Shirley Viciedo (A letter from a Mom)

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Mom's Story

I hope my story will help other parents avoid the same mistakes we made when dealing with what we perceived as a "problem child." I am the mother of a daughter that we (her father and I) sent away to be "rehabilitated" at a home for girls called "Hephzibah House" (located in Indiana).

In 1981 we were new believers in Christ, and we wanted to be part of a church that could help us grow in our new found faith. We found one in a local independent Baptist church where we learned many good Biblical principles. After several years, we were compelled to move to another town to accommodate my husband's job. We moved and again joined a small Baptist church that we felt was like minded.

The pastor there was new and extremely charismatic, and though in the beginning he seemed kind and caring, it wasn't long before control became the issue of the day. The podium soon became a whipping post for members (who were called out by name) and sermons were always on the issue of standards rather than doctrine (i.e., hair, dresses, relationships with members of the opposite sex, total submission of wives to husbands, socializing, etc.). The teens in our church were all "suspect" (all the teens except his own daughter).

During this time our two teen daughters attended a Christian school, which was associated with another church, but our pastor convinced us that they should have no contact outside of school with the other kids. No more sports, teen groups, or extra curricular activities. Our girls could do virtually nothing for enjoyment. Everything came to a head when our oldest child, then seventeen, ran away from home to a friend's house. Long story short-we were advised to enroll her in a home for wayward girls-Hephzibah House.

We were so stressed at the time, that we agreed, due to the pressure and advice of our then pastor. Once we got to Hephzibah House, we had to agree to no visits for months at a time, and only once monthly phone calls. It was not until years later, that we found out that all the phone calls were strictly monitored and censored in order to prevent her from telling us the truth. We also found out that she received our letters with huge portions blacked out with a permanent marker, which she perceived as us saying something to her that was inappropriate.

It also took years for her to be able to tell us about the beatings, the deprivation, isolation and humiliation, and the rationing and withholding of food. Our daughter stayed at Hephzibah for the entire 15 months that we had agreed to. However, after about 6 months at Hephzibah, our daughter turned 18 years old. I had looked forward to this day as her homecoming. When I called to make arrangements to pick her up early, I was actually put on the phone with her, and she told me that she did not want to come home. I was heartbroken and asked her why she didn't want to come home, and her reply was that she was "not ready."

Years later, knowing how the phone calls were censored, this conversation now makes sense to me. In 1989-1990 we sent approximately $350 per month to Hephzibah House, and in addition we sent all of her personal needs items as well (deodorant, toothpaste, etc), yet she was denied the very things we sent for her.

While we now have a normal mother-daughter relationship, I have watched her struggle through the years with severe depression. I have seen her make less than wise choices regarding her life, and I am convinced that her experiences at Hephzibah House have played a huge part in that. You may be surprised to know that even now, my husband and I belong to a Bible believing independent Baptist church, and we have attended there for the past seventeen years. It is a place where Biblical doctrine is preached, and the people flourish.

Linda Guest (A Letter from a Mom)

My daughter is Angela Guest who was listed on your missing site. She has written blogs on formerhephzibahhousegirls.webs.com

I was against sending her to Hephzibah House. Our pastor and Youth Pastor talked my husband into it, and he and I argued until he talked me into it. I never agreed to it even though I gave in. Knowing what I have learned since Angela left there, I wish I had stood by my feelings and not given in. I cried every single day she was gone and prayed constantly. I wonder if she will ever truly be over her experience there.

She had nightmares when she came home and probably still does. She has two beautiful daughters now, and is doing well, but I know she has never forgotten all she endured at Hephzibah House. It breaks my heart that Angela has such deep scars from this experience, and it has affected her trust issues and other areas of her life.

I know that there are good schools out there for dealing with troubled teen girls, but I don't feel that HH is one of them.

My husband also feels badly that he listened to them instead of just praying through the matter and getting GOD's answer. He let them be his "Holy Spirit". I do feel that he gave us some wrong advice. I am still wondering if we should actually tell him how bad Angela was treated at HH. Maybe it would prevent him giving advice to send anyone else there, but I wonder if he would actually believe how bad it was.

Thanks for listening – I know that someone who has been there will understand.

Joyce (A letter from a Mom)

25 years ago, as a single mom of 3 daughters, I was having a difficult time with my oldest.

When she was 14, the Christian school expelled her for smoking and she was buckling under secular peer pressure at the public school. My daughter became involved with a boy and became truant from school to be with him. I sought the advice of our Pastor. I respected his wisdom. He knew Ron Williams' ministry, Hephzibah House.

Ron Williams had been a speaker at our church camp, Camp Peniel. Arrangements were made without my daughters knowledge. Hephzibah House said it would be better that she not know. I thought with their experience they must have reasons for not informing the girls.

After a waiting period of 3 months, and depending on how my daughter adjusted or how rebellious she was, she was determined a visit from the family. Visitation and phone calls were monitored by the staff. Incoming and outgoing letters were read and marked out to keep information from the reader. All of this was cited in the pre-form information.

24 yrs later I found out that meals were withheld for punishment or she would be so hungry, she would sneak handfuls of vitamins. When they had corn on the cob the girls would suck everything off the cob. If they were given apples, the core and all were eaten--while the Williams kids would stand in front of them eating a bag of chips! On 2 occasions she helped clean chickens and ducks that had been slaughtered. Those times were the only time they had meat and they sucked the bone marrow,fat and veins off the bone. My daughter was there 17 months and never had red meat! They were taken to Duffs Buffet in Ft. Wayne once and they could eat anything, but if they got sick from eating to much, they would be punished.

My daughter was at Hephzibah House for 17 months and never had a period!! WHY??I regret my daughter ever being there.

If referring Pastors knew how Hephzibah House disregarded and disrespected the girls as young ladies and how they were treated as servants and slaves. The Williams' Family/Hephzibah House is not a ministry like they claim--- it is just a business!!!!!!!!

A regretful Mom

Betty Doebbeling (A letter from a Mom)

I am writing this statement in support of all that has been said by others regarding the prison-like atmosphere at Hephzibah House, owned and operated by Pastor and Mrs. Ron Williams.
Although we had read all materials available to us at the time, (early 1980's so no internet) and although we had given the materials to our daughter to read and agree with before we took her there, we (her father and I) had no real idea of how the place was run.

It has been many years now, so with age, I'm sorry to say that some of my memories dim, but I do distinctly remember being told after we got to the facility that "for our daughter's own good" communications would be extremely limited and all communication would be monitored. We had no idea to what extent. I know that we were allowed Sunday phone calls during a 30 minute window. I cannot remember whether or not we were to initiate the call. We called as often as we possible could and the times we did get to speak with our daughter, there was always someone listening in. Unknown to us, she was living in mortal fear of saying something unacceptable and if she did so, a severe paddling/beating would result. Thus, our conversations were stilted and uncomfortable but we were led to believe that all was going well.

With regard to letter writing, we didn't know that our letters were tightly censored and blacked out if we said anything the staff deemed "unacceptable". It is highly unlikely that our daughter even received most of my letters as I was looked upon by the staff as a very sinful human being and a "sorry" parent. By the same token, we received very, very few letters from our daughter and the ones we got were pretty much written to make us think she was well adjusted, getting good grades, etc. but they all sounded the same.

