12-Monroe WA

 

By 1973 "the group" had been growing and changing for about four years. The turmoil over tithe, autonomy and power, while still brewing beneath the surface, was all but invisible to newcomers. Newcomers simply accepted the way things were was how it had always been and had no clue about the previous turmoils. Since the newcomers knew no different they were not seeking to go back to “the old way”. My dad now "back burnered" the disputes festering during this period and that helped end most of the arguments pervasive in the King and Snohomish county area. At the Monroe farm where we moved to, the focus changed to preparations for starting a "traveling ministry" instead of simply moving about the Seattle home groups. My dad also began to devote much of his time to writing and produced several booklets; 17 Ways, Righteousness, Peace and Joy, Concerning Baptism; and papers such as the "Dear Jon Letter" shown below.

Dear Jon Letter

(Click page image above for entire text.)

During Spring Break 1973 my dad was leaving the house and invited me to go with him.  On this venture we went to a bank where he met a man from "the group" named Doug. Doug was a Vietnam veteran who had been severely injured during a surgery gone awry years before. Because of the botched surgery he had received a sizable settlement from the VA and, on several occasions, my dad sought funds from him to keep things going. Doug made frequent “special offerings” for  the requested needs and, on this particular day, we met him at his bank to pick up a check for the purchase of an old school bus. It was my dad's intention to use the bus as a traveling home while ministering state to state. The school bus had been  converted to a camper and he felt it was livable. That plan was immediately vetoed by Yvonne after she took one look inside. The bus would have been great for camping, but full time living would definitely have been primitive. My dad set to work gutting the bus  with a plan to rebuild.

After a few days a man in "the group", Jim, visited the farm to let his Irish Setters run in the pastures. While he was there, my dad showed him the bus, discussed his plan and talked about its deficiencies. Jim walked around the bus, examined all of its details, then simply stated with a smile; "I know how to fix that". By the end of that day the two had cut the bottom off the front door, cut a new door hole near the back and fitted a new main door. It then took two months for my dad and Jim to construct a master bedroom area in the back, a kitchen ahead of that, a tiny bath situated in the middle and to the front were two bunks behind the drivers area for my step-siblings Jon and Lavonne. Later, as Jon and LaVonne became older, two “humps” (as shown in the picture above) were added to the top of bus as loft bedrooms.  On the bus a painted sword tip was initially added to symbolize the “sword of the Lord going out into the land.” This was painted over years later but not added back on.

For me, that spring and final semester of high school went fast. That summer, in July, I would turn eighteen and finally be free. I had only two classes remaining to get my high school diploma, so it abbreviated my school days and I had more spare time. I filled this time mending fences and caring for the herd of cows behind our house.   As graduation approached, the pace of life at the farm became busy as my dad and Yvonne made final preparations for moving into the bus. It was a lengthy process deciding what could go into the bus and what needed to be left behind. The remainders were packed, stored or given away. In May we cleaned up the house for moving out but I was spared me the last few weeks of clean up when I contracted chicken pox and nearly missed commencement.

After commencement there was a small party at a restaurant and, the next morning, my dad drove me to my oldest brothers place in Everett, said a quick goodbye as he dropped me off, then left instructions with my brother he was to teach me how to drive and give me a place to stay. Then he was gone. That same day he and Yvonne and step-siblings finished moving the last things into the bus and hit the road for Grants Pass Oregon. I have many times joked that I never left home, it just moved away from me, but in reality that is exactly what happened.

The Monroe farm brought about the end of an era for me, I was no longer privy to the inner workings of my dad's life. The years of hearing about all the behind-the-scenes turmoil ended and life seemed much more peaceful. I was no longer under Yvonne's constant put downs, name calling and domineering. Many complained about Yvonne’s dominant ways but it is much worse to have lived in the same house.  Where previously I was at three or four meetings per week, I now just attended the usual Thursday Foundation and Saturday Communion meeting. 

It felt good to be free but there were issues. My oldest brother had just returned from Vietnam and, after just a few months living in his apartment, it became clear my staying there was not a good idea. My dad and Yvonne counseled me I should move to Grants Pass Oregon and find work there. I used my final paycheck, and a small amount of savings, to fund my way. I stayed in Grants Pass less than a month because I could not find a job. A man in "the group", Harvey, called and told me he had a job for me in Klamath Falls Oregon at the Winema Hotel. He said I could stay with him and his new wife (also an arranged marriage which went disastrously) until I got settled and found my place to live. So, I moved to K-Falls.

