23-A few anomalies

 

I list here a few of the anomalies which developed during the "Mexican Ministry" period.  These are examples of a few things that caused me to be pushed out of the ABC the first time.  

 

I was charged with being "rebellious" because I did not just go along with every endeavor my father put forward.  One of the most prominent changes that occurred during this period was the introduction of the clerical collar. My father decided we must assume the Mexican custom of the collar for "priests" and it was expected, if we went into Mexico, we would wear a clerical collar.  This eventually became a custom of being worn in San Diego as well. I had always considered we, the ABC, to be different from other churches and we, I had been taught for many many years, were the exception to the rest of "Mystery Babylon". 

The ABC considers the Catholic church, and all her denominational daughters, to be Mystery Babylon and her harlot daughters spoken of in Revelation. We all knew, or thought we knew anyhow, we differed from the rest because we met in homes, had no name (even though we really did have a name), did not ride on the back of the government (even though we had now incorporated and shared in the same tax breaks all the other denominational churches did) and it was certain we did not do things like the Catholic church (even though we were now expected to wear clerical collars and have the people kiss our rings). This sudden abandonment of theological position, to such a large degree, was disillusioning for me. It caused me to inspect what we were actually building and made me realize we were not that much different from any  other denominational church. We were, in fact, just another denomination born out of other movements. This did not sit well with me. It forever ended my illusion that the ABC was "different" and not a denomination.  True, we met in homes, instead of church buildings, but everything else was mostly the same as any other denominational church. We were a new denomination and an aberrant church causing injury to many and a seemingly cultish one at that.

I refused to buy a clerical shirt, even though I had been commanded to do so by my  "father in the Lord". I came home from work one day to find one hanging on my front door with a note ordering me to wear it.  There was a teaching in the ABC we were to be "experimental believers" so I did wear it once or twice to Mexico; to experiment; but when people began to kiss my ring, as if I were a Catholic priest, I became very uncomfortable.  When I expressed my discomfort to my father, I was told I needed to allow it as it was their way of showing respect for my position but it still bothered me immensely and I decided I would just stay away from the Mexico meetings.

The "Mexican Ministry" began to consume more money than was currently coming in through tithe and offering.  Any alms that came in were kept secret so no one had any idea how much money was actually coming in earmarked as “alms”.  The tithe money was paying for the "Casa Grande" (a huge house in Chula Vista California), a trailer in the mountains, a condo at the beach, a fleet of vehicles, lots and lots of new furniture and lots and lots and lots of  other stuff. This was all very expensive stuff and very little money was actually making its way to helping Mexican families in their poverty.  The theory, as my dad explains on the Luis tape, is that tithes and offerings could not ever be  used to help someone in need...only alms could be used for that. The tithes and offerings began paying for lots of  things that "supported" bringing teachings to Mexico but little or none was used  to feed the poor or help them in their poverty. If an alm came in, that money was allegedly used to buy Bibles, but this could not be verified. All of these things did not sit well with many people and it began to create quite a rift, not just in San Diego, but among people everywhere. It eventually caused two major splits in the church.

To raise additional money and "keep the corporation afloat", bake sales were initiated in front of various supermarkets around San Diego. It was expected we would all bake goodies for these sales then help staff the tables on weekends. Knowing the money was not flowing to Mexico, to help those in poverty, I took part in none of them. This was another one of my "rebellions". 

 

Another method to acquire more money was to have members of the ABC sit, during the middle of the night, at highway rest stops to give out "free" coffee then ask for donations for the "Mexican Ministry" from travelers. Many in the ABC did not take part in this endeavor since they were not comfortable giving the impression the money raised was being used to feed or clothe Mexicans. It was not. It just bought more stuff for the Casa Grande and supported an ever more lavish lifestyle. Another one of my "rebellions".

One of the more unusual ways the Mexican Ministry "ministered" to the shopkeepers was through hauling goods for them across the border in the trunks of cars; as if the goods were souvenirs. These goods were then packaged for shipment on the U.S. side and sent to stores in Los Angeles. By doing this, the shopkeepers avoided duty on their goods as they passed across the border, and they could then undercut their competitor's price. This greatly increased their sales and allowed them to grow their businesses more quickly. It was also very illegal. If discovered, the shopkeeper taking part would lose their merchandise and be fined. However, the U.S. citizen assisting in this smuggling of goods, to avoid duty, would have their car seized at the border and would possibly be arrested and charged with a crime.  Many, including me, chose not to take part in this smuggling. This was another one of my "rebellions". The shopkeepers made more sales as a result of avoiding duty but were told prayers in their shops were the reason for the good fortune, not the smuggling.