On our first visit which was allowed several months into her "incarceration", her Dad and I were horrified to see how skeletal she appeared. She had black circles under her eyes and white spots on her teeth. Her normal build was quite "willowy" and had never been heavy, but her arms at this point were just sticks, her cheeks sunken in and face incredibly bony. Because of the spots on her teeth, which I knew could appear from self-induced vomiting, I remarked to Pastor Williams that we were really concerned about her weight loss, asked if they had noticed any excessive vomiting and then asked if they would take her to a doctor to be sure she was not ill. They assured me they would. They later contacted us and said she had been seen by a doctor and deemed well. Unknown to us, the simple concern about vomiting caused extreme distress for all of the residents/inmates as they were thereafter followed and observed by a staff member even for the most intimate personal situations. i.e., given 3 pieces of toilet paper following a bowel movement, having to announce what they were doing with same and announce when they would be done.

Of course now we live with the deepest regrets imaginable and can only be thankful our daughter has forgiven our error in judgment which resulted in a negative life-altering time for her. Her Dad and I have renewed our relationship with her and, praise be to God, we now love each other with an eternal love. We loved her then too. We just chose a horrible path for her when we thought we were going to assist her safely through some very troubled years. She shows signs of severe PTSD even now, 25 years later-as do almost all of the women who have written on the blog.

Renee Showers (Bowles): Survivor!

When I was 12 my mother filed for divorce. My father was an alcoholic and my mother was a faithful church attender. My sister and I were pretty tired and bored with church so we decided we wanted to live with our Dad, he would let us listen to music and he was the "fun" parent. So my Dad was either working or drinking leaving us with a lot of freedom.

I started drinking and smoking and one week decided to skip school, stay at a friends and listen to a new album. My Mom found out I was missing and called in child services to find me and bring me home. Then my parents dropped the bomb on me-they couldn’t control me so they had found a school for me where they would "control" me. So in 1981 my parents dropped me off at Hephzibah House.

I was only there for a day or so when I rolled my eyes during exercise time from exhaustion and earned myself a trip to the “Blue Room.” Bad attitude was my crime and they forced me to lay face down on the blue carpet and they sat on me and held my arms and paddled me with a wooden paddle. Every week for months, I would do something wrong and would get paddled. I had deep purple bruises from the paddle. Walking, sitting, and especially running at exercise time was excruciating. Once the beating was so severe that I soiled myself. I believe in spanking and I have spanked my children but never so violently.

Due to hard work and exercise program I kept losing weight even though I ate what they fed us. The cow tongue that was like chewing shoe leather. The pickled herring, the free eggs that were donated- it was food but it was terrible. When I finally got to see my parents they were shocked at how thin I was and how plump the Williams were. So three of us girls were put on extra portions. Once while weeding the garden I pulled up a tiny potato, I dusted it off and looked around and hung my head down while I chewed that tiny little vegetable, I was always so hungry.

The staff were often moody and short tempered with us. I tried to please them but was never really able to do that.

During my 9 month stay I never had my period, I don’t know if it was the stress or if they fed us something to stop it. As an adult I eat when and what I want. My weight goes up and down.

I do not attend church, to many hypocrites. I believe in a forgiving God and I believe God is everywhere and I don’t need to go to church to be near God. I am an honest and responsible citizen. Hephzibah House did not fix me. It made me leary of religion that was so strict and so cruel.

My Mother cried when I told her the things that happened to me. She apologized and I accepted. Now I pray that other parents can read what really happened there and make a better choice for their child.

Renee Showers (Bowles)

Former student of Hephzibah House 1981-1982

Susan Grotte: Survivor!

 This post is a duplicate and also appears HERE.

My name is Susan Grotte and I am writing to officially state that I was abused at Hephzibah House from February, 1981, to July, 1983.

I realize that this is far in the past, and nothing can be done. However it has come to my attention that girls are suffering under the same cruel conditions right now.

The state of Indiana investigated while I was a student at Hephzibah House, but we were hidden in a dark church while they came through. A few girls who were coached and intimidated were allowed to stay and speak to the investigators.

I was beaten with a paddle until I was black and blue. My skirt was pulled up, and I was laid out on the floor. One adult sat on my back and tightly held my arms, while another sat on my legs. A third beat me. I was beaten nearly every day for the first three to four months I was there. After that, I was sufficiently broken and docile, only receiving two to three per month. These beatings were so severe that they left blisters, hurt my back and twice I fainted. I still smell that carpet and feel it against my face.

I was so hungry all the time. The Williams ate very well, while we were denied sufficient, healthy food especially considering the energy we expended. I lost nearly 40 lbs in four months-- dropping from a normal 128 pounds to a mere 88. This in spite of the fact that we were not allowed to turn down any food offered.

I was menstruating normally before arriving at Hephzibah House, but ceased until I left in 1983.

I did heavy, back breaking labor. There was emotional abuse in the form of humiliation and isolation. Hephzibah House denied any form of contact with the outside world including any media and even notice of my grandmother’s death, as well as censoring letters from my parents. The rare phone calls from home were tightly monitored. Communication with other students was supervised and very limited.

The saddest part is that the Hephzibah House staff managed to convince me that they loved me. They taught us that we would go to hell if we ever would betray them, or "rise up against God's man."

Williams recently contacted me. I was shaking when I heard his voice. He asked me to write a letter to his lawyer stating that I was never abused, nor had witnessed any abuse while I was a resident. He was asking me to lie for him. I step forward now to defend these poor girls who cannot defend themselves.

Hundreds of girls have suffered because I did not have the courage to speak up then. This clear violation of normal human rights should not still be happening, 25 years later, in America.

It is important to point out that I had never shown any aggressive or violent behavior, had never experimented with drugs or alcohol, never been with a boy. My crime was never disclosed to me. I never had a trial, I never had a voice. I was 15.

In Christ alone,

Susan Grotte

Jeanette Merchant ~ Former Staff

My name is Jeanette Merchant and I was a full-time staff lady at Hephzibah House from August of 1994 until January first of 1995.

The girls would remember me as Miss White. I stayed only five months even though I was "committed" to work there for two years. I could not stay because I could not condone the abuses I saw there. Three months ago, I found this website and started reading the testimonies and I cried. Fourteen years had passed and all these memories came rushing back. I think I cried for a couple of days. Anyway, I will attempt to describe in detail, what I saw and how the girls and staff were treated.

In June of 1994, I went to Hephzibah House for a two week trial run to see if I wanted to work there. Everyone put on a front and I was treated like "family." So I decided to become staff and returned in August. At that time, we had eighteen girls and three full-time staff ladies, including myself. For the first two weeks, I had no day off and I became exhausted. I believe this was to wear me down physically. Then I was given one day off a week, which I spent in a spare room at Don and Wenda’s house.

As a full-time staff lady, I had to support myself financially. Hephzibah House did not pay us staff ladies a salary. I had to ask my home church, family or friends for support like a missionary.

This did not bother me, until now, after I learned how much Ron brings in every year, tax free. Also, I have done research and found out Hephzibah House Inc., Ronald and Patricia Williams have 1.5 million in real estate holdings according to the Koskuisko County 2007 Tax Assessments.

The first night I was there I was told to sleep in the bunk beside a girl who had arrived that day. The new girl was seventeen and a half years old and she had gotten "spanked" earlier that day. I was told by another staff lady that they held her down, forced her on her stomach, put a chair over her head and feet and "spanked" her with a "rod."