My dad, during this time, moved on to Santa Cruz California from Grants Pass in the bus. There he started three meetings in three homes in three cities. He also had a fourth meeting, monthly, in Paradise CA at the home of a woman named Vivian. Vivian would be responsible for re-introducing one of the stranger doctrines into "the group"; which then persisted for several years...even though it was not actually accepted by most. This doctrine alleged that persons of color were not human but were instead "beasts of the field". They were the same as animals and therefore could not find salvation. This doctrine had shown up in Mountlake Terrace briefly but Vivian was voraciously vocal on the subject and my dad bought in big time. She based this doctrine on the scripture in Genesis which reads:

And the LORD God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life: And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel. Genesis 3:14-15

Her take on this scripture was that Satan; the chief "beast of the field"; was a black man, and he had conned "white" Adam and Eve into sinning and... well, it was a very weird teaching but to my, and other peoples, embarrassment dad picked up the ball and ran with it for quite a number of years after that. Vivian had been born and raised in the deep south and was a white supremacist who belonged to a fringe Pentecostal group. How my dad could adopt this teaching was as much beyond me then as it is now.

My dad changed his mind on this subject when a black man named Aubrey; a friend of someone in "the group"; came and asked to be baptized. He held a meeting of a few of the men to determine if this was even possible.  I was at that meeting and the overwhelming consensus was that Aubrey was a man so it was possible. This caused a reversal in his thinking and he baptized Aubrey.

I had lived in K-Falls for about six months when my dad called to tell me that God wanted me to move to Santa Cruz CA to help with his new work. Harvey, and his wife Kathy, were also told that "since God was not blessing K-Falls" they should also move to Santa Cruz. They appointed Harvey as an elder and I moved to Santa Cruz as instructed, pulling the travel trailer I was living in. My dad promised if I moved it to the park where they were staying in the bus he would help me get settled and on my feet financially but after several months a major problem developed in the groups, in all three cities at once, which ended all three meetings overnight.  I never learned of the exact details; but within a week my dad left California completely. He drove the bus back up to the Seattle area and parked it at Apex Airpark. 

Apex airpark was a private airstrip / housing community in Silverdale WA owned by a woman named Roberta Walker.  Roberta had opened her home, and property, to "the group" and held meetings in her home. I remained in Santa Cruz but, a short time later, Harvey and his wife also moved away leaving me alone there, with little money, working part time as a dishwasher and unable to buy food. One of my neighbors in the RV park, and the assistant manager of the restaurant where I worked, helped me out with food while I applied for food stamps but it became clear I could not stay in Santa Cruz. I called my dad to see what I should do. Move to Silverdale, he counseled, but more on that in a later post.

In my next post I will cover the origins of a major doctrine of control used by the ABC and brings about the doctrine of "body council".

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11-Lake Forest Park

In 1972 a man named Ray offered us the use of his home in Lake Forest Park. He and his family had been in "the group" for a short time and, in his effort to “help the cause”, allowed us to live in his home rent free.  Having moved eighteen times in less than seventeen years I was not thrilled with having to move again. It would mean yet another change of schools and, since I was now in high school, I did not want to change schools yet again. I spoke with the school and they allowed me a waiver to cross district boundaries. I was now able to continue at the same school but had to walk the eight miles round trip each day from Lake Forest Park to the school and back. I actually enjoyed the walk, just an hour each way, and became somewhat fit in the process. I still  continue to walk long distances on a regular basis.

Three years had gone by since the Wilcrest Apartment days. "The group" had grown in numbers substantially, the grumblings were still present but were now being effectively kept beneath the surface and most new members were not even aware there was trouble brewing. They saw only new friendships and pasted smiles.  

The grumblings continued to focus on the use of tithe money and the autonomy of the meetings. These were the same issues that had plagued “the group” since the very first split and most speaking up felt they were not being heard. This created great agitation beneath the surface, waiting for an outlet, and that outlet would come later.

Meeting homes changed over the years and now, in 1972, there were regularly scheduled home meetings in Snohomish WA, West Seattle, Lynnwood WA, Everett WA, Grants Pass OR, and a few other homes I may have forgotten. There were a few individuals baptized into the ABC who did not live close to an existing home meeting so my father would visit them occasionally, hold small communion or foundation meetings in their homes, with just their families, then travel back home the same night. He adopted the title of “Circuit Rider” since we seemed to be always on the road.

The tithe remained centralized and all home meetings were under the direction of my father, the money now paid directly to him and my stepmother Yvonne. My step-mother remained in charge of the books and this meant none of the tithe was given back to each home group to decide how it was spent. Nor were they ever given any sort of accounting of the income or expenditures. This would eventually culminate in a major split in the group, decimating some of the home groups north of Seattle. These were then reformed into the homes of others.

