From The Sacramento Bee

Across the globe, women and girls trapped by poverty and war struggle to get health care when they are pregnant and contraceptives when they don’t want to become pregnant. Many face violence in refugee camps, endure female genital mutilation, risk being married off as children or lack things as basic as sanitary pads. The United Nations Population Fund, which subsists on the voluntary contributions of U.N. member nations, has been in existence for nearly 50 years to tackle these and other problems.

Yet the U.S. decided recently to pull all of its funding for the agency — a foolhardy and unnecessary move. The State Department invoked the Kemp-Kasten Amendment of 1985, which bars U.S. aid to any organization that the president determines supports or participates in coercive abortion or involuntary sterilization. The funding got pulled because the U.N. agency works in China — one of 150 countries where it operates — which has a coercive family planning program. The U.S. rightly denounces China’s forced “family planning” practices as violations of human rights. And if the Population Fund were somehow facilitating that policy, it might deserve to have its funding yanked. But it is not.

Not only does the Population Fund decry such practices, it has called on China to dismantle its coercive family planning program. Besides, none of the money the U.S. gives to the U.N. fund is allowed to be spent in China, for exactly this reason. Nor is any money from any contributor spent on elective abortions anywhere.

So in order to make an empty, symbolic statement about China, the U.S. is pulling money that goes to efforts like this: maintaining the only maternity hospital in the Za’atari refugee camp in Jordan, where more than 7,100 babies have been delivered since 2013.

In the immediate future, the Population Fund will keep the maternity hospital open with emergency contingency funding, but it will have to scramble to cover staff salaries.

The U.S. funding also supports reproductive health care (excluding abortion), gender-based violence prevention and counseling, and prevention and management of sexually transmitted infections in that camp and other sites in Jordan.

In Syria, U.S. funds go to mobile clinics, training of staff, and essential medicines and health care supplies in areas where existing health facilities have been damaged and resources are already strained by an influx of internally displaced people. Funds also support 42 health facilities and 32 mobile teams in 10 Syrian governorates.

The Population Fund’s 2016 budget was $842 million. The U.S. — not the largest donor — contributed just over $69 million. The Population Fund hopes to make up about half of that with other donations. The agency spends less than $2 million in China.

What’s happening is part of an ongoing battle in which the agency has been used as a political football. Since 1985, Republican administrations have invoked Kemp-Kasten to withdraw funding — or part of it — and then Democratic administrations have read the law differently and restored the funding.

House members and Senators have written letters to the secretary of State urging him to reverse his department’s decision. He should do so as soon as possible.

Just a few months ago, the Trump administration took an even more disturbing step: It re-established the so-called global gag rule — prohibiting U.S. aid to any organization doing health care work outside the U.S. if that organization also provides abortions or offers abortion counseling.

There are plenty of ways for the U.S. to limit how American aid dollars are spent — without slashing all funding from organizations working in desperately poor, underserved and conflict-torn areas of the world.

We may never know why Cedric Anderson barged into a San Bernardino classroom and pulled a gun on his estranged wife — why he shot her dead in front of her students, hitting two children in the process, before turning the handgun on himself.

What we do know is what happened last week fits a familiar pattern of domestic violence that cannot be ignored.

By most accounts, Anderson was an outwardly cordial but secretly angry and controlling man. He had a history of abuse charges and “turned on” Karen Smith soon after they got married, when quietly she decided to pursue divorce, her mother, Irma Sykes, told the New York Daily News.

“The real Cedric came out,” Sykes said, recounting how he once threatened to throw Smith out of a window.

Instead, Anderson showed up at the elementary school where Smith was a special education teacher. He fired 10 shots. At least one of the bullets hit Jonathan Martinez, a gap-toothed, 8-year-old who died on his way to surgery. A 9-year-old student is still in the hospital.

Just last month, Sacramento was reeling after police found an equally gruesome scene inside a home. Salvador Vasquez-Oliva has been charged in the killing of his wife, Angelique Vasquez, their two kids and Vasquez’s 21-year-old niece.

Then, in an unrelated case a few days later, Sacramento County sheriff’s deputies found 24-year-old Victoria Yasman Vasquez with a bullet in her head. A man she had been dating, Joshua Anthony Childers, has been arrested.

Most domestic violence cases aren’t this extreme. Over the years, abusive relationships have evolved — or perhaps devolved — to include more mental, emotional, financial and even technological threats. Those are harder for outsiders to spot.

By some measures, physical violence between intimate partners is actually declining.

According to the federal Bureau of Justice Statistics, the rate dropped 67 percent between 1994 and 2012, from 9.8 per 1,000 people to 3.2 per 1,000 people. In fact, violence committed by intimate partners declined at a faster rate than abuse by other relatives.

The exact reason for the decline remains a mystery, although it mirrors the broader national drop in violent crime.

In general, though, people’s attitudes have changed. The federal Violence Against Women Act has gradually brought about more public awareness. People tend to see domestic abuse, particularly the kind that leaves black eyes, as a serious problem. They watch for it and quickly condemn it.

Laws have changed, too, though there’s still room for improvement. Only about a dozen states prohibit people from possessing guns if they’ve been convicted of a domestic violence misdemeanor, and only five states require abusers to surrender their guns. Studies show the presence of a firearm dramatically increases the risk that an abusive relationship will end in death.