Life at Hephzibah House is very controlled. At night there are alarms set on the doors and windows so no one can escape. One staff lady slept in the hallway, which I believe is a fire hazard. If I or one of the girls had to go to the bathroom, we had to wake up a staff lady, because just walking down the hall would set off a beeper.. There was also a ten foot privacy fence surrounding the perimeter of the back yard, with locked gates.

The food was awful. When I first arrived I was put on half portions, then I graduated to full portions. For breakfast we ate grits. For lunch we ate tomato and cheese sandwiches. Without freedom to choose, we ate salads twice a day for a month. Some of the girls were doubling over with gas pains, it was too much fiber. The tomatoes were rotten. We would cut out the rotten holes and eat the rest. The salads were pre-packaged, slimy and expired. We would pick out the not so slimy lettuce and eat that. There were times while we were eating soggy salads outside, the Williams were above us on the deck grilling steaks and hamburgers, while we hungered.

We never ate fresh fruit. We also rarely ate turkey, beef, and chicken. The only meat was a fish mackerel loaf made from canned fish. Sometimes we ate soup made from unlabeled cans thrown in the pot. Yuck! If myself or one of the girls could not finish a meal, it was served to us at the next meal. One time I ate peas for breakfast. We had to drink milk that was made from powdered milk . This was so disgusting and was served with breakfast. One day, we were at breakfast, and a new girl said she was lactose intolerant. The other staff lady called her a liar and told her to drink the milk. As soon as she did, she projectile vomited. They made her clean up her own vomit. When the food truck came, the Williams got first pick and we got the leftovers.

I was told by Ron not to bring my car, that I could use theirs anytime. This was a lie to trap me there, I was never allowed to use their car . This was all about control. If I had my car, I would be free to leave whenever I wanted and that was what they were afraid of.

We had to drink so much water that it was hard not to have to go to the bathroom all the time. Some girls would accidentally wet their pants, so the Williams would make that poor girl wear a diaper. Can you imagine being sixteen and wearing depends? How humiliating.

All mail went through the Williams. I would see the girls’ letters censored with black markers, crossing out some of what their parents said. Also, the letters the girls wrote were read by the Williams before they were mailed out. The girls could not even tell their parents how they were being treated, because their letters were censored with a black marker as well.

Even my mail was monitored. One time, I got a call to go up to the Williams because Ron wanted to talk to me. I remember being scared. They had held a piece of my mail for two weeks. It was from a guy friend of mine. We had worked at the same Christian Camp one summer when I was in college and kept in touch. Ron said "I strongly recommend that you cease mailing him because it could lead to marriage. I told Ron that he wanted to sponsor me at ten dollars a month. He said praise the LORD, but he strongly suggested I not write to him anymore, but I could take his money. I ended up just sending him his money back. I did not feel right taking it. I was 21 years old, what right did they have telling me who I could correspond with?

The staff ladies and the girls were basically used as free labor. We had to clean the Williams houses, the church , school , cars, weed the garden, and rake the lawn. One time the girls and I had to clean Ron’s car and it was a pigsty. There were candy wrappers all over the place. I thought this was strange because Ron taught that sugar was "white death." The cleaning took about four hours. Later on, we were all lined up, to go outside. I could tell something was wrong. I was told in front of everybody that the car did not pass inspection. Nothing we did was ever good enough.

There was no love, joy or encouragement at Hephzibah House. Fear, humiliation, and constant fault finding were the tools used to "modify behavior." Many of the girls could not even talk to each other. Once the parents dropped off their daughter, they were not allowed to contact her for three months. After that, it was a ten minute phone call once a month, while a staff lady listened in on.

The girls were required to post their bowel movements on a public chart. They were only given three minutes to have a shower. I was required to set a timer. In my opinion the girls were not even treated like humans. I can remember we had to make all 18 girls line up whenever we went to school or church. Then they would count off out loud from one to eighteen like a bunch of toddlers.

I remember Patti Williams had a very bad temper. The only emotion we received from her is anger. One day she came down to the dorm and screamed in front of all us that she had just been to the Kagin’s house and their house was filthy. She said they lived liked "pigs." Maybe their house was messy because they are busy cleaning up after the Williams. Is this how you treat someone who has worked for you for many years?

Another episode happened on a Saturday and we were in and out doing work all day, and a some flies had gotten in. Naomi came down to the dorm to get something from the kitchen. She noticed the flies and killed them for me. Then she ran upstairs and told mommy that we had flies in the dorm. Patti got on the intercom, screamed at us, and told us to not let flies in. Why couldn’t Naomi just kill the flies for us and be a servant of Christ instead of running up to mommy and tattling like a child? One of the Williams sons came in one day and asked, "How are all you morons doing?" Sadly, some of their children reflected their parents’ view of us as well.

Ron taught in church that single women were subject to the authority of their pastor. So basically he said the staff ladies had to do everything he said. If I disagreed and I said so, I was told I by another staff lady that I wasn’t being "teachable," or I believe I wasn’t willing to be brainwashed. I was constantly told by the other staff ladies that the Williams were my authority, and God speaks through your authority. I believe these teachings are indicators of a cult.

After about four months, I went to Ron and told him I was leaving. He told me I committed to two years and I was breaking a vow to God, comparable to marriage. I was basically stuck there with no way out. They did not offer me a ride home or to a bus station. He did not contact my parents and have them pick me up.

About two weeks later on my day off, I was at Don and Wenda’s talking to my mom and telling her to come and pick me up. I was on the phone for two hours. I guess, Ron was trying to get a hold of Don and couldn’t because I was on the phone. Ever hear of call waiting? I think someone heard me talking to my mom and told Ron everything. After that, my "phone privilege" was taken away, and I was only allowed to talk in the staff room in the main dorm with no privacy. That way they would know when I was on the phone and could listen in.

Finally, my parents came for a visit on a Sunday. I was told by Ron I was not allowed to go out to eat with my parents after church because this would be patronizing a local business on the Sabbath, and working on Sunday was an abomination to God. So another staff lady prepared steak, which is the first time I had steak there, and brought it to me and my parents in a five gallon bucket. If you could have seen the look on my mom’s face.

I spent that night in a hotel with my parents and we discussed me leaving Hephzibah House. I decided in the morning to leave so I called and told Ron. He wanted to meet with me and my parents one more time at the School Street location. He pointed his finger at me and basically screamed that I was breaking a vow to God and I was responsible for those girls. He basically said that if I left, God would punish me. Well, I did not sign on to being slave labor, eating rotten food, and being screamed at by Patti.

I went back to the dorm and packed and left that night. One other staff lady and one of the Williams’ sons watched as I packed my things like I was scum or a criminal. What was I going to steal, a pair of ugly polyester culottes? I was in such a hurry, I forgot to pack my shoes.

I was so physically and mentally exhausted by the time I got home. I weighed 120 when I went there, and about 105 pounds when I left. The first thing I wanted to eat when I got home was pizza. It took me four months just to regain my strength back. I believe I was malnourished and anemic when I returned home.

I almost gave up on God and Christianity after I left this place of horror. So I got alone with God and the Bible and studied for myself. I believe Hephzibah House does more harm to Christianity than good. They teach a warped view of God. God is not up in Heaven waiting to pound me on the head every time I sin. He just wants my heart and a relationship with me.

God did not punish me for leaving. In fact, I met my future husband two months after I got home. He is a wonderful Christian, good husband and father. I am now a home schooling mother of three, and I would never ever send any one of my daughters to Hephzibah House.

Suzanne Risner: Survivor!

