Cindy Giovannetti

Ron Williams frequently discredits his past students’ accusations as bitterness, piling on, forever unreliable due to teenage misdemeanors, or simply inaccurate.  I mean, who can really say what happened so long ago?

I was at Hephzibah House the summer of 1981. 

I was not there for being what Ron Williams considered a “wayward girl.”  In fact, I was “good enough” that he hired me as a summer staff member.

I was not abused at Hephzibah House.  Indeed, Ron was actually quite kind to me.  He was charming and charismatic.  He made me feel like an important part of the ministry that summer.  I loved him as a pastor and believed in the work he was doing. 

I left at the end of the summer in good standing.  I had no reason to be bitter against him and have never spoken against him in bitterness.

However, I will speak out against him. 

While Ron Williams didn’t abuse me, he did abuse the students, and he convinced us all that he had a special word from God to do so. 

I was so stunned by the harshness that I wrote about it in letters home to my then-boyfriend, now-husband.  I will share excerpts from these letters below.  

But first, I need to say something about collaboration. 

In 1981, we dared not speak of our dissatisfaction.  For example, we did not discuss the fact that we were hungry.  Never.  Not a word, not an eye roll, not a sigh.  No girl would have dared express discontent about anything. 

In fact, because all the other girls smiled pleasantly through all the trials, I sometimes wondered if I was the only one shocked by the situation.  

So, no, no one collaborated with me when I wrote down these observations. 

Nearly 30 years later when I reconnected with my former students, they told me they kept smiling only because they feared allowing any other emotion to cross their faces.  Virtually all of them were harmed by their experience at Hephzibah House.  I'm talking about permanent scars, both physical and emotional.

When someone encounters a true Christian ministry, they don’t walk away scarred.  If they walk away scarred, it wasn’t a Christian ministry they encountered.

So, here’s some of what I wrote home:

Observations of paddlings

“The other night Maria, my sweet girl, got in trouble.  The spanking was horrible!  She got eight licks!  Eight!  Eight licks! 

And I promise you, Sharon hit her as hard as she could!  It was like she thought she could beat the badness out of her.  It was like she was not hitting a human being at all.  

And this didn’t bother Sharon at all.  She did not have any spirit of sorrow.  No “this hurts me more than it hurts you.”  She just picked up that huge paddle and beat Maria with all the strength in her body, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, like it was nothing. 

I would pass out if somebody hit me that hard.  It is not like a normal spanking.  It is truly horrifying!”

“The girls are paddled constantly, but I’ll never get used to it.  It makes me feel sick.  They get anywhere from 7-10 licks for all sorts of minor offenses—for biting their fingernails, for not being feminine, for pride, for being homesick, for crying. 

And Pastor Williams beats them hard!  I’ve had my share of spankings, but nobody has ever hit me that way.  I’d pass out.  I don’t know how they stand it day after day, night after night.” 

 “The absolute worst thing that they do here is the nightly spankings.  We tuck the girls in bed.  We kiss them goodnight.  Then, presumably, they begin to fall asleep hoping to be left to sleep until morning.  

But then Miss Emery begins calling names over the intercom for them to get out of bed, go down the stairs, and be paddled. 

I lie on my mattress (in the floor) [staff members slept in the floor across the doorway] dreading to hear the next name she calls out, even though I know she won’t be calling mine!  I cringe and cry a little with every name I hear.  I can’t even imagine how terrified the girls must be.” 

“We have this system for punishments.  When a girl does something wrong, we assign work duties, which are like demerits, except you have to work them off.  It takes an hour to work off a work duty.  If you get over 35, you get paddled every night until you’re down under 35.”

“And poor little Cherie is so little.  She gets paddled every night because she has more than 35 work duties.  She is not allowed to speak to anybody but staff.  She is really not doing well.  I mean physically.  She looks just awful.  Her skin is all broken out in a terrible rash.  It’s all over her body.  She’s so thin, and she looks terrible.  She must be miserable.  It just breaks my heart.”

About the food

“I could not eat the first meal they served me.   We had a huge plate of leaves with no salad dressing.  Do not picture the kind of lettuce that comes in a head from the grocery store.  This plant comes out of a garden.  It has the texture of canvas and the taste of grass.  And no dressing!  Also we had a large Cool Whip tub full of beans (no seasoning).  Each.  I ate about a third of each.  It was awful!  Oh, and we had water to drink.