I arrived at the Casa Grande one weekday morning and was told, by my father, I was being made the new treasurer of the corporation.  About an hour after I arrived, everyone left to Mexico to visit the shopkeepers, and I remained behind. During my day at the Casa Grande I received a phone call from the Internal Revenue Service.  They had made me treasurer just that morning so I knew nothing about what was going on and could not answer any of their questions knowledgeably.  When everyone returned from Mexico that afternoon I inquired, as "the new treasurer", what was going on with the IRS. I wanted to know why they were investigating the church.  The only reply I got back was "maybe it's not a good idea to have you as the treasurer after all."  That was that. I was treasurer for just one day and never did discover what the IRS trouble was all about.  I do have my suspicions on this however. My father was of the impression a "minister" was exempt from paying FICA and Income taxes. This was not true and he obtained this information from questionable sources. As an "employee" of the church FICA taxes must be paid on both sides, 7.65% by the church, and 7.65% withheld from the paycheck of anyone paid by the church. Income taxes are due at the rate established by income level and returns must be filed. The church, as a non-profit, is exempt from income tax. I do not know the current status of this issue in the church but, based on one of my last conversations with Gilbert Larson on this subject, he also stated taxes were not due on his pay. They are due and should any be audited that have not paid tax there will also be substantial penalties and interest.  Give unto Caesar...

Anyone in the San Diego group who chose not to take part in these endeavors was soon listed as "rebellious". I was among those who chose not to take part. Many of the things happening seemed not right. I have mentioned only a very few things here to illustrate life in San Diego during the Mexican Ministry days. There were many many other incidents, some much worse. Things that should not be put into print.  The general theme was, if you did not do what you were told, you were  labeled "rebellious", would be humiliated, and eventually be put out.  There was a great absence of free will, a distinctive mark of a cult.

A group of three families were put out in one day at a  "body counsel" over these "rebellions".  All of us men who were put out were considered  "elders" at the time. One of these  families moved to Washington, another remained in San Diego for a short period then moved to Arizona. I stayed behind for about a year before  moving to the northwest again. One of these men eventually divorced, returned to the ABC, then remarried. I have heard the other couple returned recently as well. 

 

When I got away from the  hustle-bustle of the "Mexican Ministry", and the constant commands from my dad to "go do this" or "go do that", it was once again a time of peace.  This  would last for a number of years before I would, unfortunately, return to the ABC again myself. I was soon after acknowledged again as an "elder" but this time I was  to be "eternally judged" then ousted for all of eternity. This time however it was not for the sin of “rebellion” but was instead for "committing blasphemy".

I put this narrative forward as a "history" of the Assembly of the Body of Christ" but, in reality, it is a history taken from a mostly singular perspective...mine. I have relied some on letters, teachings and documents that show the rise of this church out of the "Latter Rain Revival" movement plus show how it progressed through various stages to get to where it is today. Much is based on my own observations, along with the accounts of others.  I have tried to avoid the "pointing of the finger" but undoubtedly failed some in that regard. I am perfectly willing to accept anytime I point  the finger I have three fingers pointing back at me.  Some of these issues still hold pent up emotion for me because I'm human. I lost a great deal in the final round of betrayals.  If someone were to write a history of my life, it would include a share of pitfalls, foibles, errors and things I would not be proud of.  We all make mistakes and I do not write this to place myself above any other, simply to expose the true history.

Most of my purpose in writing this narrative is to illustrate the path followed by the ABC to where it is today is not as has been portrayed to its members and followers. To be blunt, there have been a great many lies told to cover up the true path it followed, and still follows to this day. The truth is quite far from the map shown to newcomers. There are many falsehoods told to make the ABC look different from what it really is. Entering its doors is unwise.

While it is true my dad was not great at the family thing, I too failed in that regard.  I was much too hard on my kids as they grew up, did not give them the space they needed to grow, was overbearing and, as a result, am not as close to them as I would like.  I parented the best I could, given the information I had at hand, but that information was highly deficient and cruel. I had no good model to follow in my life and this, more than anything else, brings me the most pain. If one examines the outcome of the children of those in the ABC, there is a consistent pattern of kids rejecting the path their parents followed since it is full of abuses.