I stayed at HH for my entire 15 months. I was miserable.

My impression of HH before I arrived was that girls whom were very rebellious, partied, drank, did drugs, and had sex were sent there. I did none of those things. My other 2 sisters were sent before me and they wish not speak of their ordeal.

Upon arriving you showered and immediately put on one of their uniforms. You were escorted downstairs and joined the rest of the girls, while staff went through your clothes and then you put them away. I hated marking the BM chart, and I always marked that I went because I didn't want to see what happened if you didn’t.

The pad basket was an embarrassment for me because I was such an heavy flow and always needed to change 6 x a day. I was told I was being wasteful. Excuse me! How would they feel walking around with a drenched pad on.

I was, after a few weeks, able to clean Kagins house, work outside, and clean the school building. I always looked forward to working with Aaron. He treated us like human beings. I remember when the rule came down we couldn't talk to any of the men at HH. I just thought it was ridiculous. I am sorry Aaron passed away. I am going to miss him.

One night after we went to bed, I was called upstairs. Basically Wenda chewed me out while Donald sat and looked stupid. I was "rebuked" for my desire to join the military. After a 30 minute "talk" I was spanked for my rebellion. Then Wenda was made because I didn't cry, and she thought that she should spank me again.

I also remember cleaning the "big bath" and Sharon came in and started talking to me, and while she was talking she was checking. I knew I didn't ask her to check it. So when supper arrived I was told I wasn't eating because I had failed my chores. I questioned her on it. Well, I had to drink my supper, and later I was spanked for arguing and lying.

I am now a mom of 6 kids, and I would never send my girls there.

Tonya Perfect ~ Former Staff

This is an official statement of the encounters I endured at Hephzibah House from September 1991 to August 1993.

My name is Tonya Perfect and I was considered a staff helper when I left HH in 1993.

I grew up with my childhood sweetheart since the age of 12. I was accepted at a small Christian college in Dunn, NC, but being from a religious background, and my boyfriend's parents believing the woman was the keeper of the home, I regretfully did not go.

My mother told me I couldn’t wait around for my Knight in Shining Armour and pretty much handed me the papers for volunteer work at HH and told me to fill them out. I was scared of my mother; I was brutally spanked for something I was not guilty of after I was 18. It took me forever to fill out why I would be an asset to the ministry and why I wanted to donate my time because I did not want to go and my mother knew it. Summer was over and the only other option on the paper was a 2 year commitment. My father was as scared of my mother as we were, so when we went into town with the letter to HH, he knew why I was crying and still mailed it.

My mother drove all night and brought me to HH in September of 1991, knowing I did not want to be there. I would call, crying, saying I hated it and wanted to come home many times during my stay there. Every time my mother would say she felt God would have me be there. I wanted to just run away, I was over 18, and still I felt like I was a girl with benefits. I was there with really no way out. If I ran, where would I go, I had nowhere. I didn’t even have a driver’s license til I was 20 after I left HH, so even on my days off I was stuck going no farther than the staff house.

Shortly after I arrived, I was given a set of keys to get in and out of different locked doors. I was never told the rules originally about not contacting girls after they left or if I left. We were sitting doing stamps and Campbell’s soup labels and other staff would talk quietly to girls about things that didn’t pertain to duties. I was talking quietly to a girl and she asked me if I would ever write a girl after she left, I said, I didn’t know, I guess it would depend on the situation. Mrs. Kagan came down at the time and went and told the Williams’ that I was talking hush hush with a girl and didn’t know if they could trust me. So they took my keys from me and said I would have to earn them back. Shortly after that I was demoted, I guess you’d say for being too nice to the girl; I was not to be a friend. They made sure they rubbed it in my face by calling me a staff helper, including in their newsletter.

Shortly after I arrived at HH, within a couple months, we were in the school room and Arnette came to me and said we were gathering all the girls, and to just go with the flow and not to ask any questions. I said why and she said it was best if I didn’t know. All of us went somewhere in Ohio I believe to a big church and throughout the night, every last girl left with their parents. I have no idea why, but I am assuming some sort of authorities were trying to investigate the home.

As with the situation I just mentioned, I was left unaware of any of the things I have recently read about, as in the physical abuse. I knew that the parents agreed to spanking, but I thought it was like we were spanked in private school. A paddle and you lean over, and get a couple swats on the butt. I had no idea about the chairs and being held down on the floor to be beat. My stay was awful, but I truly feel awful for any girls that had to endure that. That is just not even human.

There were weird things that went on while I was there. We had a cook/nurse named Jennie that had been there 8 or so years. One day her pastor called and said he needed to talk to her and no one had better pick up the phone. Within a few days or so, he was at the door saying he was there to get Jennie. Of course, as with anyone, she just disappeared and never got to say goodbye. Miss Berta Just disappeared, from what I heard she took leave, they never liked her and told her not to come back. Miss Reardon just disappeared without any goodbyes. They thought she was too worldly because she still had a desire for her makeup and jewelry.

Two girls came back as summer staff while I was there and we 3 were talking, they told us we didn’t need to be talking with no one else around. Sorry, but I thought we were staff. God forbid if their dirty little secrets come out. The one girl stayed in bed for at least 3 days I believe. I know she had been a student for a long time and had gone home for a couple months and come back. I think a lot of girls were pressured into that and can’t handle being free and being pressed to go back. Well, needless to say, she disappeared with no goodbyes also. Normally while I was there, the disappearing with no goodbyes happened when we had our Friday evenings outside around the fire.

When the Williams’ found out my boyfriend’s family was Pentecostal, which I am sure you all are aware of how they feel about people who speak in tongues, they are possessed of the devil, they had my father call off our relationship immediately, saying we would be unequally yoked. Hello, read your Bible, they were talking about saved and unsaved. Anyhow, Dad called my boyfriend and made like I didn’t want to have anything to do with him, not to call or write me anymore. Seeing as he thought this was my wishes, he didn’t contact me anymore. I was heartbroken and tried for a year to get over him. When I could not, I chose to write him and sneak a letter out. Of course I didn’t address it to him.

My mail was scrutinized, but not to the point that the girls were, as far as I’m aware anyhow. Well, when I got a letter back, it was near my birthday and I got an unusually large amount of mail in my box, so thankfully it slid through. I chose to be with him, and when my parents told HH of my endeavors, they called me upstairs and "counselled" me on my rebellion against them and my parents. I was 20 years old and determined for once in my life to make my own decision as a grown woman, and I was determined, no matter how scared I was of them or my mother, that I was going to be with my boyfriend, and I was going to get out of that hell hole one way or another. They told me there was nothing to do for me, I was of the devil and I couldn’t help rebellious girls, if I was rebellious myself.

They got me a ticket to Harper’s Ferry, WV and sent me away, making me feel like I was such an awful person. They told my parents not to help me in my endeavors. My father wasn’t even saved at the time and just went with the flow to keep Mom from going off on him. My parents left me at the train station all alone hours away from home. Ultimately my boyfriend’s Mom came and got me. But it was so scary to know your parents had disowned you. I was not allowed to talk to my brothers or sister because I might rub off on them, this went on for a year and a half. That was the hardest part. I was not a bad person, as was the case with the girls there.

