A testimony about Discovery Academy

This story was originally written on the old CAFETY website. This website crashed and was reconstructed but lost a lot of testimones. The message board called the Fornits Home for Wayward Webfora managed to save some of testimonies. Here is one of them:

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I was close to finishing the freshman year of highschool when my aunt and uncle sent me to Discovery Academy. I can understand some of the reasons they had. I was experimenting with marijuana and had tried LSD. I was starting to act out. I was into grunge and punk and rock, ( I had long dyed hair, dressed like a freak - way cooler than I dress now) Typical adolecent behavior. I figured that I was doing pretty good for a kid that had spent his first 12 years of life living in the fostercare system. I was on the varcity soccer and baseball team. I had reasonable good grades. I know that I was starting to withdraw from my peers.

Well, I can understand that my parents overreaction to my normal behavior is a typical one. My folks had hired an educational consultant , Miriam Boudean ( bay area , california ) and she had referred me to the private highschool I was attending and she definalty referred me to Discovery Academy when my folks were "trying to save my life". I was fortunate that I wasnt kidnapped and taken to discovery that way. I have heard the stories. I am fortunate that I didnt have to goto any of the wilderness hiking hippy bullshit programs. I flew there on my own accord thinking that this was a boarding school. I thought that I would be gone 3-4 months. Little did I know that there is a year minimum of enrollment. I was there for 2 1/2.

Immediatly on reaching the place I remember being in the parking lot and all of a sudden a huge mutha sucka comes running up and acting very aggressive with a serious hyped up look in his eyes. He wouldnt stay more that 2 feet from me. Well we went in the place and Terry started shmoozin the folks and crap and they took all my stuff to be "approved". Half my friggin clothes and almost all my music, books were NOT approved. When I went to discovery they hadnt switched to uniforms yet. I was still there when they were in the early stages of picking the uniforms. I swear to god that Carol Thorne was like a crazed old child playing with her dolls in her big dollhouse. Often times the new students are put into Unit 1 ( solitary supervised confinement ) Parents are billed ridiculous amounts for this "service". I guess since I thought I was actually in a boarding school they decided to let me into the general population. My second day there they told me that I could go get my hair cut off or they could hold me down and shave my head. Having already spoken to some of the other students I realized that I was )#(%&ed and went the route of the hair cut. Discovery has a punishment system called demerits. One demerit is 25 minutes of standing inches away from a wall, hands at your sides, no talking - deviate from those rules and you will be restarted. I have stood thousands. I have stood till my ankles and knees were ridiculously swollen. I have been restrained, i have been shot up with thorazine. I have been incorrectly diagnosed. My therapist was Alan Thorne. This worm of a man was the owners son. Dr Gene Thorne started this school. He is a evil, self important, pug of a man. And very, very rich.

I have taken the time to read everyones profiles and I empathise with the horrors that you all have had to endure. I feel especially bad for the individuals that had to deal with the jamacian school, paradise cove. I can only imagine the helplessness that you must have felt in the face of not only being trapped out of the country, but also being abused so severly and being coerced to commits acts of abuse.

I might go into detail at a later point some of my experiences that I have gone through while attending Discovery Academy. I cant beleive that the Discovery Academy Forum is down. What a croc. I think I finnaly convinced my aunt and uncle that Discovery was doing more harm than good, and for my senior year of high school I was sent to John Tylers boys ranch. This was a group home facility set in the suburbs of spokane, washinton.

I can say that this place was a huge improvement. John has a true heart and really cares about youth and young adults. There were a few times that I was ready to kill one of the staff there in particular, but for the most part I endured my increase in freedom. One of the things that really messed with me was that I was back in public school. After the pisspoor education system of Discovery I was hard pressed to catch up the first few months. Discovery takes dated text books and chops them up by chapter. They call these "Concepts". You then take a test on the chapter. You are not allowed to test below a B. This is how they maintain thier bullshit excellent GPA of the school. Not only was there a weirdness of being able to react to kids living so called normal lives and not knowing what you are going through but I felt a little socially retarded. My previous contact with girls for the last 2.5 years had been a little supervised coed. Well... there was that one time that involved some serious mission impossible stuff but thats another story. Now Im a senior in high school that cant see anyone outside of school. LAME I had girls wanting to go to the prom with me. Cant do that now. I wanted to get a job so I could have some experience before I moved "home", knowing I was going to be on my own. no go. I know that someone else had mentioned that they felt like they had been robbed of thier adolescence. I feel like I never was a kid.

I have been independant with almost no help from my aunt and uncle. They did help me when they wanted me to goto school. I didnt think I was ready yet. I dropped out after 2.5 years. I have been through substance abuse issues and severe depression since I have been 18 now and have not sought any sort of professional help because of my negative experiences. I was able to kick my meth habit on my own.

At this point of the game I am a 26 year old young adult professional with a great job and a wonderful group of friends. I work as a Youth Support Coordinator for the System of Care initiatives. I now get to tap on to that life experience and hopefully make a difference in someones life. I work as a advocate for youth and Young Adults that have SED or Mental Health diagnose(s). I ran across this site not long ago and was very encouraged to see that there are being steps taken to regulate these child prisons.

I will try to add more to this site in time. Sources:

• Discovery Ranch (The original testimony on the Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora)
• Factsheet about the facility (Fornits Wiki)
• The new website for the Community Alliance for the Ethical Treatment of Youth (CAFETY)

Heather Harding at CEDU (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Heather Harding, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

My name is Heather Harding and I give full permission to use my statement.

Cedu Survivor June 1989- Dec 1991

I attended CEDU school in Running Springs, California from June 26, 1989 until December 7, 1991. I was 14 years old when I arrived and graduated the program 3 days after my 17th birthday.

On the morning of June 26, 1989 I was abruptly awoken by a bounty hunter standing over my bed and telling me to get moving. He was recommended by the school and/or the educational consultant that handled my case. I arrived to the campus, was toured, and then taken to the administration building to say goodbye to my father and supposedly sign away my rights to tell anyone outside what happened inside. Legal action was threatened regularly if ANY information was divulged to the outside or people inside that had not gone through the experience yet. I was too young to know that this was illegal.

The Program:

The program consisted of seven 24 hour emotional growth based "propheets", one 3 day workshop, one 6 day workshop, three wilderness trips (a 3 day, 5 day and 14 day trip), 30-36 hours of physical labor (work crews) per week and 12 hours of "group" therapy (raps) per week.
The basic layout went as follows: (meals excluded for simplicity)

• Monday Wednesday, Friday: You would have 4 hours of work crews in the morning and a 4 hour rap in the afternoon.
• Tuesday, Thursday: You would have work crews for 4 hours in the morning and 4 hours in the afternoon.
• Saturday: Saturday work crews where the entire campus would be cleaned top to bottom for 4-6 hours
• Sunday: 2-4 hours of cleaning with free time in the afternoon

Work crews changed every 6 months. The first six months you would chop wood with a cross cut saw and sledge and wedge. The second six months you would work on the farm taking care of the animals. The third six months you would maintain and add to an upper and lower ropes course. The last year of the program you would do miscellaneous chores. This was supposed to be the major time for classwork, yet I only attended one class during that entire time which was about an hour long and we talked about PeeWee Herman getting caught in an adult theatre.

Every evening after dinner there was "free time" called floor time where people would share personal stories and "smoosh". If you had been in trouble you would also fulfill your punishment at this time called dinner dishes.

Dinner Dishes: You are assigned an area to clean by an upper school student after dinner (pot and pans, upper level, lower lever, etc.) Bans were enforced where you could not acknowledge any other person, could not smile, be touched, talk, sing and could only be speak if spoken to by an approved peer or staff. The detail usually lasted 1-2 hours with Deep meaningful conversations or personal beration for whatever you did to get into trouble. This was the lightest punishment anyone would receive, usually for leaving your snow boots in the closet overnight or something similar. It was also mandatory during harsher punishments like a Table or Full Time.

Table and Full Times: This was a harsher punishment for breaking an agreement on accident or deliberately. It consisted of your regular rap cycle Monday, Wednesday and Friday. During your regular work crew times you would be doing "work assignments" or "work details". These consisted of hard labor that usually had no real purpose. Many people would work at digging a hole that is 6 feet deep just to fill it back up. The point is to see how "You dig holes in your life" or "run yourself into the ground". During any other free time you were restricted to sit at a table in the dining room with a hard wooden bench and would have to work on writing assignments which were usually harsh and defamatory. You were on a ban from the entire school except approved upper school students and faculty. You were not allowed to be touched, smile, sing, laugh and could only speak when spoken to. You were escorted everywhere by the upper school student who was running your table. Tables could last several weeks. Full Times were longer tables that could last between 1 and 3 months. People on tables were an easy target in raps and usually suffered extreme defamation and verbal abuse at the hands of their peers and faculty. If you tried to run away from the school a Full Time was an absolute once the police or bounty hunter picked you up and brought you back. If you refused and continued to not participate the school would recommend a 21 day.