Some have expressed sympathy I have been through so many things.  I do not need sympathy because most, if not all of us, go through similar storms in our lives. The storms that passed through my life were just more visible than most because my father was a minor celebrity in his own right; having started this new denomination. He was respected for his position as the founder and leader of this new denomination, but that type of respect only leads to the formation of myths and utter falsehoods about his character. Even today, long after his death, his teachings are considered the "ordained" teachings of the ABC and anything outside of that is suspect. My father's teachings stemmed directly from the other men I have written about (Watt, Prince....) and they undoubtedly drew these from others they followed. And so it goes all the way  back through history. 

I have been mostly a willing, and ignorant, participant in my life. I made my own decisions based on the information I had at hand at the time. Many times that was the wrong decision. I think nearly every person looks back on their life and wishes they could go back and do it all over again, make the right decisions this time.  It is not possible so we are left to live the life we construct. I fear in my ramblings I may have written things that could be construed as bitterness towards my father. There was a day indeed I was bitter against him. I have, years ago, resolved that bitterness, but it has not ended the sadness I feel when I see our broken family.  I am, however, no longer angry with him.
 
I believe my dad meant well when he began the ABC, but he made the error of translating his abusive family practices into the building of an abusive, aberrant, denomination without finding repentance. This carryover into church doctrine caused many episodes of abandonment in the church over the years. My father abandoned his entire family, so it is to be expected the religious institution he started would also behave much the same.

This journey taken through this very abbreviated part of my history has brought me many difficulties emotionally. Like Solomon in Ecclesiastes, I too have thrown up my hands and stated it is all just vanity and not worth it. It has been a worthwhile journey to write this down. It has helped me understand where I sprang from. It has helped me burn a great deal of wood, hay and stubble in my thoughts in the process. I am a much better person for it. Like the parable of the good Samaritan I am much more tolerant and kind to persons I meet on the way who are much different than me. The Pharisaical ego I once had is mostly gone. The fires have burned large in my life and, when they died down, I had not much left to call my own but I, like Solomon,  reach the end of the matter.

NEXT POST

22-A letter

 

Below is a letter sent out by the ABC in about June 1983. There were many rumblings about the way money was being used by the “Mexican Ministry" and this ” letter was intended to quiet the agitations. It was not effective and was essentially a threat to all in the ABC they must not make waves, or question how the money was being used, or there would be consequences. The underlying theme being, in the third paragraph, if people continued to "rebel" God would kill them. No one died.

 

NEXT POST

21-The Progression of the Mexican Ministry

In a previous post I covered the actual rooting of the Mexican Ministry into the ABC with the story of Luis. This post explains the growth.

 

The Mexican Ministry began to take visible shape about the time I returned to San Diego. My father’s visits to, and befriending of, the shopkeepers in Tijuana eventually yielded visits to their homes and this brought requests for teachings. Homes were then needed in Mexico for the foundation meetings but most homes in Tijuana were tiny, some had dirt floors, and none would accommodate a large meeting. Rather than renting a building or hall a small apartment was rented in the La Playa area of Tijuana on the western edge of town. This was close to San Diego, but Tijuana roads were seldom maintained and this made for very treacherous driving at times. It was a long slow commute up the hill, made worse when it rained. It was not unusual in a heavy downpour to find these roadways had become raging torrents of flood water. Often in Tijuana entire homes would wash down the hills in these downpours since they were built on tires and other debris and not concrete foundations to bedrock. There were usually a numbers of deaths from these floods. Poverty can be deadly.

The Crown Victoria, and other sedans, my father was using to get to this apartment; and to pick up some of the Mexican people on the way; were not suited for the journey over deeply rutted roads so an offering was requested to buy a large van. The money was raised, a van was purchased, but within months it was apparent this vehicle too  would not hold up to the strain of the Tijuana roads. Another call went out for more money to purchase a large Chevy Suburban with four-wheel drive and a high clearance suspension. This was a more effective vehicle to maneuver the back roads and alleys of Tijuana, and became a bus of sorts picking up people to take to the meetings.