It has taken years of healing and regaining trust with my family to have a close knit relationship of getting past all the hurt. My parents are now Mennonite and I would never live like that, but I must say, them getting out of that crazy religious background of whacked out beliefs to satisfy your own selfishness and profit has made them totally different people. They have learned to not judge. Because believe me, I am in no way "Perfect", yea, go ahead and laugh. I have made mistakes in life and I learn from them, but these mistakes have made me the strong independent person I am today. I don’t take anyone’s crap now. If I am happy and my children are happy and safe and taken care of, that’s all that matters to me. I will never profess to be anything I am not; I can’t stand hypocritical Christians.

Anyhow, I didn’t plan on this being so long, but as a final statement, I want anyone reading this to know that I feel for where you are coming from, I know how you feel and I know we are all survivors here. For the girls that were at HH with me, you all were special to me, and I hope that counts for something. I didn’t care if they demoted me, I was your age, and I was going to be friendly, despite what they said. I hope we can figure out a way to shut them down for good. Hopefully a brave soul can get past the scare of being stuck there punished for speaking up, so they too can be set free and any other girl that would have to endure the hell of HH. Well, you know what, the Williams’ and all their little helpers will one day have their own hell to pay, because I am sorry, you all are the ones that are awful people and will have to deal with judgment, not me or any girl that has ever had to endure HH.

THIS IS MY STATEMENT AND DEDICATION TO ALL OF YOU.

Tonya Perfect

Former Staff Helper

(Student with Benefits of not being beat to death)

Natasha Jovic: Survivor!

I honestly believe that the Williams are serving the Lord through ministry. I do recall them sending parts of the bible to Croatia (I believe it was.) However, I don’t feel that they should be working with teenage girls.

The girls need so much more they aren’t getting there. I’m not sure they are even aware of what they are doing wrong. I do believe they had good intentions but got carried away. I think they are "power tripping" because they can.

I never felt like anyone there cared about us girls. They were cold and distant. I was lied to by Patty. I was in need of discipline when I went to HH. I was acting out because I had issues with my family.

I WOULD HAVE RATHER GONE TO BOOT CAMP THAN HH! At least at boot camp they tear you down and then build you back up the right way. At HH all I received was constant tearing down. They made us see ourselves as ugly people deserving of nothing better than to burn in hell for eternity. What they did was wrong on so many levels.

Marlene struck a nerve in me. How can someone who hasn’t experienced something tell all these girls they are wrong and she is right?! Marlene, things are not always what they seem. Pat if you re standing up for God…then why get on here and call names such as devils, idiots and stupid? And who are you to judge whether or not we have a REAL life? You’re no better than HH judging us as if you know our life story. Just because we rebelled a little as a child doesn’t give anyone the right to abuse us the way HH did.

HH was sure to drill into us the error of our ways. Well, now it’s time for them to see theirs and the damage they inflicted on girls who could have been helped!

Monica Atkinson: Survivor!

My name is Monica Atkinson and I was a student at Hephzibah House from June 1981 to September 1982.

I was raised in a Christian "dysfunctional" home if that makes sense at all. My mother raised me primarily as a "single mother." I was the oldest of 5 children and the only girl in the bunch. My mother had become a member of a "non-denominational" church that consisted of a very small congregation. The pastor was very strange and when I look back, had all the attributes of a "cult" leader.

I was 15 when we began attending this church. Needless to say, I had begun my typical "teenage" rebellion. Actually I don't believe I was really that bad, but my mother sought advice from our "so-called preacher." Little did I know, this advice would be making plans to send me to a "girl's home" in Winona Lake, Indiana.

I wasn't aware of the plans being made for my going to Hephzibah House. The night before I left, I remembered getting up in the middle of the night and noticed my mother doing something with my clothes. I had no reason to suspect anything at that point, so while it was strange, I didn't question her and went back to bed. She came in early in the morning, woke me up and told me to get dressed. They didn't tell me where I was going, but when I went into the living room, my pastor and another deacon were at our house. I knew something was up! I started to throw a fit, but found out quickly they were prepared for that. There was no way out. They took me to the airport and my mother and I got on the plane at which time she told me where I was going. I had in my mind that I would get there and run away. (Little did I know... there would be no way out!)

When we arrived at Hephzibah House, I recall Ms. Kagin and Heather being there as well as Ron Williams. They took my things, sat us down in the "blue room," prayed with my mother and I, and my mother was escorted out. Thus began my Hephzibah House journey. I will never forget the "lock" of the door that signified there was no way out. The prayer that Ron Williams prayed with my mother and I included something about my mother's disobedience by being "divorced." I couldn't believe my mother was going for this!

I have always been a very strong willed child, even from birth! But something in me knew that rebellion was not going to bring about the results I was wanting. I really had never seen anything like it. They went through everything I had and took almost all of it. Heather watched me change my clothes and gave me uniforms to put on. They were the ugliest things I had ever seen... ( I was quite the fashion diva even at 15!) There was absolutely no individuality allowed!

They told me I could make a list and send it to my mom for things I needed. On this list I put tampons or pads that I recall... I was told that I would not be needing them.. ??? I did not understand. I had one period about a week after I got to Hephzibah House so why wouldn't I need pads or tampons? I had regular periods from the age of 13... Ms. Saylor just smirked and told me that none of the girls had periods while they were there... and that was it. She was right! I didn't have another period the entire time I was there.

The initial adjustments were excruciating! I was a healthy girl when I went to Hephzibah House. I wasn't "fat" by any means, but healthy. Probably a size 8 or 9. However, they immediately put me on 1/2 portions and I thought I was literally going to starve to death! Not to mention we were on this exercise regimine that was very difficult. We had to jog 2 miles plus a day and exercise for an hour doing various jumping jacks, leg exercises, situps etc. I lost about 40 pounds while at Hephzibah House and was a size 0 when I went home.

Aside form the exercise and diets, we had to adjust to perfection or else! We were assigned work duties for everything from wrinkles in our bedmaking, to leaving things out, to looking in the wrong direction. It was a major adjustment for me and one I did not do well with. If we accumulated more work duties than we could work off in a day (2), we would be paddled if at the end of the day we had more than 30 work duties.

This paddling was like nothing I had ever experienced. I would lie away in my bed "awaiting my turn" while I could hear the screams of the girls going before me. When my name was called, I would go down to the "blue room," I would have to lie down on the floor face down. They would lift my night gown up...One of the staff would straddle my back and hold my arms down, another would get at the end of my feet and hold them down while another would take the board (about 2 inches thick and 4 inches wide and I don't remember exactly how long, but long) and I don't know how many times they would hit me, but I can remember I had never experienced anything so painful.

This went on night after night, despite my trying so hard not to have more than 30 work duties. After the first couple of paddlings, I had blood blisters on my rear and bruises beyond what I can describe. The humiliation, the pain, the utter hopelessness of this practice was very depressing. But I didn't dare show that emotion...

This place tried to take every bit of dignity that we had. Our self esteem was attacked from any angle in the name of "humility." WE couldn't go to the bathroom in peace, we were timed even in bathing. I watched other girls suffering also. Some from medical neglect, others just like me...sheer emotional torture. We were not allowed to console each other. It was extreme brain washing and mind control. Since I left and have gotten older have I come to understand how cults operate and this is their number one tactic! I remember just feeling like there was no hope.

We were required to curl our hair for Sunday morning services. We had foam rollers and roller our hair on Saturday night. Fortunately my hair curled easily, but there were several girls who had very fine hair and were in constant fear of being paddled for "rebellion" if their hair did not curl for services.

