Holy Hate Speech Hannah

Her name is Hate Speech Hannah.  I met her over a year ago on my way to work.  When I got to the bottom of the station stairs, there was a train at the subway.  I had to catch it, because if I missed it, it might mean another fifteen minutes before the next one and I would be late. A train service is spotty at best.  So, I ran through the turnstiles and onto the crowded subway car.  My success turned into a loss as soon as the door closed.  There was a woman screaming, in the middle of the car.  I could tell where the sound was coming from, but I couldn’t see her.  I plugged my headphones into my phone and then the screen went black.  The battery was dead and I was trapped listening to the screaming.  I began to pray and the crowd shifted.  I got my first view of Hannah.  An older middle aged woman with soft features.   Her hair held in a net to keep the wash and set in tact.  She was dressed like a nice old lady; fashion bug sweater, polyester ankle length skirt and sensible shoes. If she wasn’t screaming hate, you might look at her and think “Oh what a nice lady.”

Hannah’s preaching (screaming) quickly turned to gay people and how we must repent for giving them the right to get married.  “Marriage is between one man and one woman, we will have hell to pay for this, because the bible tells me so.”  I began quietly praying (begging) she would get off at the next stop. She didn’t.  She got more aggressive with her rants, spitting and sweating while beating her hand on her bible.  The whole car was collectively groaning.  One poor lady became completely frazzled because Hannah was screaming and sweating right in her face as she attempted to study for her morning exam.  I couldn’t take it any more, so I lost my cool and started yelling back “Shut Up.”  Hannah was initially stunned silent, then the anger washed over her face. Indignant, that anyone would question her right to preach the “word,” she rebuked me and screamed louder. I continued to interrupt her sermon with “No one cares and please stop screaming hate.”  The other passengers didn’t quite know what to do.  Hannah rebuked me again.  “I rebuke you, I rebuke you, in Jesus’ name I rebuke you,” so I took her picture.  Hannah turned around, so I couldn’t get a picture of her face.  That actually took the pressure off the young lady trying to study, because Hannah’s butt instead of her mouth was now facing her.

Hannah continued to scream her hate, twenty minutes into my ride.  I stopped interrupting her as much, until a young man got on the train and started his own campaign to rid the car of Hannah’s sermon.  He screamed back at her to “Please knock it off.”  Reinvigorated, I started tag teaming with him.  We had a little movement going.  Others joined in.  Hannah was suddenly outnumbered and she didn’t like it.  Her voice went hoarse.  She was defeated and she knew it. Hannah got off at the next stop, but not before she rebuked me again.  I smiled and waved at her as the subway doors closed.

Yesterday, I got on the train and guess who was there, that’s right, my old friend Hannah.  She was still screaming hate, but it was muffled by the sweet sounds of Jamiroquai coming from my headphones.  I grabbed the pole in front of an older lady.   The lady had had it with Hannah (she didn’t have headphones.)  Frustrated, she started screaming back at Hannah.

“Listen, I read the bible.  What you are saying is nonsense.  Love thy neighbor is what it says.”

Then the old lady turned to me and said

“Some people read the bible, but they don’t understand it, she needs to make a prayer closet and go in it when she feels this nonsense coming on.”

The old lady continued screaming at Hannah. Realizing she had already lost the car, Hannah got off at the next stop.  If you see her in your travels, tell her the rebuked says “Hello!”