I was at a few of the meetings at the La Playa apartment. There were usually about five or six people from Tijuana, and about the same number would travel over from the states. These were typical foundation meeting with singing (one of the Mexican people had translated a few of the songs into Spanish), a teaching out of the Greek, spoken in English then interpreted into Spanish by a man named Pablo then prayer for any needs. It was not possible to construct a teaching the same as before since the ABC relies heavily on the Greek to develop its teaching points. To teach from the Greek required translating first from Greek into English, then from English into Spanish. This was proving quite difficult and the teachings moved in very slow motion. Most attending politely nodded their heads but no one really knew if the nodding meant they truly understood, or were just being courteous since no one from the states spoke much Spanish. I suspect it is the latter.

Not long after the apartment was rented in La Playa a large storm washed away the road making the apartment inaccessible without a long drive through side roads. This meant it would now take more than an hour to drive each way over rutted treacherous roads. A search was made for a new location to hold the meetings and eventually a large house was rented closer to central Tijuana. This home sat on top of a hill overlooking all of Tijuana and was constructed of stucco, stone and brick with lots of wrought iron. I took the pictures below at this house. The first picture was a kid's birthday party and the second is the view from this house at night. It had quite a view looking out over Tijuana.


This house was too big to justify renting just for meetings so David North moved his family to the house, enrolled his children in Mexican school, then commuted each day across the border into San Diego to work. There was not much left at the La Playa apartment for meetings; just a whiteboard and some chairs; but after the move to the big house it still needed to be retrieved. I was enlisted for that long drive to retrieve them and David North rode along with me. Since I had to do this after work this meant driving into Tijuana after dark and, while in Mexico, one of my headlights burned out. A local police officer, who spoke little English, stopped me. I spoke very little Spanish but  understood enough to know he wanted to take my car because it was not "legal". He planned to drop us off at the airport to fly back to San Diego from Tijuana. This was totally impractical as the distance between the two airports was perhaps twenty miles at best. David North paid the officer money and this caused him to "forget" about impounding my car and he let us go. It was a tense moment. We found a headlamp at a little shop in La Playa and changed it before heading back to San Diego.

Meetings were held at the large central Tijuana house for several months, but the massive flooding in La Playa, and other areas, had forced the Mexican government to address the housing situation and most of the participants had been moved far east from the downtown core. Flooding problems occurred during every storm on the hilly areas so the government built large tenements of solid concrete on a mesa near the Tijuana airport where flooding was never a problem. The church gave up the house and David North and family moved back across the border to the Casa Grande. Having a permanent house in Tijuana was  then abandoned forever. My stepmother, Yvonne, would later acquire another home in Tijuana, after my father's death, after starting her own new ministry in Tijuana. I will address that separately since it was not an official "sanctioned" part of the ABC.

The meetings moved to the home of a woman everyone called  "mama". On meeting days the Suburban would leave San Diego several hours before the start time, make a "bus run" to pick up anyone who lived too far to walk, and take them to these meetings. Most of the participants were related in some way and all were very poor. Nothing was ever done to aid their poverty, the ABC provided only teachings in Greek word studies.

Altogether there was only a handful of people's lives "The Mexican Ministry" ever touched. It officially ended not long after my father's death. I do not know exactly when, since I was not around but I do know, from what I heard, San Diego became a battleground for power and control and Yvonne, my stepmother, would leave the ABC to continue the Mexican Ministry on her own. During this time she negotiated a permanent pension from the tithes.  I was not part of the ABC then, but received regular updates on the progress from Yvonne by form letter.

In the next post, and the one following, I will introduce a threatening letter sent to all in the ABC and some anomalies that developed. Mostly because of the forming of the "Mexican Ministry".

NEXT POST

20-San Diego-Heart and Family

I can only describe activities in San Diego over the next few years as frenetic.  The all-consuming pace  of the San Diego / Mexico events  caused most everything to run together in the sands of my memory so I have divided this section into separate subjects rather than chronological. I find it impossible to keep a precise timeline because the pace was so fast, the incidents so strange and some quite severe.  I know very little of what happened in the other areas during this time; Grants Pass, Vancouver / Portland, Denver, etc. During this era I focus my observations strictly on the San Diego /Mexico events because that is what I personally witnessed.

I lived in San Diego, this time, until February of 1985. I had been ex-communicated and removed from the ABC in January 1984 by my father but I still lived and worked in San Diego. I had little contact with the ABC during that final year then left San Diego and moved back to the Puget Sound region.