21 day: Many kids were taken from the school and put on a 21 day in an attempt to get them to cooperate. It is a harsh wilderness experience ran by an affiliated program like Ascent or Outward Bounds. I did not experience one so I will not make a personal comment, but if you did not succeed at the 21 day and come back the CEDU, Provo Canyon in Utah was usually suggested by the school to your parents. I knew many many kids that went on 21 days, one in particular that did 3 consecutive 21 days... (a 63 day)

Propheets: There were seven 24 hour propheets based off of chapters in Kahlil Gibrans book "The Prophet" They propheets get their name because we were "learning to put feet under the prophet" Supposedly learning "tools" that would later help us succeed in life.

Here is list of the propheets in order through the program

• The Truth
• The Childrens
• The Brothers
• The Dreams
• The I want to live
• The Values
• The Imagine

The basic outline of propheets were the same during the 24 hour period, but the intensity and harshness increased with each one. Basic outline: Your "peer group" enters a secluded building away from the rest of the school at around 5pm. All the windows are covered so you never know what time it is. The kids would sit in a semi-circle of hard chairs with one of more faculty at the front in plush arm chairs. Dirt lists are written and disclosure circles start. A few emotional growth based exercises and bio-energetic exercises are done with the attempt to weaken you. These exercises are usually harsh in nature and the faculty will take personal experiences from you and berate you with them. (example: If you were molested by an uncle... they would yell something around the lines "Yeah, you deserved it didnt' you..... You asked for it because you are a whore". Most were physical and emotionally humiliating. A certain song designed for each propheet would be played repeatedly for hours on end. Around 2 or 3am, a rap is started. You would only be allowed to wear a short sleeve shirt, sweatpants and socks. The room was kept at around 50 degrees all night and faculty would come up behind you and slap their hands really loud if you were to fall asleep and make you stand behind your chair. This rap would end around 6 or 7 am where you would have some meaningless uplifting exercise, eat a small breakfast and take a nap for 1 hour or so. The rest of the propheet (about 6 hours or so) was designed to "build you back up". The next day exercises were usually soft in nature. Unfortunately, the emotional trauma, physical exhaustion, and malnourishment would defeat any feel good moment. You would exit the propheet around 5pm the next day and re-introduce yourself to the school and share your newfound personal wisdom.

The Workshops were similar with harsher exercises and lasted 3 days or 6 days. These experiences were pinnacles in the program. You would get your next set of issues to deal with in each propheet and expand on prior propheets.

In my 3 day workshop they made me lay on the ground, bite on a towel while keeping my head on the ground and pull up as hard as I can while they played the rocky theme song several times. My meniscus disc in my jaw joint was displaced anteriorly and posteriorly. They would not let me see a doctor for several months until my parents demanded it. Scar tissue developed on the joint making it difficult to do the surgery and the doctor hit a main nerve and half of my face was paralyzed for almost 3 months. During this time the school only allowed me 2 eye drops per day.

The belief was that I really didn't have a physical injury. They told me to "take care of my feelings" and everything would be ok. My physical wellness was neglected for almost 5-6 months. I have had 2 other surgeries for this injury after leaving CEDU.

This is only the tip of the iceberg that was CEDU school. This is only an outline of a few key ingredients. Day to day you were berated and I personally lived in fear of doing anything because any faculty at any time could make it "out of agreement". An example: I used to yelled at for having curly hair (which I was born with!?!?!) One faculty decided that if my hair was curly I was "off"... if I was "off" I had done something out of agreement. I would be a sitting duck in raps for all the school to attack. Punishments were typically ludacris and irrational. I was put on a table just before I graduated only because I had not been on a table yet. The staff also liked to put you in lose lose situations that would end in work details or worse.

17 years have passed since I graduated from this program. I left with no high school education and started college at an 8th grade level. I did receive my high school diploma somehow from CEDU which boggles my mind. I was later told that the state had approved the program and that I got math units for chopping wood and english credits for floor time. This is ludacris! My parents paid an extremely expensive tuition for me to be physically and emotionally abused while doing free labor. And the worst part, to this day they don't know what I actually went through while I was there. I wasn't allowed to tell them while I was there and now, they just don't want to hear it. I am just coming to terms with what happened at CEDU.

Again, My name is Heather Harding and I give full permission to use my statement.

CEDU war a large organization and very much founded the term "Therapeutic Boarding School". The first CEDU school was opened around 1968 and all the school closed in 2005 due to some lawsuits.

References:
Datasheet about the boarding schools from the Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on Youthrights

Angela Guest-Jones at Hephzibah House (From:youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Angela Guest-Jones, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

My name is Angela Guest-Jones. The following statements are true and based on my own personal experiences.

I was a student at Hephzibah House in Winona Lake Indiana from January 6, 1989 until December 20, 1989.

I am divorced but kept my ex- husband’s last name since I have had it since I was 19 years old, and for the sake of my children.

Where do I start? My parents were saved and started going to church when I was 6 years old. Not long after going to the church my brother and I started going to the private school. I loved that church and school. My family was happy and everything seemed great. When I was 14 there was a church split and my dads friend talked him into going to Metro Baptist. Of course we started the school there. I had twin sisters that were born when I was 13, so they were over a year old when we left our old church. Practically overnight I was no longer allowed to wear pants, hangout with some of my friends, especially guy friends, no longer listen to any music other than the church music and so on. My family argued a lot more and it seemed to be falling apart. You cant tell a 14 year old after all these years that all these things are bad and expect then not to rebel when their family was happier before we got into a cult like Baptist Church. I now go to a Baptist church and they preach these things but they do not force them on you. These are convictions and a person has to have their own convictions. My parents realize a lot of things should have been done differently and it has proven to be better for my sisters, Thank God. I would never want them to have to go through the things that I did.

I was an all A and B student and cleaned my parents house, did laundry, cared for my sisters etc…I was rebellious in my attitude and was a little boy crazy and liked rock music; the typical teenager type of behavior. In no way did I think I deserved or needed to go to a school like HH. My parents now admit they were talked into it and should not have abandoned me and pushed me off on someone else and the fact that things changed so drastically so fast could have been the cause of some of my rebellion.

I remember the day I went to HH very clearly. I was supposed to be going to a volleyball tournament at school and my dad and his friend from church said they were taking me to school that day because my dad needed the car. I used to drive my brother and I to school. I didn’t see my mom that morning and she usually was up. Didn’t think twice about it. When my dad passed the school I was asking why. That’s when he told me that he was taking me to HH. It was a long drive. My mom packed food and a letter that she didn’t want to do this. I didn’t know till I got home that my mom never signed the papers and they took me ahead of a lot of girls because I was 17. I don’t know if that was legal for them to take me with only one parent’s signature. To my understanding you sign for HH to have legal guardianship of your child while they are in HH. So how was it legal for them to take me without my mother’s signature???? I tried to run several times but they weren’t going to let it happen. We stopped at some Dr’s office and I was told I was getting a pelvic exam. I refused it and to my memory they still signed my release papers. That was the Doctor that sees the HH girls.


When I got there Ron Williams and his wife were out of town. I was talked to by Pastor Don, Ron Williams son. I remember Heather taking me into a shower and I had to strip in front of her while they took all my jewelry and everything else that I could not have. I was in this strange place and was naked in front of a stranger. I felt like I was in a Nazi prison camp or something. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my dad because I was begging him not to leave me there. I remember seeing my dad crying. I was not told of any rules as far as I can remember, unless I just blocked it out. I don’t remember a lot of things there and didn’t until I recently read some of the other girls stories. I think I blocked it out but deep in my mind I know these things are the cause of some problems in my life today.