“The next morning for breakfast we had a fried egg and powdered milk.  It tasted awful!  The milk wasn’t even cold.  But no one dared say a word.  I ate.  I drank.”

“I dread each meal.”

“For supper last night we had huge bowls of spinach with sardines.  Then, for breakfast we had a bowl of bran.  Not Bran Flakes.  Not Raisin Bran.  Just the stuff that looks like dust like you would buy at a health food store, soaked in water.  It has no flavor.  It has the texture of wet sawdust.  It is very hard to swallow.  I feel like I’m a missionary to Africa.”

“The food here doesn’t taste a bit better.  I can barely force myself to swallow it – but I do.  It’s important for the girls that I eat it.  I’m famished, but I don’t want any more!

My main problem is the lettuce/grass and the huge bowls of greens.  Sometimes it’s gritty with dirt.  And we have it almost every day.  Huge bowls of it.  Which must be consumed, grit and all.  Last night for supper we had a bowl of beans.  The night before that, it was boiled chicken wings.  (Don’t even imagine any tasty sauce.)  This morning we had plain bran again.  We are hungry all the time.”

“The atmosphere around our dinner table is nothing short of oppressive.  The girls are afraid to say the wrong thing, to look at the wrong person, to grimace at the taste of the food.  Miss Emery snaps at every mistake.  The girls who aren’t allowed to eat sit in hungry silence.”

“The girls have to work off three “work duties” a day (and five on Saturday) in order to be allowed supper each night.  Supper is the biggest meal of the day, so to miss supper means missing most of the day’s food (especially on Saturdays when we only get two meals.)  It is truly pitiful to see the girls who aren’t allowed to eat sitting on the couch with nothing to do but watch us eat.” 

“Meanwhile, the girls are hungry, and I mean seriously hungry.  Their stomachs growl constantly.  The ones who have been here a long time are painfully thin.  Renee looks like she’s about to starve to death."

About the work

“I wish you could understand the work here.  I could never describe it so that you would get a good mental picture of it.  The girls do hard manual labor every moment that they’re not in school.  Some of it is regular cleaning and scrubbing.  But some of it is heavy outdoor labor like a man would do.  They are just exhausted all the time.  Some of them are so thin!”

“We do so much work in that dang garden!  Saturdays we work in the garden all day, without even a break for lunch.  It’s hard, hard work, and the time drags unbearably.  Sometimes we can chat, and that makes it so much sweeter.  Other times, though, either the girls aren’t allowed to talk or we’re too far apart. 

Saturday nights, after working all day in the blazing sun, my arms are lobster red with sunburn, and I’m covered with bug bites.  I’m just exhausted.  We all are.”

About the isolation

“We just got two new girls Dawn and Cheri.  Pray for them.  It’s a very lonely time.  They aren’t allowed to talk to each other or the other girls.  They have no contact with their family or former friends.  It’s a terrible adjustment.”

“They are allowed one phone call every three weeks after they’ve been here one month.  But they only get to make the call if they have less than 9 work duties and at least an 87% on scripture memory (not an easy task).  Naturally, that means a lot of the girls miss their phone calls. 

And, when they make their call home, a staff member is on the line with them so they can’t complain or beg their parents to come get them.  They’re not even allowed to cry.  If they start crying, the staff member will cut off the call immediately.”

Just plain meanness

“Miss Emry and Sharon snap at the girls, talk down to them, and criticize them constantly.  Like at breakfast today, Miss Emry said, “Karen, your hair looks terrible!  Remind me to give you a work duty.”  (Remember, after 35 work duties, each one translates into a paddling, so essentially, Karen was going to be spanked for her hair being messy.)” 

“You would not believe the room checks!  We don’t have daily room checks.  We have spot checks.  It includes everything:  inside drawers, inside closets, shelves, beds, etc.  Whatever doesn’t check gets stripped and dumped all over the floor!  You’ve never seen such a mess in all your life!  It’s like a crime scene.  I can’t tell you how shocked I was the first time I saw this.”

No love

“I guess what I like least about it here is that this is not a place of happiness.  Someone is always in trouble, or scared, or crying, getting paddled, or being criticized.”