FAMILY CHANGES

Not long after returning to San Diego; in February 1980; my grandmother, on my father's side, passed away. It was not unexpected as she had pancreatic cancer; but it was still difficult.  I dearly loved her and, knowing she was so ill, I made an out of the way trip to her place on my move back to San Diego. I knew this would be the last time I would ever see her and it was heartbreaking to leave. It still feels like a great loss to me. Some of the best days of my life were spent with this grandmother in Seattle at her house. Her death was quite a blow to me as well as my father. Having been an only child my father had always been close to his mother and we visited often. We spent nearly every Thanksgiving or Christmas at her house as  was growing up. She was an incredible person and I still miss very much.

About two years after my grandmother died my grandfather, on my father's side, also died. I was somewhat close to this grandfather but he was never a talkative man and I know very little about his life. He was kind, but not close in the same way my grandmother was. His death created a great deal of tension in the family because of "things". My father, worried other members of the family would swoop in and grab stuff from his apartment, had me accompany him on a mad dash to Kennewick to empty out the contents and drive it all back to San Diego in a U-Haul truck. I did not know then what we were doing was technically illegal since probate had not yet completed. It was rumored later, by my next older brother, we had taken things from the apartment pledged to him by my grandmother in her will. That may have been; I really don't know. I received nothing from my grandmother's things either and it all went to fill up my dad's home; the Casa Grande in San Diego. It had been rumored an account had been established for each of us three grandchildren by my grandmother, payable after my grandfather's passing, and this may be true as well, but my father was executor of the estate and refused to show any of us the will. No copy was ever filed with the county as the estate was relatively small.  I moved on; it was just money and things, but these allegation by other family members I had been a party to this "theft" were simply not true. I had no personal stake in this trip and simply helped drive the truck back to San Diego at my father’s request.

My father, still in recovery from heart surgery during this trip to Kennewick, planned to drive my grandfather's car back to San Diego. He became so weak during the trip he was unable to finish the journey so we left him at an airport (I have forgotten in which city) and he flew back.  A man named Don and I finished driving the car and truck back to San Diego. As an interesting side note to this  journey; the truck given to us by U-Haul was ancient and decrepit and literally got two miles per gallon, or less. This meant we had to stop about every fifty miles for fuel. In central California on I-5 the exits are sometimes fifty miles apart which gave us some very tense moments during our journey, unsure we would make it to the next station. We documented the fuel guzzling with receipts and U-Haul did reimburse us for the extra fuel. 

HEART DISEASE

During the holiday season of 1981 we went, as a group, to view the Christmas lights on a lane in Chula Vista. On this excursion, after walking just half a block from the van, my father became very winded  so he went back to the van to wait for the rest of us to return. Insisting this was "just a cold" he said he felt like he maybe had "asthma". It turned out to be a faulty heart valve and congestive heart failure. He ignored this for a time but, when it got much worse, he had no choice but to seek medical help. He had avoided visiting the doctor because he lacked health insurance but, once he visited a cardiologist, and was tested, he was  scheduled for an emergency valve replacement surgery and quadruple bypass. He was actually near death on that outing to see the lights. Someone, I do not know who, took up a special offering to cover the surgery costs.

I was not working at this time; since I had been injured on the job; and spent most of my days at the hospital until he was out of the woods. It was not clear whether he would survive the surgery; since it was so extensive; and for about five days two nurses monitored multiple IV lines that kept his heart rhythm stabilized. It was a grueling recovery and there was still a real concern he would not survive.  He did survive and, directly afterward, changed his diet dramatically, lost weight, walked several miles each day and even joined a gym. These new habits eventually dropped away and his life returned to the same hectic schedule he had kept before the surgery. Once again began sneaking out for donuts, pastries and the like multiple times per day. The surgery saved his life, and gave him an extra five years to live, and he died on October 25, 1985 of a sudden heart attack in a Mexican Restaurant in San Diego. I know few details of the incident. It is my understanding he was eating out with David North and his wife when he suddenly complained of weakness. After this, he fell from the booth and was just gone. There were efforts to revive him by paramedics but they failed.  No one ever called me from the ABC to let me know what happened. 