I was taken downstairs into the dungeon that is what I call it. I was told to sit at the first table. I saw Katrina and said hi because I did not know that I wasn’t allowed to talk to her. I had to label all of my things and read this big book and then I finally started to get it. I wasn’t going to be allowed to talk to or look at any of the other girls and so many more rules that I cannot even remember. I was so depressed and didn’t eat much at all. I was given my food back twice when I first got there and then started eating so I wouldn’t have to eat food that was refrigerated over and over until I ate it. I’m sure eventually if I didn’t eat it, I would have gotten a beating. Thank goodness I caught on to some things quickly. I think I saved myself many beatings because of this. I only ate ¼ portions though and they made me write that on my menu. We had to write what we ate and our BM’s were recorded. I remember not having a period there for over 3 months, at least and then I bled so heavily I think it may have been a miscarriage. I was not there because I was lazy and did not have a hard time getting the chores done right. I was a neat freak, always have and always will be. I think that they wanted us to fail though because I would do my best and when we swept the bedroom they would take paper and wave it under the bed, if one little piece of dust flew up, you failed and would not eat. I don’t remember protein drinks either. I only remember chicken broth. I think they were actually ticked that I caught on and just found reasons to fail me. I learned their ways pretty quick and got on the garden crew though.


I remember that we had to write home every week and if they didn’t like what we said we got our letter back and was told to rewrite it. All of my mail coming in was blacked out if they didn’t want me to see what was said. I couldn’t tell my parents what was going on there, they made sure of it. Our 10-minute monthly phone calls were monitored and we would be in big trouble if we tried to say anything “wrong”. One of the workers was sitting right next to us on another line listening. If they weren’t doing anything wrong then why was everything ‘hidden’ from our parents and why weren’t we able to say what was going on or be alone with our parents on our visits. They said it was because we would make our parents feel sorry for us to go home. I know for a fact it was to hide what they were doing. They knew that no parent in their right mind would think any of this was right.


I don’t know how long it was before my first visit, but I do remember that I was not feeling well and my front tooth was in severe pain and a sharp pain shot up every time I ate or anything jarred it. I told them about it but they said nothing. My face was swollen by time my parents came to see me and my eyes were a little black. I had an abscess. I wrote a note to give to my parents and hid it in my bra. I decided not to give it to them though, because I was thinking that if they sent me here they must agree with them and if they gave the letter to the staff, I would get a beating. I flushed it down the toilet after they left. I had somehow managed to avoid getting a beating up to that point. I remember acting like everything was so great and Miss Saylor was saying I was so sweet and all that…. My parents got them to take me to the dentist though. I was so sick I couldn’t even think about running when we went to the dentist, even though they make us lay down in the van so we wont see where we are and have enough people to keep us under control. I had to lie up in the dark closet in the school on a mattress and they drilled a hole in my tooth so the infection that caused my face to swell up could drain out. I ate broth for 2 weeks at least. I was thin when I got there and by that point I was anorexic looking.

I was always ahead in school and they thought that I would not be able to get done by the time I was 18 but I was used to the system they had there-it was what we had in my first Christian school. I worked hard and even did college prep because I was determined to get out of there in December when I was 18 and with a diploma.

I remember some good days and they were only because of Aaron. He used to take me and one other girl sometimes to help him and Daniel out. We would do all sorts of things, like fixing the buildings, yard work, and gutting deer. They would come play volleyball and stuff with us as well. I think that this is why I got my beating one day. I was doing what I was told, doing my chores, my schoolwork, memorizing my scripture, and really had no reason for the beating. The Williams were out of town of course, and Miss Emory and Miss Saylor took me up there. When I asked why I was getting the “spanking”, Miss Emory said, “Oh, just the general attitude”. I was told to lay on the floor and they put the chairs over my head and feet and then Heather I believe is the one who was hitting me. I didn’t cry so I got more. I didn’t count but I know that I was in pain and by this time I was very thin so that made it worse. I have always been tough and have a pretty high pain tolerance. I tried to go to the bathroom to see my bruises but Emory wouldn’t let me. I still have back problems to this day and sciatica from my low back being hurt there. I think it was from the backbreaking work that we did as well.

I also remember that we had to memorize chapters of scripture at a time. We only were allowed about 3 errors I believe. If we made more than 3 errors we would fail. I cannot remember what happened. I think we had sentences to write and demerits or something. We had chores and schoolwork as well, so writing sentences just made it harder to get our other responsibilities done. I felt so sorry for the girls that had a hard time memorizing! I had to write sentences more than once for demerits. They would give us demerits for allsorts of things. 25 demerits if you layed your brush on the table and we sat at those tables for meals and everything else.
I also remember the cleaning out the freezers and storage rooms. There were a lot of donated fruits and vegetables and breads etc…we never saw any of that. We got the second rate handouts or whatever the Williams family did not want. Our daily lunch was ‘soup’. Our soup consisted of leftovers and unlabeled and dented cans of vegetables or whatever else they had to dump in there. I swear some of the cans we put in there looked and smelled like dog food. We ate a lot of freezer burnt foods as well.

How is it that there were so many donations to the girls of food and other items but we never got to have any of it. The Williams are the ones living high off of the donations of money and food and what our parents paid to put us in there. They abused the charity that was meant for the girls in the home.

I also remember that we had to take ‘vitamins’ everyday. A huge handful of them. We used to get a ‘B’ reaction from the niacin. Our faces would get really red and hot. I also believe, after listening to stories recently from other students there, that we were given some type of pill to stop our periods while we were there. I read several statements of how some girls did not have periods the whole time they were there. My parents stopped sending money for the “vitamins’ and shortly after I stopped taking them, I started my extremely heavy period. I have had menstrual problems ever since I left that place. I was in the hospital twice shortly after leaving there and had bleeding problems. I had to have a surgery called a cone biopsy when I was 20 years old. I had problems from then on and had a very hard time trying to get pregnant. I even went to my pastor and was anointed with oil. I had my 2 beautiful daughters not long after that. They are 2 years apart. I continued to have problems off and on and when I was 32, I had a hysterectomy. I had endometriosis very bad. It had cause severe bleeding almost all the time and it had grown outside of my uterus and attached to my ovaries and appendix. I feel better now that I had the hysterectomy but because I was so young when I get the surgery, I have other problems and risks to deal with.

I remember the day before my birthday. I was planning on how I was going to tell them I was leaving and they had no more rights over me since I was 18. I was looking at the chore list that day as well and noticed that I wasn’t on it. I was so scared that I was being taken off the garden crew. I found out soon enough that my parents were there to get me on December 21, 1989. I was taken out when the girls were doing choir rehearsal or something, so I never got to say goodbye. The first thing I did when I got in the car was grab a bottle of pepsi that they had thereJ and then I started crying. My parents told me that they were trying to get me out before that because they could tell something wasn’t right when they came to visit me. When I told them about the note they said they would have taken me then. My mom said my dad fasted a lot when I first got there. He gave up sweets for a while when I was there because he loves sweets and was so sad when he saw my menu. I was there from January 6, 1989 till December 20, 1989. I cannot imagine having to stay as long as the other girls did. I have enough problems from the short time I was there.

There are so many crazy and weird things that went on there and can be read on the blogs and stories on the website. I remember the 3 minute showers and if they were so obsessed with how dirty we were why would they do that. I remember how we were never praised for what we did right, only what we did wrong. I still have problems with negativity today. I am 36 years old. I do have 2 wonderful girls and they are the most precious things in the world to me. They know I love them and tell them everyday. They are strong and smart and have turned out well despite going through a difficult time when I divorced my ex. I have problems with relationships and know what I want, but always end up picking the bad guy and don’t really know why. I am considering going to counseling when I get out of nursing school, because I want to meet the right man and fall in love. I guess I know that I need it but just think I can handle it on my own. I still go to church on Sunday morning and believe in God, but I did before I went there. I hated church for a while because of what I saw there. I thought how could these people say they are Christians and do what they do to these girls. I don’t see anywhere in the Bible where God says to humiliate and bring down and beat a child. He wants us to be loved and nurtured and spanked properly as a child. My pastor says spanking beyond 5 or 6 years old is pointless. If you don’t have control by then you have to use other methods like taking things away and stuff like that. Beating a teenager only brings more rebellion and hatred and pushes them away from God.

I know that all the things I read are true. I was there. I lived it and have to live with the after effects everyday of my life. I know that the Williams are Christians believe in salvation and God but I don’t feel like they are helping girls at all. They are hurting them emotionally and physically for the rest of their lives. I could go on and on and I know this is a long story but it doesn’t even begin to touch all of the things that happened while I was there. I only pray that this website and these stories can make a difference and that no girl has to go through what we girls at HH did. If even one girl is spared from going to HH because of our efforts to close the place down, it is well worth it.

This is my story of my stay at Hephzibah House.
Angela L. Jones

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Andrew Hill at Yellow Stone Boys and Girls Ranch (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Brendan McMahon, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

At age 17, sent to Yellow Stone Boys and Girls Ranch, in Laurel Montana, Just outside Billings Montana.

