The two great debates of my lifetime have been the following: “Is it gravy or sauce?” and “Can a pro-lifer support the death penalty?”

The first conundrum is more controversial in my family. The second doesn’t have the philosophical gravitas of the first, but it has always troubled me from the age of 11.

That was in 1973, when Roe v. Wade was decided and abortion became legal in all 50 states.

When the decision came down, I was sitting in a classroom in my small Catholic girls school in the suburbs of Philadelphia. The nuns, who belonged to the Sisters of Mercy, asked us to pause and say a moment of prayer for the babies.

From that moment on, I knew which side I was on. I was on Team Baby, all the way. That hasn’t changed in over a half-century, and I have called myself pro-life in eve

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