I am convinced part of him was lost during this heart surgery. I have read about this extensively and am also acquainted with a doctor who specializes in the treatment of heart disease. This doctor helped move me beyond some major health problems of my own a few years ago; not heart related;  and I still follow his plan for my heart and health nearly to the letter.  This doctor stated it is well known in the medical community; although not widely publicized; small brain injuries occur during most heart surgeries. This is because of the plaques and fat globules that break free during surgery and strike the brain causing small strokes. These injuries can alter mood and temperament if the damage occurs in the frontal lobe. There were specific instances, after my father's surgery, I believe show this happened.  My dad became much stronger physically, for a while, but there were things about him mentally that had transformed.  He became much more emotional, but not everyone noticed this. I did. One of the last times we spent together; at a restaurant in Alpine California; he broke down sobbing in the middle of the restaurant. This was very unlike him.  He felt he could no longer keep up the pace of the very thing he had created (the ABC) but also felt an obligation "for the people" to keep going. He talked about his death as if it were imminent and this was a good indicator he had become depressed. I didn't understand that at the time. The next time I saw him, after this incident, he was back to the mad dash that had defined his life. He also began to have frequent middle of the night sessions of extreme anxiety and would sometimes not sleep and pace the floor for hours. I discovered this when I spent a few nights at his house after my divorce.  It was also soon after this restaurant encounter I would find myself disowned.  I do not contribute the disowning itself to the changes after the surgery; it had happened too many times, to too many others over the years; but I do blame the vicious manner in which it was accomplished on these changes. At least I hope so. 

RESIDENCE CHANGES

When I arrived in San Diego, the bus had been permanently parked at the San Ysidro RV park and a park model trailer had been purchased and moved in next to the bus giving my father, and Yvonne, plenty of extra space to live.  This allowed my step-siblings; who were now teenagers;  more room and privacy. Both the bus and trailer were parked just ten feet from the Interstate 5 freeway and the roar of traffic, even at night, was deafening. This was an unacceptable place for someone with serious heart disease to live so my father's doctor ordered a move away from the freeway...now! 

The first move would be to a small apartment nearby in Chula Vista. This move to the apartment would be the first time, since 1973, my father had lived in regular housing. After this move David North took over use of the bus and trailer and my father never returned to living there.

The apartment, a small two bedroom, got my father into a quiet environment and it was here he returned from heart surgery. I picked him up at the hospital to bring him home and his first request was to get his hair cut. This we did. It was a rather unusual request because he had very little hair. The barber made a couple of small snips and he was done. I think this made him feel as though he could get back to normal life, and was actually a good moment between us; one of the few. He was still weak and needed help walking and this was another one of those very rare moments we had to just talk and be friends. It was odd for me because my father was never one that needed much help.

I don't recall exactly how long my father lived in the apartment but the move changed his outlook. He seemed to no longer desire life as an itinerant minister and just wanted to settle down. This was quite a change for him.  I remember one time; when I was thirteen, and we had first moved to San Juan Island; we had gone together looking at an old small ferry he had seen an ad for in a "Little Nickel" style paper.  His plan he related to me, on the drive to see it, would be to move a mobile home onto the car deck for instant living space then convert the passenger deck into a floating church. He wanted to then travel from island to island preaching.  The ferry had no engine, was sitting next to the Puget Sound on dry ground tipped sideways, and would have cost a huge amount to bring back to usable shape. There was also the little problem of it needing an engine and a crew to actually run it.  It was a fun idea for a day but he abandoned it as impossible once he actually saw the ferry.

Once my father recovered from surgery, he decided the apartment was too small. He also felt it was senseless to pay rent on an apartment and have two RV spaces as well. For the same cost he could purchase one large home. I was not involved in this search for a home but he eventually found a very large home in a rather nice neighborhood of Chula Vista. It was soon labeled "Casa Grande" because of its enormous size. It had, as I recall, four bedrooms, a huge den / family room and a very large living / dining room. A large kitchen sat in the middle of it all and in back was a huge patio with nicely landscaped yard. This house was sold years later, and they purchased another, even larger home, with an in-ground pool. I was not in the ABC at the time but saw that home when I returned for the funeral.

Not long after the move to Casa Grande, David North and his wife also moved into the Casa Grande and the trailer was then towed to the Alpine RV park in the mountains. The bus was moved into a storage lot and the ABC never used it again. I assume they eventually sold it.

In my next post I will detail the development of the Mexican Ministry and, in the following post, will cover a few of the anomalies it spawned.

NEXT POST