Experiences there included daily sessions with adult counselors, in which I would be asked a series of questions about life, friends, goals, and even religion, and then the counselor, always male, would tell me any number of negative things about the goals, such as that I should develop healthier friendships, that my friends don't really care about me, that if I was a good Christian that I wouldn't be there, that my interest in religion was perverted, that I tried to supplant faith with my own values, and a wide number of other similar statements, that had no prompting from me.

On 4 occasions was restricted from attending meals as a form of disciplinary punishment, twice for inadequate participation in therapy, once in bible study, with one of the restrictions spanning an entire days meals. Was sent out to Deaconess Hospital's Emergency room in Billings, Montana with malnutrition and dehydration. Was given a wrist iv with 2 bags of saline, and later that evening returned to the Ranch.

Was told that I needed some pride and ego down, and later that week, was told by a counselor at the McVeigh lodge house, Terry, "You must think you're a real tough guy, yeah... that's it I bet, a tough guy, well come over here, I'll show you tough.' and I shook my head in disagreement, and backed up. He then grabbed me by my collar, kicked my leg from behind with his right foot, and i found myself back to the floor a few moments later. He then started saying 'not so tough now I bet, are you, what you going to say now, yeah, you know better.' After a few more minutes of that, he asked 'So are you ready to apologize; Cause I'll be here as long as it takes. ' I asked what did I do? He said 'Oh you know what you did, you just love to be a troublemaker everyone knows that.' I stayed still on the ground and closed my eyes while he bent down and started to shout in my face about how my parents didn't want me, and how its always the same, bad kids and then he always has to deal with it, then to say that it was ok, because he knew his job.'

I remember so vividly the way his breath stunk, and how I felt like every part of my back and shoulders was in pain. After about an hour or so he left to do a shift change, then came back and had me go back to my room, I fell asleep and don't remember anything else until that evening.

I had head to toe bruises for 3 weeks after that, even to the point of the nurse at the camp, writing into my report that I was bruised from head to toe. I told the staff at the ranch what had happened, and they told me that I was ' drawing too much negative enjoyment out of the incident'. The counselor Terry, an African American, who told stories of involvement as a volunteer fireman, and of getting up every morning at 4 am to swim laps at the YMCA, still works at the camp as of May 2007.

I had reported it to a Mr Hammer, who was a tall blond man with a beard, a Mr McVay, who was a shorter hobbyist weight-lifter/bodybuilder with a brown hair and moustache. To the nurse who did the health inspection. Also to a Mr Shreve, a short man who worked part time at a vinyl goods shop, such as for bags, carrying cases, and the like. Mr. Shreve also stated that he was a former U.S. Navy Seal.

After getting out, I later spoke with the Sherrif's office in Laurel, Montana; and was told at their front window that no such complaint of abuse was ever reported to their office from the ranch, and that after that much time, that they wouldn't bother investigating it.

I was subsequently left with Terry as my counselor for many of the next few weeks.
After the incident I began to have serious doubts about remaining there safely, and I gave a written letter to the head counselor for the 'McVeigh Lodge' one 'Mrs Mirch' that 'I no longer wished to remain here voluntarily.' She responded by calling me into her office, and declaring that my Parents had retained an attorney, in order to keep me there by force.

I later learned that my parents denied any such action, and that Mrs Mirch had never taken the appropriate steps to maintain my stay involuntarily.

I began to be as resistant as I could to any activity, willingly earning myself time in Isolation. To the point that I would be in there for more than 20 hours a day. The Counselors on several occasions called the ranch nurse over, to suggest giving me a sedative for being uncooperative, at one point his reply was that ' I can't give him drugs if he's just lying there. ' From that point forward I was spending almost the entire day, in isolation. When we were required to attend what they called a 'school.' I was then just walked over with the rest of the kids, then tossed into the isolation area there. Until one day, one of the staff, instructed me that if I continued to waste their time, that they were going to make me more uncomfortable. They then went and got a logbook, and came back and told me that I had to strip down, because it was a safety violation to let me where clothes with buttons, while in there.

After having done so, they took the clothes and put them on a chair next to theirs, and then left the door wide open to the isolation cell. Then leaving me in full view of anyone passing by the hallway, and remained that way during the next bell, at which time all the students had lined up, including about 7 of them in view , on either side of the adjacent hallway.

That evening I was subjected to hearing numerous comments about my weight, my body, and a few sexually inappropriate comments by the others at the all male lodge. All in supervised group 'rap ' sessions.

After a few weeks of this, I had a different counselor during the day, and they alleviated that routine, instead telling me that they didn't mind sitting there all day, since they still got paid the same. This lasted for most of the remainder of my stay, with me immutably opposed to remaining there, and with the staff restricting me from any contact with the outside world, be it family, a public attorney or friends.

Among some of the other noteable moments of the stay, was meeting Steven Curtis Chapmann, a musician, and his wife, and his statement, ' Well, I sure hope you do whatever is required to earn your way out of here.' As well as his wife telling a story about how they called up all their relatives to ensure that they weren't related before getting married, given that her maiden name was also Chapmann. Also another noteable moment, was when we were told that the lodges were actually assigned based on 'problem areas' to include such distinctions as ' drug use, sexual misconduct, skin color, problems in the family setting ( disobedience,runaways, etcetera.), and legal issues (crime.)

I had ended up in the lodge for people with ' problems in the family setting.'

In summary, the chief abuses I experienced, were that of physical abuse, sexual embarrassments and exposure, abuse of my rights in not permitting any legal recourse to residing there, and emotional abuse in the form of repeated browbeatings, negative feedback about my goals and religious beliefs, a great deal of isolation, and the physical and psychological affects of being denied food, while residing in a locked room.

Ever since this I've had repeated crisis of faith, and have had numerous shortfalls in terms of self confidence and diminished relations with others. I've also considered the value of suicide on more than one occasion, though never attempted it.

Submitted on January 2nd, 2009, I hereby certify under penalty of perjury, that the above is true and correct.

Andrew Hill

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Alicia Sanders at Hephzibah House (From:youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Alicia Sanders, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

My name is Alicia Wagner formerly it was Alicia Sanders.

My stay at HH is hard to talk about. I do not have as many memories as you would think I would. My mind has tried to block out most of it. I can only recall probably 40% of what went on there. I do not remember most of the girl’s names. The 4 names I do remember I was able to get in contact with later through searching on the internet..

I was there from about 1998-2000. I remember that I was told I was being taken on a family trip that summer. (Many of the girls were told this and the pastor there once admitted to telling the parents to tell us that to get us to cooperate for the car ride.) I did find out through my sister that I was not being taken on a family trip minutes before leaving. Had I known the place I was going to be taken I would have run away but at the time I had no idea.

My home life was not much to talk about at the time so as much as I screamed I didn’t want to go I thought to myself well it couldn’t be much worse. It was much worse. I was no longer being given the” rod of god” by my mother but I might as well have been. I was never given a bruise or a beating while I was there but the fear and brain washing I received will always be a part of my life. The bruises fade, some memories fade, but the impact and black cloud the experience has on my life will never go away no matter how hard I try. I wake up 3-4 times a month with horrible nightmares that I am locked up somewhere and can’t get out. The dreams are so real. I often wake up trying to catch my breath. My months at HH affect my every day life as well. I am very much a people person yet I find it hard to truly trust anyone. I have a constant struggle with how I perceive God. I often have spouts of depression when I think of this place. I have seen a therapist who has stated that I have had depression from this place. She has pointed out many signs in my life of depression from this place that I wasn’t even aware I had.

I will start from the day I arrived and give you as many memories that I have left of the place. So back to the beginning I was told I was being taken on a family trip I was taken by my mom’s friend and my mom. We arrived at the place and the sons of the Pastor there came out as soon as we pulled up to get the bags out of the car. I was escorted by the pastor into the house. My first thought was the way the people dressed. It was very much like in the pilgrim days. This didn’t bother me much as it was not too different than the way I was raised to dress. As soon as we got there the first discussion was money. My mom gave the pastor some money and he said it wasn’t enough and she said that his dad (the head pastor) had told her she would get a discount. He stated he would talk to his dad about it. I felt like a piece of meat being sold. They were bargaining over how much they needed to take me and my mom was paying to get me off of her hands. I have never in my life felt so unwanted as I did in that moment. I have never felt more abandoned or of less worth than I felt on that day. I truly can say I felt as if I had no one. It is such a horrible feeling to have no one. Not a soul to go to. I had never been so alone and I pray I never will again.