“If anybody is loving these girls, I don’t see it.  They are regarded, spoken to, and treated very harshly.”

“I just wish the girls could be loved.  They do not feel loved -- not by the Williams, not by the staff, not by their families, not by God.  Pastor Williams says I’m naïve about this.”

“I wanted to tell her [Mrs. Williams] how much the girls are starved for love.  How lonely, confused, and discouraged they are.  How severely they are punished.  How afraid they are.  Surely she wouldn’t want her own children to be treated like that, would she?”

Because I was only there three months, I wasn’t privy to everything that ever happened.  For instance, I don’t remember any diapers or other toileting issues.   I don’t doubt this happened, based on so many testimonies; but I don’t remember it going on the summer of 1981. 

I also wasn’t aware of the pelvic exams.  I don’t doubt this happened either, based on so many testimonies, but I can’t vouch for it personally.  

I can vouch that Ron Williams preached to them daily about the utter importance of their purity and modesty.  It is beyond me how he thought they could reconcile the constant deification of purity with his authorizing their violation.

I can also verify the lack of menstruation.  None of the girls menstruated the summer of 1981.  I have no explanation for why this was, but it can’t be anything good.  And no staff member was unaware of it as it was charted and posted publicly.

But maybe Ron Williams has changed since then 1981!

If he, indeed, had instruction from God on how to manage girls (as he claimed often in recorded sermons and published literature), he can’t have changed much because God’s word hasn’t changed.  But if his methodology was not from God, and thus he was free to change it, then he owes the girls from 1981 an apology for the harm he did to them.

Connie White

To Whom It May Concern: My name is Connie Staie White. I am the daughter of Pastor Byron Staie, Fundamental Independent Baptist. I am am also a former student of Ambassador Baptist College. Seventeen years ago, while attending ABC, I served a summer session at Hephzibah House in Indiana with Pastor Ron Williams . I was absolutely dumbfounded at what I discovered there. The day-to-day mode of operation within this facility reminded me very much of a what I would expect to find in a Nazi concentration camp. Never have I seen humiliation and psychological tactics so skillfully employed. The staff carefully spread the word that one girl was ”contagious” with an STD. All girls knew they had to wait a certain length of time before using the toilet after this girl. The girls were then made to watch scary movies about the AIDS epidemic and how ”easy” it is to catch AIDS. Today, as a registered nurse and director of nursing, I see this practice for what it is, a form of bullying and psychological abuse.

Very few girls had periods while at the falicity. It was public knowledge when a girl did have a period. Pads were rationed and carefully monitored as though they were a controlled substance. I personally do not remember having a period while I was at the facility. However, my period has been (before then and since then) as timely as clockwork.

The girls were required to work in storehouses with delicious looking food and other fancy donations. However, these items were used for the Williams' family only. The girls ate out of unlabeled cans. Whatever was opened is whatever was served. I feel very confident in saying that the girls were served canned dog food many times. The girls were allowed to choose small portions or large portions. The amount of food in these portions routinely changed. If the girl chose large portions, they would sometimes be given more than any adult man could eat. If they did not eat every bite, they would be punished. Similarly, if they chose small portions, the portions may be just enough to feed a toddler.

If the staff decided that a girl had an ”attitude,” she would be punished by not being allowed to make eye contact with any other girl. If the girls had ”misbehaved,” they were signified by what they wore to church. This way, the church members knew that they had been ”bad.” Interestingly, I never once saw a single girl misbehave the entire time that I was there. Yet still, they were routinely punished. Although I was a staff member, my personal phone calls were monitored. Pastor Williams quizzed me about my bowel habits as well. The living conditions were so suppressive and inhumane that I wet the bed while working there. Before you consider recommending this facility to a family, please consider how our Father disciplines. Yes, whom the Lord loveth, He chastens. Please remember however, to consider the whole Scripture. Proverbs 29:21 ”He that delicately bringeth up his servant from a child shall have him become his son at the length.”
Blessings,
Connie White

