice, the more congested the road became as the crowd and the media swelled in numbers. Recognizing that getting through the masses with his vehicle was next to impossible, Rex quickly parked at the edge of the crowded area, hopped out, and made his way on foot. He just had to get those documents to the right authorities.
    At the first police barricade, an officer approached and asked him to state his business. Rex informed the guard that he possessed a copy of the governor’s order to reinsert Terri’s feeding tube and that it needed to be delivered immediately to Terri’s caregivers. As he handed the policeman a copy, Rex explained that he’d wait right there for confirmation of the delivery.
    The officer scanned the