I was told to say goodbye to my mother as if I was going to thank her for taking me there or something. I told her I would never forgive if she left me there and that promise I have kept. I was taken downstairs and told to take off all my clothes in front of two staff members. It was almost as if I had been admitted to jail. Although , at the time I wouldn’t have known much about jail.

I had never seen a drug, never tasted alcohol., never seen porn or used bad language. I had a boyfriend that my mom did not approve of and that was the reason for me being there. Not really sure what 16 year old boyfriends any moms approve of but this was just the sin of all sins in my family. After I stripped I was told to get in the shower and wash really hard. I was told afterwards this is custom when a new girl gets there to wash the sin off of her upon entering. I was told when I got out that I would never be able to use a hair dryer or makeup or any hair supplies as long as I was there so not to bother asking. I was dressed in a very itchy old uniform. My mother had paid for cullotes to be made for me. She was told the pastor’s daughter would sew some for me. I was given instead some old bleached stained form of a skirt. That had been used by many past student. After entering there I was never again to look the same. Never could I pretend to like something about myself and I really didn’t have to pretend. I could never so much as get the tangles out of my hair. I never wore anything (expect to church or my uniform to school, that didn’t have huge bleach stains on them.

I was told that my mother had told the staff that I had an eating disorder so I was never given small or half portions upon my arrival. I was told I had to eat heaping amounts of food. The first week there I would throw up after every meal. If I did not eat my whole meal I was given it at the next meal. If I did not eat my fish for supper I was given it in the morning to eat cold right out of the fridge I had to eat it as well as my breakfast and it would just keep adding up and getting more old every day that I couldn’t finish. We only had a small amount of time to eat our meals so food was swallowed never eaten.

We were only allowed to talk to our assigned talking buddies at the table if a staff member was present so talking really didn’t happen as the few minutes we had to eat were spent shoveling food in so that we didn’t have to eat it cold the next morning. Some girls did not get to eat at all if they were being punished. This was hard especially on days we had to work very hard outside. We were sometimes given jobs that grown men should have been doing.

I remember a particular day having to break up rock with shovels and load the rock into the back of a truck. The rocks were huge many girls were crying from trying to lift the rocks. The pastor’s wife (about 150 pounds over weight) would stand on the balcony of her house and yell at us that we were lazy and needed to work harder. She often did this when we would do our daily exercises also. She would correct us in our format. I was not allowed to talk to anyone but one person for many months and like I said that was only at the dinner table if a staff member was present. I had to read the rule book weekly.

It told us what we could and cold not say on the phone or in letters home. My phone calls were timed and monitored by someone on another phone sitting 1 foot away from me. Everything I said was written down in a book by the staff lady listening to the conversation. I was always warned before the phone call that If I said anything wrong the phone call would be disconnected and I would not get a phone call for a few months.

We only got to talk to our parents for 10 minutes once a month on a Sunday. I was only allowed to see my mother once I believe my whole stay there. My meeting with my family ended horrible as I was told I was giving to much eye contact to my sister. I was brought down to the basement and in front of all the students scorned and told that I am the reason that they would not be able to have siblings come to see them anymore. They were told that from now on only the parents could visit them in these meetings. I believe they were allowed to visit for 3 hours in the conference room once every 3 months with a staff member present at all times. I felt so horrible not because I had gotten in trouble but because I would never do anything to make the stay harder for any one else there. I had let my girls down and I felt as though I would never be able to make it up to them. Of course I could not tell them I was sorry or anything of the sort.

There was no form of love shown. No one could touch or show emotion. I was a walking puppet for fear I do anything to be punished. Punishment was given out hourly. I tried to blend in and never say anything. I tried to always act happy although the inside of me was screaming.. We had to write down when we pooped and how big or small it was and if it was not what the staff thought it should be were where given castor oil and phsyillium seed. If we had a period ( I did for some of the months there) we were to show the staff member our pad before throwing it away. Not really sure the reasoning behind that. If we went a day without pooping we had to show the staff member our bowel movement before we could flush. There was no such thing as any privacy or self respect. It was non existent.

I really put everything I had into my school work it was my escape and my hope to finish early and leave. I did stay 2 months longer than 15 months because I was 2 months short of being done with school. My mother was not told I was done with my school work until 2 weeks after I had graduated (or finished my courses) I was forced to sit in a cubicle and read a book since my studies were through. Humiliation was often a way to punish us. I made A and B honor roll all throughout my schooling there. One time I failed a history test and Patty had me stand in front of the school and say that I was selfish for failing this test and when I asked her why I had to say this she said because I didn’t care a damn about anyone if I did I would have memorized the dates of the war because I would have cared about those people that died there.

I remember having horrible migraines while I was there and I was never given any medicine not even so much as an advil. My migraines were so bad I would often throw up from the pain. I was told to lay in bed and my meals were taken from me. If I wasn’t better in 24 hours I had to repeat the same thing for the next 24 hours even if I was feeling better in the next 12. I remember a new student coming in and screaming and banging to get out she yelled I cannot live hear I cannot be like those robots. They are robots they are robots can you not see that!!!! It hit me like a slap in the face. That is exactly what I am a robot. But as fast as it hit me I reminded myself – but I have no other choice.

We had to line up to go to the bathroom and wait our turn for our stall to open. We could never just go to the restroom when we wanted it was when the staff member wanted to take us all. I remember a couple of girls being forced to wear depends because they could not wait for the next bathroom break and since the staff members would not let them go they would wet themselves.

One girl was forced to wear depends every day to school and and to church. All of her underwear were taken from her. I remember being so afraid that I would maybe be that person one day. She was such a normal person when she came in just like me. But now she was wearing depends and crying all of the time almost as if she turned into a crazy person.

I use to pray every night that God would keep me sane. Speaking of God he was used to scare us. He was a god of judgment and wrath; He was never portrayed as a god of love unless they were talking about the fact that he so lovingly died for our sins. That is the only time god and love were used in the same sentence.

I was never beaten but I know of a girl that was taken upstairs and given the rod of god while I was there. I did not see what happened but I know that it did. My sister use to send me about 20.00 per month to use on books or school socks. I was never given any of this money. I once asked if I could buy some chewable vitamin C from the pantry since I had a horrible cold. I was told I had no money in my account.

We were where constantly reminded how much it cost to keep us there and how grateful we should be and that our parents only paid 1/4th of what it cost to keep us there. I remember cleaning a warehouse they had there. It was filled with shelves from top to bottom of gifts given to the home. Pots and pan in boxes not even opened so many things that would never be used that someone could be using in this warehouse. We were never given good food unless it was a birthday. We were forced to drink moldy orange juice, powdered milk still warm, old cereal all dumped together no matter what kind. We often had to open cans of food with no labels and dump them all in a pot and that was supper.

I remember one a girl found a big green hairy worm in her salad we had picked they forced her to eat it. She started throwing it up and it became a huge debate that some of the staff thought she should have to eat the portion she threw up also and some thought she should just have to finish the worm. The plate had to be taken upstairs so patty could determine what portion of the plate she had to finish. She had to finish eating the worm but not the part she threw up. Were where told this would happen if we did not clean our lettuce good enough. We lived in constant fear. We were never allowed to leave – not for a wedding or a funeral – never. We were taught that men are superior to obey them no matter what. To never disrespect them. We were told not to talk in the presence of a man unless asked a question. It was very much a place of mind control (brain washing). I would never wish anyone to go there. I have left so much out but I really wish to not remember most of it.

I have written this against the advice of many. I was told there is no point in it it would only make me remember bad things and for a stranger I don’t even know. My instant response was I want to do it because it is the right thing to do. But after much thought if we don’t do this for the strangers that are going there now or might go there later who will? It won’t be the people that send them there. It won’t be the family and friends at home because most of them have no idea where the student has been taken. If we don’t do it no one will. Not only that but these aren’t strangers we are HH sisters.

I live for the day that this place will be shut down. I think only that would make me feel the weight lifted off of me. How can a place like this exist in America. How can it not be against the law to lock someone in a basement for months on end with no outside communication and no crime committed. They are abusing girls in the name of God and that is unforgivable. I feel as though not family, not a best friend, no one could every truly understand me. And they never really could unless they went to a place like this and woke up every single morning broken hearted because it wasn’t just a nightmare. Every morning feeling sick because you have to live another day after day after day in the basement. People can say they understand but they really can’t. They have not lived it. Only us girls truly understand.

We will always feel close for that reason. My testimony is open to anyone and I will answer any questions anyone has about this place.