Our mail was censored both coming and going, our phone calls were monitored (6 minutes every 2 weeks), there was no way to let anyone know what was going on. My mother came to visit during a Thanksgiving celebration where all the parents came and I was warned before she came that I was not allowed to speak to here where noone could hear me. I couldn't go to the bathroom with her no nothing... still a hopeless situation.

Girls would come and go... but when they went, we couldn't say their name anymore. I remember there was no way to please some of the staff. I lived in fear and I believe some of them thrived on that... not just from me but from all of us. We were subjected to some of the most evil tactics. We had to behead chickens, pluck them and eat them almost the same night. The same with ducks and rabbits. I just wasn't used to that. We were forced to eat liver, hearts, etc. when I could barely choke it down! It was horrible, but I knew if I didn't finish it, I would be eating it for the next meal.

Work duties were graded on a "more than perfection" scale. If there was one piece of grit on the floor, we failed and didn't get credit for what we had done...

I could go on and on about the cruel and unusual punishments, the torture both physically and mentally but I think enough is said in that respect. The bottom line is that I believe that in the end, there is justice and God does reserve justice for those bringing harm to "God's children."

The night before I left Hephzibah House, I was desperate.. I went into the cedar closet and cried out to God... I had no idea at that moment, my mother and Ron Williams were having a "heated" conversation regarding my staying until I was 18. My mother refused to commit to my staying any longer than the 15 months, and as a result, Ron Williams told her that they were going to send me home. Praise God! I was sent home the next morning. I didn't get to say goodbye, didn't get to see anyone before I left, just called to the office and that was it. I was sent home. I knew I had been delivered. It felt like a dream!

Needless to say it was a "huge" adjustment after coming home. I started my period again about 2 months after coming home. Things eventually settled down for me, I went back to school and life went on.

Hephzibah House could have destroyed every bit of faith I had in God. Instead, what my time at Hephzibah House taught me was a very good lesson in what true Christianity is about. It's all about God and the Word of God! People will always disappoint me, but God never will. It's because of Hephzibah House that I came to understand that God makes "all things work together for good!" I believe that God has taught me who HE is through the trials I've been through including Hephzibah House. Just like Joseph and all the injustice he endured... but in the end God had a plan for his life.. just as He has for each of us...

I do believe that the Williams' are deceived and I don't believe that any child should have to endure what we endured at Hephzibah House. My prayer is that the right people are enlightened to what is going on in places like Hephzibah House (and HH itself) and put laws in place that will prevent this kind of abuse.

God bless you all!

MiChelle Miron: Survivor!

My name is MiChelle Miron. Please accept this as my official statement. I was at Hephzibah House from 1990 to 1993.

After much trepidation, I have decided to share my experience. I was born and raised in a strict fundamental Baptist home. I was your average sheltered 15yr old. I had never drank, smoked, run away or any of the other "sins". My home was conflicted because we knew we could get away with things with my dad that my mom would not allow. Please don’t get me wrong. I love my family and believe they did the best they could for us.

I was preparing to go to camp and the weekend before my mom suggested we go visit Shipshewana in Indiana. I had heard of the place and was excited that we could go for a mother/daughter visit. My parents had me sleep in their room on the floor and then we got up early the next morning. I was told my dad had gone to work. My mom and I loaded into the van and stopped to get gas. I was very surprised when we drove to the church and my dad and the pastor walked around the building and got into the van. I was then told that I was being taken to Hephzibah.

We knew about the ministry because my parent’s church supported them. However, it was a standing joke that if you didn’t behave you would be sent there. All of the girls knew it was not a good place to be sent. We had heard the stories from girls that had been there. It was a long drive and I remember just resigning to the fact I had no way out.

When we arrived, my suitcase was gone through and may items such as curling iron, hairspray, etc. were sent back home with my parents. I was then taken into the bathroom and stripped down to my underwear, told to get into the shower and hand out my panties and bra. Then I was told to wash all the hairspray and makeup off. When I was finished I was handed a blue jumper and red shirt made of polyester. I was told I could only wear slippers. I later found out this was to prevent new girls from running away because they couldn’t get very far.

I was not allowed to say goodbye to my mom and dad but was escorted downstairs into the basement and the door was locked behind me. I will tell you that I had never felt so lonely or lost than that moment. I was scared, isolated and crying. I was taken to the main room and seated at a table. I was given a copy of the rules and told to read them. I was also told that I needed to be quiet and stop crying. I softly wept for several days missing my family. I knew that I would have to immediately conform in order to stay out of trouble.

I always felt "branded". We were the worst of sinners. We had no privacy whatsoever. We were monitored in the bathroom and given assigned stalls. We had to mark what they called a BM chart. You had to indicate whether we had a bowel movement that day and mark it with an S for soft, M for medium, H for hard or D for diarrhea. If we forgot to mark the chart, we would be given demerits. I do not remember how many demerits you got before you had to write sentences but the least amount was 500 sentences. You would not be allowed to speak to anyone and you had to wear the uniform to church to indicate that you had been bad. Demerits were handed out freely and offenses were made up at the drop of a hat.

Meals were very scary. We were allowed to pick whether we wanted half portions (dieters) or full portions. For me the food was never enough.

I learned to stay out of trouble very quickly so I was allowed to be on the "garden crew". These were the only girls allowed outside of the fence. The house that we lived in was surrounded by a very tall wood fence. The doors and windows had alarms. It wasn’t to keep people from getting in but from us getting out.

The garden girls did intensive, back-breaking work from sun-up to sundown in the summer. We would lift five gallon buckets of honey over our heads in confined spaces, pick corn and carry large tubs of it back to the trucks through a field in the hot summer sun, rip out old fence rows covered in poison ivy, etc.

I was always hungry and resorted to stealing food from the "blessing room". The blessing room was a room upstairs in the Williams family living area. There were shelves lined with cooking supplies, food and juices. We were not allowed to eat any of that; it was reserved for them only. I was ashamed to be stealing but I was very hungry. We were fed from the supplies they could get from a food bank. Most of it was unmarked cans that would be opened and tossed into a large pot and then served as soup. I know that some of those cans we opened smelled and looked just like Alpo dog food. We were fed things like millet, barley malt and others I had never heard of. We were made to take vitamins daily and would have reactions to having too much in our system.

Because I was one of the "trusted" girls, I was allowed to talk to almost everyone. I was not allowed to speak to one of my childhood friends that was there until she graduated. We could only talk about approved subjects. We could not talk about friends, past students, or even our brothers. We were not allowed to have pens and paper unless in school or during approved letter writing time. Everything in our lives was monitored. Our letters were read before going out and read before we got them from our parents, phone calls and visits were strictly monitored.

You were denied meals for failing to pass a duty inspection. I was not spanked while I was there but I heard many girls crying and yelling and they would come back downstairs sobbing. It was one of our worst fears to be called upstairs. We knew what was happening. We had assigned bathroom breaks and if you had to go before that you would get demerits. This went for in the middle of the night too. The staff were very uncaring, crabby and vindictive.

Maybe these things don’t seem so bad to you but we lived in fear. You trusted no one and the best way to stay unnoticed was to keep your mouth shut and head down. I had severe menstrual cramps growing up. I would be doubled over in pain, throwing up. I had the same thing while I was there and was denied any pain killers. I was expected to perform my duties even though I could not even stand up without doubling over in pain. I could not eat and would not have wanted to eat if I could have.