Having all the tithe directed to my father meant he now had enough money to pass his business, "Medic Repair", on to a man named Earl. This was given to this man to win his support in the tithe war and his home, in Snohomish WA, became a site of meetings.  It was essentially Earl's business now so my father was free to focus his time on writing books, making tapes and traveling in a circuit Thursdays and Saturdays to different home meetings in two states. For me, this meant I heard each of his teachings at least half a dozen times as we traveled from home to home. 

Within a few weeks after moving to Lake Forest Park my stepmother, Yvonne; a woman who ruled all children with an iron fist; determined I was a rebellious teen and needed to  be put "on strict discipline".  There was no explanation given on what I did to earn this title of being "rebellious”. I assume being seventeen I perhaps sought some autonomy from the family, but that is only my best guess. No examples of my "rebellion" were given to me and I still wonder to this day what brought about such a fierce discipline.

The discipline chosen for my "teen rebellion" was that I was to be confined to my bedroom my entire Junior year in high school, unless I was at a church meeting or in school. During this confinement I was to do my homework first. Any remaining time was to be spent reading the Bible and doing Greek Word Studies from John  Stegenga’s book.  This included weekends too. To prove I had been studying the Bible, and not just sitting in my room,  I had to write a weekly report on what I had learned from these Greek word studies.  Each Friday night I was made to sit with Yvonne, read her my report, then listen to her harsh criticism and critique.  She would be ultra-demeaning and name calling in these sessions. I was regularly called baby, stupid, idiot and more by her. They were tortuous sessions. It was her opinion against mine. There was not much give and take.  The upside was I became superb at doing research and used this to my advantage later, allowing me to get out of the final months of that "discipline". 

During this period my father was in the middle of developing a new teaching on Creation, including  information on the “Pre-Adamic world” and  how dinosaurs fit into the scheme of earth history.  I had signed up for several extra-curricular activities in high school, one of them working as an aide in the teachers center creating  materials for the school staff; the other in the library audio-visual department operating the projectors and organizing films. This  allowed me access to school facilities after hours and so I struck a deal with my father that I would stay behind at school each day, do research for him for his two new teachings, and type up excerpts from books and articles related to the science of creation. I also made slides and other handouts for him. He went along with the deal which freed from most of the remaining confinement in my room and ended those hellish Yvonne sessions. I considered it a small victory since it got me away from the house and into a little more "normalcy". Under this arrangement, I  would return home in time for dinner and was still made to go to my room, do my homework and eat dinner apart from the rest of the family.  It wasn't perfect, but not as bad as the full time room confinement, report writing and hellish sessions with Yvonne.  I still have some of those reports I was made to write.

Being  considered "rebellious" is a label I have lived with on and off  for many many years. Eventually I learned to live with it but, I suppose, since I am writing this history, I am once again considered a rebel. I was "brought before the elders" more times than I can possibly even list here. Essentially for things that would normally have been just parental guidance, or fatherly instruction to a teen or young adult. It was humiliating being brought before the elders for very minor offenses all the time. I was being publicly defamed before the whole church quite often. I acquired some offensive nicknames such as "Scotty Tissue", the connotation being one who could be given crap then thrown away because this happened to me frequently. In  my senior year I began to have anxiety attacks from these stresses. This did not concern my father or stepmother Yvonne in any way and to them this was just more proof I was “in sin” or  “rebellious”.  

This label of "rebellious" has been attached to many people who were also "disciplined" and humiliated before all. The discipline of others included being commanded not to speak with anyone else, both in and out of the meetings, or being forced to sit in the back of the room at all times. Some were forbidden to take communion or even eat with others at the meeting or elsewhere. It was intentionally humiliating treatment and this manner of  "discipline" continues in the ABC. It is wrong.

The Lake Forest Park days lasted not quite a year and a half, ending halfway through my senior year in high school.  It was time to move, again, but this time there would be no walking to school since we were moving twenty miles north to a large farm in Monroe WA.  This move allowed my father room for the purchase of a large bus which he converted into a "mobile ministering machine" and would eventually bring the ABC to other states and into Mexico. In my next post, after a short bit about general history, I will continue my time progression by covering this Monroe WA era.

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10-The Big Brown House

The stench at the "sewer house" was unbearable and something had to be done so my father called a city inspector. Tests showed the property would not perk, the septic tank issue was not fixable and without connection to the city sewer system the home was to be condemned. These tract homes had been built without proper permits when Mountlake Terrace was newly forming and no one at the city had been paying attention. Quite a number of homes were affected so the city began work on a plan to rescue the entire neighborhood, rather than condemn it completely. But that fix would take years so, in the meantime, the home was uninhabitable. We had to move.