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Laura DuPuy Weeks at CEDU (From:youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Laura DuPuy Weeks, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

CEDU Survivor. October 1989-May 1992

Hi My name is Laura DuPuy Weeks. I give full permission for my statement to be used. Let me start by thanking the people who are doing this. I have thought of this often. My friends and I have just recently made a documentary on CEDU with everyone telling there stories. Our hope is to raise awareness about therapeutic treatment facilities and to maybe, just maybe give some rights to adolescences and offer some protection, to break this horrible trend.

I was sent to CEDU October 4th 1989. I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was 14 years old and I was tricked into going there by an educational consultant and my parents. I had behavioral problems growing up, a lot dealing with adoption. I also had a history of alcohol and drug abuse. But it was the "oppositional defiance disorder" that sent me there. Basically a label thrown on me however I do not remember seeing a doctor to receive this label. I was experimenting with alcohol and weed. I snuck out of the house, fought with my parents and was an average student at school. I hung around with the troublemakers, all though it seemed that it was I that was the trouble maker, mostly do to the fact that I was always grounded and never allowed to do anything. So that is the behavior that landed me that label. Let me also include that I am from North Carolina. I was sent to the top of a mountain in California.

The program at CEDU was 2 1/2 years. I never got to say goodbye to anyone. I didn't come home for a visit till almost 2 years later. I was not allowed to speak with or correspond with siblings or grandparents for the first 9 months. I spoke on a monitored phone call to my parents every 2 weeks. My mail was read before it was sent and before I received it.

I felt completely abandoned...again. The program was based on one mans idea turned philosophy, to be implicated not by a highly trained therapist or doctor, but by other recovering addicts and criminals most of whom had no education in working with children. These so called faculty verbal, emotionally and mentally abused us repeatedly. They climbed inside our heads, used our horrible thoughts and issues against us in front of our peers. Convinced us all that obviously we were not wanted by our families and that this was the last stop. I remember specifically being told many times that we had no rights and that our parents signed them over to the school.

Three days a week were divided into groups and sent to sit in a circle and have these "raps" Basically being screamed at by the faculty and then your peers at how much your a loser, slut, whore, mistake and so on. Until you broke down and cried. I was 14.. I had not lost my virginity yet. They also had emotional growth experiences where we had 7 different ones that lasted 24 hours. They kept us up all night screaming and yelling at us telling us awful things until we all finally broke. They made us do bizarre things and humiliated us in front of our peers.

I ran away 7 times. Again I am from North Carolina. I didn't know where I was going and I did not care as long as I wasn't there anymore. I hitched hiked with strangers, wandered the woods and hung in the shadows. I always got picked up by the cops. Once I refused to go back there and told them to send me to Juvenal Hall. I sat there for three days. Once brought back I was not a loud to speak unless spoken to. I=No laughing, no smiling, no singing, and I could not be touched or touch. Only a few people were a loud to speak to me. I did work and dish detail, as well as sit at a table in the dinning room, for all to see, but they had to pretend like I didn't exist. The longest I sat at one was for 28 days.

There is so much more to say that it could be put in a book. There was no doctor or nurse during the time I was there. No licensed therapist. There were children there that needed far greater attention and could have benefited from some medication, that was not allowed. We had no contact with the outside world. Education there was a joke. I left there at 17. My education was the same as when I went in. At a 9th grade level. Somehow the school got strange things approved for education. For example, chopping and crosscutting wood was science. Tending a farm was for something else. We only had one real teacher there and she was part time. We did a lot of craft stuff as classes too. So when I started college. It took me over 2 years to catch up to a freshman level at college.

The lack of education is not what scarred me, it was the rest of the awful experience that did. I have struggled for the past 17 years with that school. I have been diagnosed with PTSD form the school. I have had night terrors ever since I left. Mostly about being sent back. Waking up in utter terror sweats and so on. I have literally run away from the emotional scarring by moving all the time, problems with drugs, anger,pain and confusion. It was not until last year that I was able to get some help and deal with the things that happened to me there at that school.

Again I give my permission for you to use my statement. If there is any further information I can give ( because I have tons of it)please don't hesitate to contact me. thank you for your time,

Laura ldupuy1

CEDU war a large organization and very much founded the term "Therapeutic Boarding School". The first CEDU school was opened around 1968 and all the school closed in 2005 due to some lawsuits.

References:
Datasheet about the boarding schools from the Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on Youthrights

Alicia Hamilton at Hephzibah House (From: Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Alicia Hamilton, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

My name is Alicia Hamilton. When I was sent to Hephzibah House (HH) in the fall of 1989, I had just recently turned 12 years old and my last name at that time was that of my stepfather, “Cornish”. When sent to HH, I was not in any trouble with the law; I had not yet had any boyfriends; I hadn’t done or even ever seen alcohol / drugs. My childhood “problems” only began after my mother married a man who began to physically and emotionally abuse me when I was 6-7 years old. Driving into the grounds of HH for the first time, I saw a simple but large white house with a church on the side and lots of fencing. My parents said little as we were quickly ushered to the upstairs room, the room where I would receive many beatings in the next 20 months to come. My memory begins to play tricks on me here, as there are some things that I VERY VIVIDLY recall about what happened to me during my stay at HH, and then other daily things that I have completely forgotten about. I do remember the initial trauma of my HH experience was being told that I would be there for 15 months (at least), and more importantly, I was told that I could not have contact with my grandparents (with whom I lived from birth to age 6 and were like parents to me).

Upon “orientation” Several of William’s family members went through my items with me and began marking them. I was told I could not have some of my belongings and I was stripped of the clothing I had, put into an itchy polyester outfit and the rules further explained to me, I remember saying “Oh my god!” and Heather, one of the Williams’ daughters, slapped my face and told me “we do not use the Lord’s name in vain here!” I was told that I will be learning to be a child of god and to become a Godly woman, and as such the dress code was explained to me among other rules. Much of my memory has repressed the details of daily life but I do remember being spanked “for being disrespectful” that very first night for questioning the food I was served (it was some kind of strange soup). On my first morning of HH, we were woken up very early, and of course after not sleeping most of the night I did not awaken easily. A staff lady ripped my sheets off me and later that day I was paddled again, this time for disobedience.

One of the more unusual things about HH’s rules is that as I learned upon my introduction to the living quarters, there were certain girls there that I was allowed to talk to and others that I could not even make eye contact with. This concept was incredibly strange, not being able to even LOOK at another girl. I was spanked many times for looking at girls I should not have looked at. Initially, I was limited to talking with a few girls, then they allowed me to talk to everyone…for a while….I will explain more about this later.

The most important thing that anyone should know about HH is that no girl has any privacy; even the one large bathroom was watched vigilantly by a staff member, and though we did have “stalls” for showers and the toilets, our time monitored closely (Just imagine, “Alicia you’ve been on the toilet for a while are you constipated?!” being loudly questioned in front of all the other girls in earshot), sanitary napkins were inspected and we were told to account on a public chart for what kind of bowel movement we had that day. We had a specific shower time, and we were herded into the shower stalls and given a short amount of time to get ready and then the timer was set: Three minutes to take a shower. Most of the time my shower was last and the water was cold so it wasn’t so bothersome, but I felt bad for the girls that had a lot of hair to wash and condition in such a short amount of time.

Fear was constant, most often it was the fear of intense pain and humiliation. The spankings I received were random (sometimes I’d be spanked 1 to 3 times in a week sometimes none for a week) so I was always on edge. The spankings were very ritualistic: I would be forced to lay down, a chair was placed over my head while either Ron Williams or his Wife Patty Williams, or in other situations I believe his son’s wife (Wanda?) would spank me. There were usually three staff members present to hold my feet and arms. After getting me on the floor and holding me down, whomever was going to do the spanking would pray for me, and then sometimes they would wait for what seemed like minutes before administering the punishment—I think it was to add to the fear I felt as I just wanted to get it over with. I personally felt they enjoyed being sadistic in the times they slowed the process down, to show us the power they had over us.

My first couple of spankings were 7 swats each time, and I cried in great pain, as they were very severe swats, and after the beatings I discovered severe bruising and sometimes welts with blood droppings oozing from the welts. Sometimes they missed my buttocks and hit my spine and this left very painful deep bruising. I had heard of a girl that had been there right before me that they deemed unable to help so I thought maybe if I was “too hard to help” that they would let me go early too. So, at my very insightful 12 years of age, I decided that if I didn’t cry during the spankings that they would think I was unable to be helped and that they would let me go. So when would get spanked I would try not to cry at first, biting my cheeks until they bled to fight the urge to scream, but I learned that this just led to more swats, usually 14 at which point I was certainly wimpering, but once I counted 21 and after that particular beating I was covered in welts and they were bleeding little droplets of blood, more blood than any other beating. I was so uncomfortable to sit or sleep that I was on very good behavior for the next week but I still somehow managed to get paddled again despite my best efforts to follow all the rules perfectly, and this time I cried immediately.