I was forced to drink a protein shake because I was "sick". The protein shakes were similar to what they give to body-builders except ours were not mixed properly. They were mixed with cold water and that left them clumpy and hard to choke down. I would often just throw them back up. I would lay there and ask God to please kill me.

I have had glasses since I was a kid. While I was there, my frames broke. I do not recall the exact circumstances. I was not allowed to have an eye exam to get them fixed. They were taken somewhere and the lenses put into some old frames. The frames were not the right shape for the lenses so everything was distorted. They gave me headaches and I was told there was nothing they could do. I resorted to not wearing them at all which left me almost blind. I failed a sweeping duty because I missed a piece of popcorn behind a large door. I could barely see the hand in front of my face and the staff knew that but it was not given any consideration. I was then made to drink a protein shake for dinner.

During my stay, a past students family had tried to get the State of Indiana to investigate reports of abuse. I and another student were hand-picked to speak to this agent. We were taken to his office and he questioned us in front of the staff lady. I was terrified to tell him anything because I knew the trouble we would be in. He asked the staff lady to leave but she left a tape recorder behind. We knew that she would hear us anyway so we said that things were all okay. He asked us to write on a piece of paper anything we might want to say but I was petrified and knew that not only would the Williams family be very angry but so would my family and church. I couldn’t take the chance of being all alone with no way to support myself.

Shortly after that meeting all of the girls were sent home to their families. I don’t know the time frame but probably a month or so, the school was reopened and I was sent back to finish my schooling. The staff ladies are not trained to teach so there was no one to explain algebra to me. They figured that I was not getting it so I was given a different subject in order to graduate.

I sum all this up by saying, God was sorely misrepresented to us. We were always afraid of judgment and humiliated. Our sin was thrown into our faces daily and we were not to forget that we were the forsaken. I learned to hide my emotions, to be untrusting and unforgiving. I have nightmares that I am trapped there as an adult and trying to explain that I don’t belong there. I have unfounded fears that my husband will abandon me.

I beg you to reconsider if you are thinking of sending your daughter there.

Marissa Joungblood: Survivor!

My name is Marissa Joungblood and I attended Hephzibah House from June 1998 to January 2003.

My memories and experiences at Hephzibah were far from pleasant.

I wouldn't describe myself as a bad kid; I was a normal teenage girl with the normal problems of those awkward years everyone goes through. I remember I had cut class and a big deal was made of it....well i was deemed as a rebellious child and therefore sent to Hephzibah.

I personally was never physically abused though I was abused emotionally. They seemed to enjoy public ally humiliating girls including myself. I remember a few girls made to wear depends because they were unable to hold it until the staff decided to take all of us to the bathroom. We were made to drink a lot of liquids and I remember having to take a lot of vitamins making you have to go frequently.

One incident I remember shortly after I arrived was one of the girls was speaking out about something right before church and Patti (Ron Williams wife) was called down and Wendi (Don Williams wife). Patti had slapped the girl across the face and put her in one of the closets and we were all rushed off to church. The girl was left behind with Patti and Wenda, and I could just imagine what went on when everyone had left. She was made to lay in bed for the rest of the day. This was a quick reminder to me that I had better do everything I was supposed to do.

Another unpleasant thing, of many that I remember, was some so called doctor came down to give us an exam. I told him I was a virgin and he still continued with the pap smear or pelvic exam not sure exactly what he was doing. I was in extreme pain! He also had the hardest time taking my blood poking me several times. I've never had anyone have such a hard time taking my blood.

I also remember the tremendous amounts of food we were given to eat in a certain amount of time. This was very difficult for me because all too often I couldn't finish in time and had to eat it at the next meal (including the other meal). Sometimes a few of us girls would sit and rock in our chairs trying to get the food down. I was told I was rebellious because I had such a hard time finishing my food.

There was absolutely no privacy for ANYONE. We had a "BM" chart where we had to record what kind of bowel movement we had made that day. If you forgot to sign it it resulted in demerits.

I remember having to do back breaking work made for a man to do. Carrying five gallon buckets of dirt, water, rocks. Work was always a priority over school. If there was a project to be done we were pulled out of school to do it. I feel we were used for labor many times.

I also remember a lot of food was donated to us from stores and food banks. The Williams and other staff would sort though it and use all the good food for themselves.

Most things I chose to forget and push out of my mind. I think Hephzibah House does more harm than help. Maybe their intentions are good but what they are doing is really no help. I hope my statement could be of some help.

Katherine (Kurrus) Shanks: Survivor!

I was a "student" at Hephzibah for 4 months at which point they told my parents I was demon possessed and a hopeless case, that I would never change. Needless to say they did not return any of the years worth of money my father paid them in advance.

I went in when I was 15.

During the time I was there I was "disciplined" twice by being held face down on the carpet by four adults and beaten with a large wooden paddle until I was bleeding. I was forced to wear diapers.

We did back breaking labor there, scrubbing the brick floors on our hands and knees every day, as well as the huge kitchens and multiple toilet and shower stalls. We were required to do strenuous workouts run by Theresa Dawson every day - military style workouts.

While we were fed plenty of food, none of it was the high calorie food we needed due to the large amount of work we did and I lost nearly 30 pounds in 4 months.

I quit menstruating after the first month. I was constantly humiliated, made to feel like a failure, physically pushed around, told I was hopeless, and once even stood up in front of the entire group of girls and told that until I "straightened up and quit being rebellious" my parents would never love me.

To this day nearly 10 years later I still have nightmares about that place.

Thank you,

Katherine (Kurrus) Shanks

Karen Glover: Survivor!

7-13-08

My name was Karen Glover. What it is now is irrelevant. For all intents and purposes here, you may all call me Karen. I was incarcerated in Hephzibah House from Aug 1980 to July 1982. Here is my story.....

I was your average teenage girl. I was 15, dealing with pubescent hormonal imbalances, defining myself as a person. I had a big brain and was never shy of vocalizing my opinions. I know my attitude was considered to be rebellious in church circles. I found the teachings of the church we attended to be small minded and narrow.

I never quite fit into the religious "right". My parents also changed the definition of "sin" to whatever suited them that month, which added to my confusion and distaste for the hypocrisy I was witnessing. My biggest "sin" was smoking cigarettes. They smoked, so I smoked. I never had voluntary sex. My grandfather molested me many times throughout my childhood but in my mind, I was a virgin. I was never arrested or had any legal problems, was never pregnant or thrown out of school. I was just your average, mouthy, questioning, attitudinal teenager.

I didn’t know I was going to a religious reform school when my parents woke me in the middle of the night. It was with great confusion that I was shuffled into the two-door car my parents borrowed from my grandfather. (as opposed to their four-door, from which I could have run) Once on the road, I was informed of my coming incarceration. Needless to say, I flipped out. I then spent the rest of the 7 hour trip in the back seat with my back to my parents. When necessary, they escorted me to the bathroom so I wouldn’t run away before getting there.

When I arrived at Hephzibah House, then at 508 School St, Winona Lake, IN, we were taken directly to the "Blue Room". I was quickly separated from my parents and taken upstairs by Mrs. Kagin. I was told to strip and bathe while she watched me. My belongings were taken from me and replaced by a uniform. I didn’t see my parents again for many months.

The first month was pure hell. I remember it was hard to keep all the new rules straight….when to stand and when to sit; when to talk and when to be silent. Communication to our families was strictly governed by the staff at HH. Phone calls were monitored and terminated if anything was spoken that they didn’t like. If this happened, we were disciplined for trying to be rebellious. Our outgoing letters were censored. If we wrote anything "unacceptable" like, "HELP! I’M BEING BEATEN TO DEATH!", we were made to re-write the letter and disciplined again. All incoming mail was read by staff and anything they didn’t want us to know was "blacked out".