Wilva Roach

This has made me very upset, how could a staff lady who has been there for 6 years say nothing goes on at HH. I am a former staff and yes stuff did go on. Some of the staff had "teacher's pets" while the other girls were treated unfairly--I have seen it. Sarah (former staffer) really forgot to mention some other things that I think are abuse-- eating outdated food, denying necessities and food from the girls, the prison line for the bathroom, 3 minute showers and yes some of the lesser liked staffers like me had to abide by that same rule. I had food withheld from me because rumor was that I was a diabetic which didn't occur until well down the road after i had left HH. Unless things had drastically changed, there were forms of abuse there. I mean scrubbing brick floors on hands and knees sometimes with a toothbrush-come-on! I felt really bad for these girls and when my contract ended I worked about another 6 mos. and decided to end my job there as a staffer. Oh and the demerits for stupid stuff just so the girls had to write sentences--I felt for many of them they seemed liked they were always in "trouble". Treats were withheld from them and they had to sit in the same room while the others ate the treat in front of them. I could go on and on--but I won't. Let me add too, I didn't know Lucinda, but she's had it hard in life it seems so by the time she reached HH it may have seemed like a safe haven to her. She's come through some rough stuff so the abuse that she may have endured at HH was "baby stuff" to her. I feel for her "blindness" to the abuse that was at HH. By the way when I left HH I asked for newsletters to be sent to my house and the first one i got was a statement from Patti saying the Devil got another one of the hearts of a staff member. She was referring to me.

Lea Devers Testimony

My name is Lea Devers and I served at Hephzibah House during the summer of 1995.

I attended college with the Williams’ son. Mr. and Mrs. Williams would come down to visit him and always seemed like okay people. I knew they ran a girl’s home. I am not sure if they presented their ministry at the school or not. During the summer between my junior and senior year of college I wanted to go on a mission trip. I wrote Mrs. Williams and asked her about working at HH for the summer. She immediately answered and things went from there.

I was required to raise support. I am not sure why. Even on my days off, it was very difficult to get into town to purchase needed items. I would have to ask one of the outside (someone who was not kept in lockdown with the girls) staff members for a ride. They would sometimes very reluctantly take me to a store.

As you walked into the house, there was a huge bunch of eucalyptus hanging. Every time I smell eucalyptus I feel the oppression of feeling that nothing I did could ever be good enough. I spent a lot of time on that staircase because cleaning it was one of the chores of the work crew I was frequently assigned to.

Words cannot express what it felt like to be watched 24/7. Every word, deed, facial expression was critiqued. You never knew when something that you had done so many times before would suddenly not be good enough or be found offensive.

I had not been informed that I would have to eat and drink everything that was served to me. The first morning I was there we were served powdered milk for breakfast. It was really horrible and I did not finish it. My cup was brought back to me by Miss Saylor with the command to finish it.

I did quite a bit of kitchen duty. The food that I was required to cook was less than healthy. I would have to open cans and dump them into a pot to make “soup”. This doesn’t sound so bad until you know that the cans had no labels. You never knew what would be in there. (Fruit did not have to go into the soup.)

We were always served “pancakes” on Sunday morning. This was a heavy cake that was cooked on Saturday night. By the time Sunday morning came around, the cake was very dry. I asked if it would be okay to warm the pancakes up before serving them to the girls. I was told no!

During my daily tasks, I would pass a cupboard full of wonderful foods. I was told that these were foods that people had donated for the girls. I wonder how upset the people who donated it would have been if they knew the girls never saw any of it? This food was used by the Williams’ family.

The girls were kept to a strict three minute shower. Occasionally, I would be given the duty of sitting in the hallway and timing the girls in their shower. I would sit right outside of the bathroom door where the BM chart was located. What an embarrassing thing for the girls!

All of the mail the girls received or sent was censored. Many of their letters were covered with black marker when they received them. These girls were desperate for outside contact. When they received it, it would be marked through. Very sad.

Miss Saylor always listened to the girls’ telephone conversations with their parents. I clearly remember a time when she hung up on a girl’s parents. They must have been talking about a taboo subject. The girl was very upset.

Night time was interesting. Everything was locked down. There was an alarm that went off if someone started down the hallway. A senior staff lady would sleep outside of the bathroom door. If you had to use the bathroom, you had to wake this lady up so she would know why the alarm went off. One night I got in trouble because I had to get up twice.