During the first few months at HH, I went to bed hungry many nights and fantasized about food and far away places. One of the ways that we were punished is to be denied dinner, which could be very difficult after several hours of performing vigorous chores, and for me that occurred at least 3 to 4 times a week; Instead of eating food, I was forced to drink a protein drink which was not mixed properly, and though some of the girls did not mind the drink, I had to gag it down. I dreaded these drinks. Dinner was taken away for just about any reason so it seemed, usually I did not pass my chores or do my “church notes” or memorize very long passages of bible verses well enough to earn my supper. And on the note of chores…The cleanliness standards that we were held to were above those of any 5 star hotel I’ve ever been to. When it came to work and doing the chores, I actually tried very hard to do them correctly (I hated that protein drink!) and would still fail. Again, I believe that this was yet another way for the leadership of HH to exert their power upon us and keep us insecure, afraid, and ready to embrace their extreme religious agenda.

Another note about the food, there were some very unusual meals that we had to eat along with many pills we had to take. Many of the “soups” they made were just a bunch of unmarked cans thrown into a pot together and the soups that arrived from this method were disgusting to say the least. I remember being unable to eat this soup a few times without throwing up, I could not eat it all at once. When at HH, if you did not eat all your food, it was served as your next meal. Cold. I had many cold, mystery soup breakfasts and dinners there. I lost a lot of weight and began to have irregular periods (I actually had my first period on my 12th birthday and was regular until a few months into HH). They gave us a lot of vitamins at HH as well, and I recall to this day an unusual reaction some of us had to the vitamins: the reaction was what we were told was a “B” reaction. I had over a dozen of these reactions and they always occurred after the mornings breakfast and during “devotional” time; what would happen to me is that the skin on my entire body would become red and burn for about 10-20 minutes then it would go away. Other girls could see if I was having a “B” reaction and I could see if they were as well as the skin would become very red and flushed. The staff explained that it was the body’s way of removing excess vitamin B from the system. It happened to some other girls as well and was random.

After about 4 months there at HH, I’d say around Feb of 1990, I was placed on “Shadow” status for about nine months, I remember this because I got off of it right before thanksgiving. Being shadowed was psychologically and emotional torture. Literally, I was not allowed to talk to any other human being or look them in the eye and I had to follow a staff member around 24/7 (including sleeping right next to one). Being “shadowed”, it was extremely humiliating, dehumanizing, and it served the purpose they wanted; they broke my spirit…I think I went a little crazy during this time, living in fantasy land, coming up with imaginary friends...If I was desperate enough to interact with another human being, I could ask for some “religious counseling” about some passage in the bible and get some conversation that way, but it really wasn’t what I wanted to talk about considering that all day and all night was religious indoctrination. Fortunately, I actually found some of the Old Testament gory and barbaric enough to be interesting, and I remember discussing with one of the staff ladies some of the stories and the meaning of why god wanted his armies to cut off the foreskins of his enemies, which often just got me into trouble (even though I was discussing scripture, I was not to “question it”). This, “do not question” rule I specifically learned when I questioned a staff member about Lot and how he basically murdered his daughter, and I was, in so many words told that “as you see this is gods way of showing us your role as a woman; women are not as important as a man and woman are flawed because of Eve’s sin this is the lot you bear; that you do not understand that by now is troubling” and I had to write some 500 sentences about my place under god and man. Sentence writing, by the way was another form of punishment. I probably wrote some ten thousand sentences over the course of my 20 months at HH and that is not an exaggeration.

So I learned to conform. I learned how to ask the right questions and how to appear submissive, weak, and without any will of my own. Sometimes I fear, that there were weeks that went by that I really was that way---they were stealing my soul and I was loosing any sense of individuality. We went to church at least three times a week. We had to sing in the choir, a choir in which we spent countless hours practicing and were ultimately recorded and tapes were made and sold with my / our voices on them. Since singing (and I have an awful voice) was the only time I could use my voice during my period of being shadowed, I sang with vigor. To become un-shadowed, I had to prove I was godly so I tried everything I could, I got baptized, I wrote profusely long church notes, I memorized extra bible verses, and so on and son on.

During my time of being shadowed, I became very sick. If one became sick with the flu or with the cold, no medicine was given, even though I remember a time when I was very sick with a high fever with vomiting. Even though I was throwing up, I was forced to drink the protein drink, I remember this vividly, I was nearing the end of the glass, then I gagged it all up, along with bile my stomach as I dry heaved into the into the bucket I was allowed to carry around with me. Ms. Saylor (Spelling?) made me drink my vomit out of the bucket, which took over an hour and I was very tearful. Later that night, with a high fever and still being very ill, I was paddled.

I was finally allowed to be off of being shadowed, and it was so strange to speak to another human being. I felt incredibly insecure, as if I didn’t know how to act anymore, what is the right thing to say or not? As I got more and more used to the routine and fast paced schedules of HH, the time began to go by faster, mostly because they kept us so busy.

Regarding some of the “chores” we had to do, I believe that I was exploited for labor, along with other girls. When staff discovered I had skill working with my hands and that I could crochet with fine thread and read / interpret complex stitching designs, I was given the task to make hundreds of these little figurines and cross stitch projects which were sold / traded for goods to benefit HH’s financials. I was 13 when I was making these things, and my curse was my speed and ability to do good work. Sometimes the demand was so high for these crafts that making the crafts was my only chore and I’d crochet for an entire Saturday or be told to do it during school hours. This was actually a job that girls wanted as it was more appealing than scrubbing the entire dorm floor on your hands and knees, but after doing it so much, my fingers and wrists would begin to really hurt. Also, though I never had to, I know other girls were sent upstairs to clean the Williams’ house. Near the end of my stay, when I was seen as “reformed” and “godly”, I was actually transported beyond the walls of HH, I was sent to a church “officials” home to clean and renovate, it was the Keagan’s (?) home I believe and my job was to remodel their kitchen and home. I used sanding paper and arm strength and worked for hours to sand off the old varnish and paint from their cabinets and then we stained and prepared the ‘new’ cabinets. We painted their home, we did their gardening….While at HH, I even had to “clean” a deer carcass killed by a car that the Williams family ate for many meals I imagine. I remember feeling misused but too afraid to do anything but the best of work and to do it with a smile on my face.

In short those are the most significant memories that come to light about my experience with this place. I indeed feel that HH abuses girls’ on a physical, psychological, emotional, religious and spiritual level. The isolation and fear tactics they use are powerful and the results, while short term may be successful, they leave a lasting impact.

As a disclaimer, I want it to be known that after “release” I was forced to write a “testimony” about how great HH was and how much it helped me. My stepfather sat down with me and pretty much wrote the testimony; After being there for 20 months and finally being “free” I was so afraid that if I did not do what they wanted me to do that I would be sent back, and my worst nightmare was having to stay there until I was 18. So whatever HH sent out as my “testimony” way back when…Those were not my words, they were forced.

For reason unknown to mankind this boarding school continues to remain open. The State of Indiana simply doesn't care about so-called troubled girls. It is located near Winona Lake in Indiana

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Sarah Forman at the Family Foundation School (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Sarah Forman, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

Hello. My name is Sarah Forman. I am a FFS survivor. I was there from February 98-August 99. My time there seemed so unreal, like it was just an awful nightmare I tried to block out the memory of. I. however have read every testimony from all the other FFS survivors, ones I knew personally and ones I didn’t and I again realized the hell I personally endured and watched others endure for the 17 months I was there. I now feel compelled to speak out about my experience. I only hope it helps to stop future abuse from occurring at the FFS or for the school to be shut down completely. I have a lot to say and I am not afraid to mention names of staff NOT students. I am not going to narrate my whole stay there, just the abuses that occurred to me and others. Sorry if my story isn’t smooth and all together. I have tried my best to remember what I blocked out of my memory for so long.

First I am going to tell you why I was sent to FFS. I had been in and out of the psychiatric hospitals from age 11-15 for depression/suicidal threats and behavior problems. I was then placed in a group home, with my consent. There I started smoking cigarettes and on home visits, I was defiant and very disrespectful towards my mother and got worse, although I was doing well in other areas like school and socialization. Still my parents had enough of my defiant and disrespectful behavior and someone recommended the Family Foundation School. I was informed I was going and went with a police escort and my parents.