Anderson was legally able to buy a gun because although he had been arrested multiple times on weapons charges and accused of domestic violence, he was never convicted of a crime.

All of which makes heading off the kind of murder-suicide that happened in San Bernardino all the more difficult. But it’s up to the public to provide unconditional support, not judgment, for domestic violence victims and insist on holding abusers accountable for their actions.

The second of a two-part column recounting Harry Musslewhite’s experience on the Southwest Chief, first the east-west trip, today the west to east leg.

The announcer on the train must have broadcast experience. In a booming voice he announces, “Welcome to America’s Southwest Chief.” (emphasis on America!)

Leaving from Chicago’s Union Station exactly on time, we were amused at the Chicago pigeon (surely a Cubs fan) who had the run of the waiting area and the interest of all the children gathered.

There was drama upon our exit from The Windy City. Certain Amtrak patrons were displeased with their seat assignments and took exception to the conductor’s insistence that they sit in their proper place. Twenty-four hours of this tension, we don’t need.

Then there’s Boris. I don’t know if that is his real name, but he appears to be Russian and quite full of vodka. The conductors attempt to get him to settle down, and there is quite a scene as he insists, while talking to himself in a hugely attractive “Moose and Squirrel” accent, in roaming throughout the train.

Soon everyone settles down. Perhaps it is the gentle rocking motion of the car, but voices lower and an air of peacefulness soon dominates the assembled travelers.

This Southwest Chief is Number 3, and it features a much nicer snack car/grill than Number 4, our West/East train. A nice cold bottle of white wine and snacks make the first hour pleasant indeed, not to mention having my favorite New York Times in hand.

The manager of the dining car comes around and we make reservations for the civilized hour of seven p.m. The cornfields of the Midwest flow north and south from the ribbon of track, and America’s Southwest Chief rumbles westward.

We read and relax in our seat and before we know it, the dining car hour arrives. We enjoy a simple meal with two young folks. One is a nurse from the Chicago area heading to see her mother in California, and the other a talkative handsome young man in the custom truck design business. He is a regular on the Southwest Chief and informs us that at that moment we are hurdling through the lower Midwest at eighty-nine miles per hour.

The bride and I say farewell to our energetic dinner companions and retire to the observation car. By now the tree-lined Midwest vistas have given over to vast expanses of farmland. A huge storm front darkens the western horizon as we settle in to our coach recliners.

Boris continues to roam the train. He mutters constantly about “freedom in America” and carries two large bags with him at all times. The travelers have named him “hat man” due to his odd fedora festooned with a gold ribbon. The conductors are not amused, yet when they attempt to anchor him, he has a knack of disappearing. I wonder if, like the film “Silver Streak,” they will handcuff him to a gorilla in the baggage car.

I sleep fitfully. I have plenty of real estate, but can’t find the angles for a proper relaxed occupancy. I awake before six a.m. and go solo Clay Bennett, Chattanooga Times Free Press to the dining car for breakfast.

To my great surprise, I am greeted by the young family encountered earlier on our way east. The child recognizes me and points knowingly in my direction. I am more than pleased to see these fine folks.

The search is on for Boris by the train staff. I wonder where he could hide from the conductors on such a relatively small train.

The dining car manager possesses a booming basso voice coupled with an overeager need to entertain. Whether delivering announcements over the speaker system or delivering a bottle of water to one’s table, his micro-events are accompanied by vaudevillian shtick. Maestro is not offensive, but I wish he could dial it down to “8” instead of a constant “11.”

After breakfast the bride and I decide to spend the morning in the observation car, and what a fine choice!

A robust snowstorm greets The Southwest Chief as we cross the border from Kansas (‘the eternal’) and Colorado (‘thank goodness we are out of Kansas!’). From the train window to the horizon there is a total whiteout, but as the train enters the mountain area near Raton, New Mexico, stunning snow swept crags offer a visual feast. I spot a herd of antelope racing for shelter, and a Raton resident offers us an insider’s tour of the old west ranches, grave sites, and ghost towns out our window. We are delighted.

Suddenly, Boris himself appears. He asks the contents of various travel drinks, and eventually settles down at the end of the observation car. My theory is that his act is a cover, and that he actually is a KGB agent scoping out America’s rail system. The American flag on his shopping bag does not fool this Boy Scout!

Snow gives way to rain as the train lumbers toward Las Vegas, New Mexico. The geology of New Mexico is one of the state’s wonders, and the railway cuts through tight canyons that give rail travelers a close opportunity to observe rock strata, various forms of cacti, and more. The great southwest (as opposed to gaunt Kansas) is the drawing card on this train route, and New Mexico certainly doesn’t disappoint.

We enter the outskirts of Albuquerque with anticipation of home, the four dogs, and our own bed tonight.

Would we do this great American adventure again? Probably, but the next train trip will take us from Albuquerque to Los Angeles and more of the desert southwest. Stay tuned. Writer’s note: Upon finishing this column I received a press release from The National Association of Railroad Passengers informing the public that the Trump Administration’s first budget proposal intends to eliminate 220 cities from Passenger Train Service. Of those cities: Albuquerque and even little Jesup, Georgia. Daily Service of the Southwest Chief would be eliminated.

Former Roman Harry Musselwhite is the author of “Martin the Guitar” and is an award-winning filmmaker. Jim Powell of Young Harris