That's a political base for Moore, who has his eye on a Senate seat.

Not only does this article display the true face of christian charity,
but it also points out that Moore's monument displays not "our
Judeo-Christian heritage" but the specifically Protestant version of
the 10 commandments.

http://www.msnbc.com/news/956098.asp?0cv=KB20&cp1=1

Roy's Rock

Alabama residents are wreaking a nasty revenge on the woman who took
their state's chief justice to court over his religious monument


NEWSWEEK WEB EXCLUSIVE

Aug. 22 —  By stubbornly refusing a federal court order to remove the
Ten Commandments monument in his courthouse, Alabama Supreme Court
Chief Justice Roy Moore has been hailed by Christian fundamentalists
as a man of great courage. Lesser known, but no less courageous is the
woman who dared stand up to Justice Moore.

       FOR HIS DEFIANCE, Moore has become a home-state hero, paving
the way for a future run for a U.S. Senate seat. For her brave stand,
Melinda Maddox has been run out of town. "He's the most popular man in
Alabama, and I am the least popular woman," says Maddox, a plaintiff
in the lawsuit that declared Moore's monument unconstitutional and
called it "nothing less than an obtrusive year-round religious
display."

       The granite monument, about the size of a washing machine,
rests in the rotunda of the Supreme Court building in Montgomery.
Moore secretly installed it two years ago under cover of night and has
made a reputation for himself by defying repeated court orders to
remove it. Moore first rose to prominence in the late 1990s as the
"Ten Commandments Judge" when he refused under penalty of law to
remove from his courtroom a pair of rosewood tablets that he had
carved himself. He ran for chief justice on the notoriety he gained
from the incident and was elected in November 2000.

       As the presidential race heats up and the Republicans move to
consolidate power on Capitol Hill, religion is shaping up as a wedge
issue designed to rally voters on the right. Congress got into the act
when the House of Representatives voted on July 25 by 260 to 161 to
block the federal government from spending money to enforce the court
order to move the monument known as "Roy's Rock." Not since former
governor George Wallace stood in the schoolhouse door 40 years ago to
protest desegregation has a high elected official so openly flouted a
federal ruling.

       Just as Wallace built a political career on the disaffection
of white voters, Moore is exploiting the fears of Christians who
believe they are a persecuted minority whose symbols are being
destroyed, when in reality the religious right rules in Alabama, and
in the White House.

       In an interview with NEWSWEEK, Melinda Maddox remembered how
livid she was when Moore held a press conference in August 2001 to
reveal he had brought the two-ton "Ten Commandments" into the Judicial
Building the night before, and would look to a higher power to decide
cases. "I wanted to do the suing; I wanted to litigate," she said.

       Maddox practiced law in Brewton, Ala., which proudly counts
itself among the "100 Best Small Towns in America," at least according
to its chamber of commerce. She also headed the ACLU legal committee
in Alabama. But Americans United for Separation of Church and State
persuaded her she'd be a better plaintiff. The weekend after her name
appeared in the newspaper, somebody shot BB pellets through the
windows of her house. Then her black Ford Expedition was keyed on both
sides while it was in the parking lot outside her office. "I was the
local outcast," she says.

       When the case went to trial in October 2001, Maddox came home
to 72 messages on her answering machine. "They were about how I should
be run out of town and didn't deserve to live with decent, God-fearing
people," she says. "There were calls to my mom and dad about how they
should be ashamed for raising a heathen."

       Maddox' side won the case, but that only heightened the
animosity against her. One of 38 attorneys in Brewton (and the only
woman among them), she saw her once-robust practice dry up. Clients
worried that if her name appeared on an appeal, they would
automatically lose. She lost her race for county commissioner. Voters
said they couldn't support a woman who took on such a good,
God-fearing man as Judge Moore. "You're fighting the wrong battle,"
they told her.

       Maddox closed her Brewton office last month and
moved with her husband to Mobile, Ala., a city where she has some
anonymity. "[Since I moved here,] nobody has called and said, ‘You
should die'," she says.

       Judge Moore says he takes his cues from God. He says the U.S.
judicial system is founded upon acknowledging God and that to remove
the monument would be "a disacknowledgment of God." He likens himself
to Martin Luther King Jr. in sanctioning civil protest to overturn an
unjust law. But unlike Dr. King, who counseled his supporters to turn
the other cheek, Moore and his followers don't treat their opponents
with Christian charity.

       Maddox was ostracized and lost her practice. She received
death threats. But she's not backing down. "I have no problem with God
anywhere else but in government buildings," she says. "If he wants to
move that monument across the street and buy a little piece of land
and put it on it, and privately fund it, that's fine. But the
Constitution says that government will not establish a state religion,
and by sanctioning Protestant Christianity as Alabama's religion, he's
left everybody else out of the loop."

       Speaking out against religion is risky in America. A poll
shows that 77 percent of Alabamians favor keeping the monument where
it is. That's a political base for Moore, who has his eye on a Senate
seat. But fewer than 40 percent are willing to foot the bill ($5,000 a
day in fines, plus legal fees) for Moore's indulgence. Two deputy
attorney generals appointed by the state have already spent a million
dollars of taxpayers' money defending Moore. The state's budget
deficit is serious enough that schools could be forced to close, yet
anxious religionists think it's more important to contribute to
Moore's legal defense fund.

       "Idiocy abounds," says Maddox.
       
       © 2003 Newsweek, Inc.