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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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