Food: The food was horrid. Our breakfasts consisted of hot bran with a small bit of honey in the bottom of the bowl, and a glass of powdered milk which had a nasty taste. On weekends, we would get very eggy French toast or pancakes with sorghum syrup. For lunch we were fed egg salad sandwiches and sometimes soup. Dinner was usually a casserole of some kind, stretched with eggs. Unlimited amounts of eggs and mislabeled Campbell’s soups were donated to the "ministry" so we ate eggs and mixed cans of soup more often than anything else. After 6 months of unending eggs, many of us were belching sulfur. They decided our portion size and if we didn’t eat it all, we were given it cold for following meals until it was all gone. On the other end of the spectrum, we were taken to "all you can eat" buffets a few times a year and warned not to overeat. Having no choice over your food intake for months on end, then being given total choice over the same for the span of an hour thrice a year, made for some gluttony for sure! I remember going to the bathroom and trying to pass all the food so I wouldn’t be sick. If we got sick from eating too much, we were beaten. Talk about playing with our minds!

Menstruation: I started my period the first week I was there, which was not my scheduled time, and I never had another one for the 23 months of my incarceration. Since our bodily functions were not private, I knew the same thing happened to all the other girls who were there at that time. Charts were kept on the dorm door that marked our weight, bowel movements, menses, and bathing. I know excessive exercise and stress will cause amenorrhea (stopping of the menses). If this was the reason my periods stopped and never started again until I left HH, then how come it happened within days of my arrival? It takes months for excessive exercise and stress to effect a woman’s period.

I personally believe we were given veterinary hormones in the powdered milk. We girls were made to help with the food preparations. The one thing we were not allowed to handle was the making of the milk. At that time, it was made down in the staff quarters by one of the senior staff members. Of course, the hormone issue is speculation. My question for HH is this, if they weren’t poisoning us with hormones to stop our menses, then why didn’t they report the amenorrhea to parents or physicians? It is, after all, a severe medical condition. Especially alarming that it was happening to all of us there at that time.

Discipline: "Work Duties" were given, like demerits, for any infraction of the rules or jobs not done to their standards. When too many work duties were accumulated, penalties were given out in paddlings instead of work duties until one could work her duties down to a lower number. There was a period of two months when I was beaten almost every day because my work duty count was too high. We were assigned tasks, from cleaning to gleaning, from chipping tile to gardening, from shoveling manure to yard work. If there was a broken plant in our row of the weeding, we were beaten. If a duty was not performed to their satisfaction, we either got more work duties or beatings.

And by beatings I mean this – we were held down by female staff members at both our heads and our feet, while we were hit with a board measuring approx 2’x6"x1". Sometimes it was a female staff member holding the board. Other times it was either Ron Williams or Mr. Kagin. Mind you, Ron Willams is around 6’6" and surely weighs 285#. Silence and isolation were also used as discipline. As I noted earlier, I was smart and mouthy, a regular know-it-all. I was not allowed to speak to anyone, even if it was staff, for over 8 months. It was this complete isolation that finally broke my will.

Torture: Aside from the beatings, we were psychologically tortured in many ways. We were demeaned and ridiculed by staff, not allowed to use the bathroom when we needed to then shamed when we couldn’t hold our bowels or bladders any longer, exercised severely (I lost 80# in my first 8 months), shown fear inducing videos of what would happen to us and our souls if we didn’t convert, isolated from forming bonds with the other girls, made to keep our hair curled and beaten if it went straight during the day, given school work way below our abilities to prove we were stupid, forced to memorize gigantic amounts of bible and protestant catechisms involving hours of weekly testing, worked far too hard for the amount of calories we were given, not allowed to speak to anyone outside the "ministry", and even forced into prolonged silence (8 months worth in my case).

I believe the staff of HH used every opportunity to belittle us and degrade us to quicken the breaking of the will. All this time we were told we were sinners, useless, meaningless and unloved. How can young teens have any defense against such meanness?

Indoctrination: The amounts of scripture and catechism we had to learn were insurmountable. We were required to learn a verse a day, five days a week. This was accumulative. We had to recite them each week. So by the time a girl was there for six months, she was reciting approximately 120 verses of scripture weekly. Add to this the chapter of scripture and hymn per month we were required to learn for school and the individual verses required for each PACE we completed. These latter were not accumulative. For each error we made in recitation, we were dealt a work duty, and if our duties were too high, a beating instead.

We attended religious services raining hellfire and brimstone on us many times per week. We were periodically forced to watch hours of brutal Armageddon; rapture movies intended to scare us into conversion. We were taught scripture set to music and forced to sing them on both Ron Williams' radio show and at fundraising church events. We were forced to "sell" the man who was torturing us! This deep indoctrination left us little time to think or reason about our dilemma of imprisonment. I have forgotten more bible than most people will ever learn in the first place.

I have a very high IQ and an almost photographic memory. The school work and bible memory/catechisms were easy for me to deal with. I had great difficulty with the beatings, having to eat food that disgusted me, not being able to go to the bathroom when I needed to, and not having freedom of speech.

When I finally graduated from Hephzibah House Academy (the school branch of the "ministry"), I was allowed to go home provided my parents promised to send me to either Pensacola Christian College or Bob Jones University. Before I graduated, I was taken to a doctor’s office and vaginally inspected. I had no idea what was going on! To this day, I don’t know why they did that. I felt so violated and shamed.

My life since Hephzibah House has been a struggle at best. I attended PCC then BJU, totaling two years of college. During my time at Bob Jones University, I started seeing a therapist to work through my "attitude problems.” As I began to recover my self from the brainwashing of HH, I realized I didn’t want to follow a christian path. I didn’t want to be a part of a god that was so cruel. I left college and after a few promiscuous years I joined the military.

After the service, I worked in the sex industry and became deeply involved in the drug culture. I hated myself so much that I did everything I could, short of suicide, to destroy myself. Unfortunately, I believed what HH taught me about myself: that I was not a beautiful, unique creation, that I was a monster. I lived a very violent life for many years after I left HH. I truly feel their indoctrination and cult brainwashing techniques removed my ability to respect myself.

With a lot of work, therapy and love from friends, I have since found a spiritual path free of religion and violence. I found love for myself and for those around me through a pagan path. I used nature as my teacher. Nature taught me not to judge, to respect life and death, to see the balance in all things, to love my uniqueness, and to forgive.

I am forever grateful that I could heal past the hate into love and peace. I am forever grateful that there is not only one path to god. I have found love and have been in therapy my whole adult life to try to embrace that love, for others and for myself. I have forgiven my parents for sending me to HH. I have forgiven the church pastor who told my parents this was their only way to "save" me. I have even forgiven the staff and founder of HH for the torture through which they put me. I am still suffering from the scars and damage done by them and hope to be a part of closing Hephzibah House in the near future. I want the cult to end. I want the healing of young women to come through love and compassion, not torture and hatred.

I write all of this hoping one parent will read it and make a different decision for their daughter than mine did for me. To this day, my parents are sorry they did this to me. If they had known what was happening, they never would have left me there. Remember, the internet wasn’t around in the early 80’s for the easy gathering of information and we were not allowed to cry for help.