We slept on mattresses that were covered in blue vinyl/plastic. Miss Saylor told me the mattresses had been donated by the AIDS ward of a local hospital.

One day I made the casual comment that I did not think Naomi liked me. (She had never shown any interest in or seemed to want to know anything about me.) That night I was called upstairs and Ron Williams proceeded to tell me how wicked I was.

I had been given a set of keys that could be used to unlock the door leading out of the basement where the girls stayed. These were taken from me as a form of punishment. I really felt like a prisoner then!!

The girls were lined up to go into church. We always went in after the service started and left before it ended. I was never able to meet any of the people outside of the HH staff.

I spent some time helping in the office. This is the place where the stamps are sorted and the soup can labels are cut up and banded together. All I remember is thinking what a mess everything was. I have always been a neat person and the piles of papers spread everywhere drove me crazy. There was a staff family who also lived there. Their housekeeping habits left A LOT to be desired!

Mrs. Williams discovered I could sew. Wenda needed new curtains so they formed a sewing party. I remember that day with horror. These ladies (Mrs. Williams and Wenda) were sitting around the table talking about certain of their family members as though they hated them. It was clear that the people they were talking about could never be good enough to be really accepted. That day just confirmed the things I had picked up on already.

I somehow caught a virus. I was very ill! I was told I could lay down for a few hours. During that time, I was never checked on or asked if I needed anything. I was still very ill the next day, but was expected to get up and do my chores. The grace of God helped me do it.

We used a lot of bleach. The walls, floors, beds, etc. were regularly washed down with bleach. I am not sure if this was a health thing or just a way to give the girls more work.

We were not supposed to ask the girls anything about their home life or where they lived. I never understood why until later. If we did not know where a girl lived, we could not contact her and ask her to share her experiences at HH. This was before the day of the web which made the world a lot smaller and information a lot easier to find.

I do remember there were certain girls who were not allowed to talk to other girls. Most of the time, the junior workers would not find out why girls were punished. We were no more trusted than the girls. I always felt very sorry for the girls who seemed to receive punishment for no or very little reason.

The girls were very sweet. A lot of them would write me notes to thank me for being there or for doing something special for them. I was told to give these notes to the Williams’ before leaving HH. I didn’t. They are in my scrapbook. Those letters were written to me and I did not think anyone had the right to take them from me.

When I look back to that summer, I can still feel the oppression. I can feel what it was like for every move and word to be watched. To know that nothing I did could ever be good enough. I would never, ever recommend anyone going to HH as a worker. I would definitely ask a parent to NEVER, EVER send their child to HH.

Daughter of Loretta Wheeler- Angela ~ Daughter of Former Staff

I want to say that I'm so sorry for the abuse these monsters have caused. No woman should ever be abused in this way.

I know all to well the abuse that went on not only to the girls but also to the Williams kids as well. I was one of their so-called- foster kids that lived in their home while my mom was on their staff. She finally left because of the abuse on me and my brother. I just can not believe these people still exist!

About Benjamin, he was around 3 when they use to beat him. I'll bet he got beat about 3 times a day. Seth was only 5 months when they were beating him. Joel was such a sweet heart, him and Aaron got beat daily, and I think just about everyone except Heather and Donnie got beat daily.

And let me tell you...that Patti wore the pants in that family! She was very mean. My brother to this day still has some really bad memories as well.

Loretta Wheeler: Survivor! ~ and Former Staff

I was a former girl that lived there and then a staff member.

The Williamses were horrible. I brought my kids there and thought Ron and Patti were there to help, but all they did is use the Bible to teach us how to abuse kids and judge all mankind.

All they teach is fear, everything negative. Sister Patti should be treated the same way as she treated everyone else. She is so mean. These people have created so much pain and hardship for so many. I remember Patti always cutting down everyone.

The churches that supported them and the wives and pastors of these churches, not knowingly a lot of people with the right intentions sent support financially and otherwise for the girls. They did not realize that most of the good stuff was withheld and given to the Williamses, and the girls got scraps of food or clothing.

Patti would insult all these people. She was so lazy. Just commanding all the time while she did nothing, Abusing donations and the donors. All she was – was a baby factory. Lazy, lazy, lazy.

Just so many painful memories. I hope there is justice here.

Loretta

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.

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)