During my stay at the FFS, I experienced and witnessed many horrors that should never be experienced by any child. First, I had an attorney who had fought on my behalf to keep me out of the school and lost prior to my arrival. I asked to call her several times during my stay there and was refused the right. We were told we didn’t have rights until we were 18 by the staff and senior members. I believed them. I was told I did not have a mental illness, which I in fact did and do and is documented to this day. I was told I was just a “brat”. I was shortly taken off all my psychiatric medication which included an antidepressant and antipsychotic to clear my thinking. They didn’t believe in mental illness there and there was no substantial treatment for mental illness unless you consider being verbally abused “therapy”. There was no positive criticism. Girls were called whores. I myself was not called one because I wasn’t considered pretty. Instead I was told I looked like a slob and criticized for bad outfit choices I made in front of the whole table. At the same time, I was denied new clothes. Most of my clothes had been taken from me when I arrived so I had little wardrobe choices. Character attacks and degradation at the table were common. We were told we “needed humility because we were arrogant” when in fact most of the students there suffered from low self esteem. One boy in family 2, who wasn’t there long, was videotaped by staff while he was restrained and had dog biscuits shoved in his mouth. I didn’t witness it but it was brought up at the table and the staff admitted doing it. I unfortunately don’t remember the staff’s name. I know they worked in family 2 and it wasn’t Bob and Susan. They also tried to impose the first step on us, which is to admit we’re powerless over our addictions, by placing us on work sanctions and giving us dry tuna to eat and other harsh punishments. Oh we realized how powerless we were but not over our “addictions”(some addictions were real, some were imagined by the staff). We realized we were completely powerless as far as rights.

The whole time I was there, I was shunned and treated like a leper. I was placed on house blackout as a punishment because they felt I didn’t really want the program and remained on it most of my stay. I couldn’t even talk to staff during part of my blackout. Being simply compliant wasn’t enough. Then you were “just skating by” or “biding your time”. I was resistant at first and negative but then when I realized that the school had complete control over me, I began to comply but that wasn’t good enough.

I enjoyed and excelled at school but for not “really working my program” I was taken out of school and placed on work sanctions frequently. During some of these sanctions, I endured harsh elements like the cold winter weather for most of my day as did the people who were in charge of watching me. I was always placed in the corner or isolation for long periods of time. Given that and the fact I was on house blackout and off my antidepressant, I was depressed and felt isolated most of my stay there. I will never forget the holidays, which is supposed to be a joyful time of year. I was compliant and trying to “work the program” but still on house blackout. Most of the staff took blackouts off for the holidays but Paul Geer, our family “father”, was particularly cruel and refused to let me and another girl speak to anyone on Christmas Day while everyone else had a good time. This girl and I were also forced to sit in the corner at a dance and not socialize with anyone. Like I said, we were doing what we were supposed to be doing.

I was also isolated from my family. I was placed on family blackout for refusing to do my work sanctions at times and refusing to eat dry tuna. I was taken off shortly when Paul thought I didn’t want to talk to my parents when the truth was I was just majorly depressed and my spirit was broken so I didn’t care anymore. Prior to the holidays, my mom and Grandpa drove several hours to see me in a play and visit me. I was told I could see them when I got done with the play and my mom was told the same. After the play, they were gone. My sponsor and family “mom”, Christine Spicer told me that my Grandpa was tired so my mom had to leave. Soon after that I was placed on family blackout. I later found out after leaving that my mom was told I had misbehaved when that was far from the truth. I remained on family blackout about 6 months.

As for nutritional deprivation, I would definitely say I was at times deprived nutrition. Dry tuna straight out of the can on an English muffin for lunch and dinner and a small bowl of maypo for breakfast hardly meet the daily nutritional requirements for a teen. This was the menu of choice for those who were deemed “defiant” or “not working their program”. I had to endure eating it sometimes. I got out of it sometimes though by refusing to do my work sanction unless I was given regular food and it worked a few times. I also at one time threatened Paul I would tell my lawyer who was due to visit me, that I was being malnourished. He then started adding mayonnaise and celery to my tuna. That wouldn’t last though. I saw one girl get served dry tuna for at least two months and started having problems with her bowels and was still given tuna and milk of magnesia. This same girl was also made to stand all day long in the corner and given only one pair of clothes to wear for months.

Whenever I was sick there, which was about 3 times during my stay there, I was accused of lying. I recall within my first few months there, I was in the dorm in Family 2, dusting(my chore). I started feeling extremely dizzy. I asked to lie down for a minute because I felt dizzy. The girls insisted I continue on with my chore so I did. I then knew I was going to faint so I kind of threw myself on the floor to avoid falling into something and hurting myself further. I blacked out for a minute and then came to. I awoke to being screamed at by my junior sponsor and told I was making the whole thing up. I was allowed to go to the nurse and my temperature was taken and it was high. Even though I was proven to be sick, I was told I had exaggerated the whole thing and after that is when the punishments started getting severe. Shortly after that, I was brought up for not doing a good enough job on dish crew. I was punished on Easter Day by being expected to clean up after my whole family of 30 people and do the dish crew of the whole school’s dishes by myself. While I did these chores, I was also required to trot. In the same family( family 2, which at the time was run by Bob and Susan Runge), I also remember a boy on crutches being forced to carry heavy tubs of dishes up the stairs without help. The last time I was sick there, I was put in the corner for claiming to be sick and when I asked to have my temperature taken, I was refused. Finally I begged to have it taken all day and the school nurse reluctantly took it and it was high. I was still punished in the corner.

Scare tactics were commonly used to make us stay there and/or comply. We were all told we would end up dead or in jail if we left. One girl was brought up at the table and taunted about a previous molestation that had occurred to her by Paul Geer. He made it feel like her fault she was molested and then told her if she dared try to run away or leave the school it would happen again. Kids were scared into eating foods they couldn’t tolerate by being threatened with food tubes. I myself had scare tactics used on me by my peers at the direction of Robin Ducey and Audra Runge. I was court ordered there. I was threatened if I didn’t comply by eating dry tuna and doing a work sanction, I would be sent to a juvenile detention facility. I started to think I would be happier there although I had never been to one. Girls were instructed to tell me horror stories of their times in juvenile facilities to scare me. Robin then threatened to have me shipped out in 24 hours and told me my parents were in full support of me going to a juvenile detention facility. I later found out this was not true at all.

I experienced minor physical abuse at the school. During my last month there, I was on yet another work sanction and I was to do dish crew. I refused to do it and was physically dragged up the stairs by staff and students by my arms. I had bruises all over my upper arms when I left the school.

All phone calls and letters to parents were monitored and read. We weren’t allowed to tell our parents what went in the school because it would be considered a manipulation and we would be heavily punished. My parents were in the dark most of the time about what happened to me at the school. I was on family blackout most of my stay and when I DID talk to my parents, I was only allowed to say positive things about the school.

I finally got out of the school by giving up on everything and being noncompliant. I then begged to call my mom and they finally let me. I begged her to take me out and told her that they were threatening me with juvenile hall. My mom came that day and got me. Other students weren’t so lucky though. I don’t care if the staff there or previous students think I was a “brat” who “didn’t work her program”. I did what I had to do to get out of an abusive situation. I tried to comply several times and that wasn’t enough so I gave up on everything and worked on fighting to get out. I suffered from a broken heart, a broken spirit and a low self esteem which was supported by staff mainly. I felt hopeless and suicidal at times. The only little gleam of hope I held on to was my 18th birthday. I haven’t led the most successful life since leaving the school and my mental condition has worsened. I won’t blame all my problems on the school but I will say they did absolutely nothing to help me. I experienced the same nightmares others have of being forced to go back there and trying to tell people that I’m over 18 and they can’t make me but somehow they can. The nightmares have only recently ended. This is my first time speaking out about the abuses that occurred because I didn’t realize it was actual abuse until hearing John Martin Crawford’s testimony and reading testimonies of my fellow classmates. Now I won’t shut up about it. Something must be done about the FFS and other institutions like it. I have now realized that I didn’t fail at the FFS. The FFS failed me and my parents. The school preys on desperate parents. Anyways this is my testimony. If I remember more details, I will edit it.

This boarding school continues to be in operation. It is located near Hancock in the state of New York. 2013 the school changed its name to Allynwood Academy due to the bad press.

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school on the Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on youthrights.org