My father located a  huge four bedroom rental home in Mountlake Terrace, not far from the "sewer house". Because of its size and color it would become known as "the big brown house". This was the site of major changes for both our family and "the group".  It was at this house my brother graduated high school, left home then soon married. (The ABC believes in arranged marriages and this was an arranged marriage.) My father quit his job, started a successful business called "Medic Repair" and this gave him a more flexible schedule.  Many new people would be introduced to the group; some young, some old, and more of the previous members would leave. But the numbers continued to grow and reached the point that even the large living room could not handle the crowd. The meetings were split once again.

The previous attempt at breaking up "the group" into three smaller meetings caused much unrest. Those original squabbles once again rose to the surface, the central point being a huge disagreement over who should fellowship at who's house. One individual wanted "district lines" drawn and in his plan if you lived in such-and-such district you would fellowship at so and so's house. Most just wanted the freedom to fellowship wherever, and with whoever, they wished, whenever they wanted.  To end the squabbling, it was decided; by whom I do not know, that for a short period the "Foundation Meetings", on Thursdays, would continue in three separate homes but the "Communion Meetings", on Saturdays, intended only for those who had been baptized in the ABC, would be combined back into one meeting in our large living room at the "big brown house".  This worked fine, at first, and the return to a single Saturday "Communion Meeting" eased some of the tensions, but it was clear our living room, even though large, would never handle the ever-increasing crowd. A return to three separate Saturday meetings was inevitable but this time it would be at different homes than  before to avoid any more "trouble".

It was now 1971. This would be the year of the first "All-Church Gathering". This gathering was not officially called the "all-church" the first year, and was nothing more than a picnic in a large park in Snohomish County Washington. This single event would bring about the custom of having all of the home meetings everywhere gather once each year in a central rented facility. Originally open to all persons the first two years, it was decided "outsiders" would be prohibited from attending future "all-church gathering" so it could be classified as a "communion meeting". 

At the big brown house, my father, now self-employed and able to schedule his own work, began making regular trips to Grants Pass Oregon to hold small meetings with Gilbert Larson (the current apostle of the ABC) and his close friend Pat, who drove over from Klamath Falls. Gilbert Larson would marry a woman named CaraLee  in Grants Pass and most members of her family would begin to attend the meetings, some becoming elders in "the group".  They then brought to the meetings other acquaintances and, before long, Grants Pass had regularly scheduled weekly meetings on both Thursday and Saturday. Many years later, after disagreements over autonomy and money, every single person who lived in Grants Pass either left "the group", left town, or found themselves forced out through ex-communication. I will discuss that in detail in a later post. As a result, there are no longer any persons in Grants Pass directly associated with the ABC and those meetings ended decades ago.

This pattern of growth, then sudden annihilation, has played itself out many many times in the history of the ABC and directly results from  overbearing, legalistic, authoritarian leadership tactics that are devoid of mercy, compassion and love.  The doctrinal philosophies of the ABC inevitably lead to shunning and ex-communication of members over minor disagreements. Most times it results in not just one person but instead large swaths of people finding themselves accused of some "crime" against God (as I have been many times). A frenzy of furious spiritual and emotional backstabbing would  follow the browbeating and thumb squashing by the leaders. This tactic destroys a person completely and has left many broken people behind to wonder what happened to their life and their joy. These spiritual "stabbings" and "beatings" do not spare family members. The justification given for this practice  is the scripture that reads:

Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law. And a man's foes shall be they of his own household. He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. Matthew 10:34-37

But if we are to count the bible as a guidebook Jesus also said:

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28-30

Additionally, He warned us we should not be like those that lay heavy burdens on others,

[The scribes and the Pharisees]...bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers. But all their works they do for to be seen of men: they make broad their phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of their garments...Matthew 23:4-5

I have watched individuals and whole families destroyed by the leadership and doctrines of the ABC. The ABC praises the making of broad phylacteries filled with derivations of Greek and Hebrew words and tenses and also feel they have achieved a higher plane of perfection than all others. It is an egotistical view. It is this view that allows the justification to suddenly, and viciously without warning, turn on others as prey.  I am just as guilty over the years of having just gone along but I woke up and saw my error.

There are two lions mentioned in the scriptures. The Lion of Judah, for which it is safe for even the smallest lamb to lie in peace without fear of torment, and there is the devil, who the bible states walks around like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. I have seen souls crushed and devoured by the false "disciplines" of the ABC. There came a day when I asked myself the question. Which lion do we/they actually represent? The lion of Judah, or the lion who seeks to devour? For me, the evidence spoke for itself. It is unfortunate it took being nearly “devoured” by falsehoods before I saw the ABC for what it really is. A vicious cult that has deceived many.
 
In the next post, our family moves from the "big brown house" to Lake Forest Park. My father, in exchange for a truce over the tithe squabble, gives his Medic Repair business to Earl then begins full-time ministry as the recognized "apostle" of "the group".

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