Cult Insanity

by Irene Spencer

  Their faith shaken, they got into the car to return to the colony. Ervil, never one to pass up an opportunity to preach, spent the entire trip chastising the group, accusing them of lusting after money. He said they had lost the spirit of God because they had diverted their attention away from the very purpose of the trip. The dejected group wondered among themselves what exactly they had done to tick God off. Fervently believing Ervil’s whispers were from God, they took responsibility for the foiled mission.

  One disgruntled member, who had donated his nest egg, asked Joel why he had allowed them to participate in the failed venture. Joel offered consoling advice: “God wants to give us his treasures. This is just a small setback. The scripture promises us the riches of the gentiles. We will prosper mightily as we build up the kingdom. This is just a test to see where our hearts really are.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  My mother-in-law, Maud, owned about fifty acres within the LeBaron spread. Each parcel was fenced and divided up among her family. When she was about sixty-eight, her sons took turns planting crops on her land, using the proceeds to help support her.

  One sunny morning while I was visiting Maud, we heard the sounds of a tractor nearby. From her window, she glanced out toward her bare field, surprised that one of her grandsons was plowing her land. “I wonder why he’s on my land?” she asked uneasily. “He doesn’t have permission to use it. I told Verlan he could plant there this year to help support his wives.”

  Knowing it would be too great an imposition for her to walk the distance to confront her grandson, I offered to inquire about it. He saw me walking to the barbed wire fence where I awaited his arrival. He kept his eye on the plow until he was almost to the fence, then he lifted the hydraulically controlled plow, allowing him to turn the tractor around. Once the tractor was in neutral, he jumped off and walked toward me. “What’s going on, Tia?” he asked, addressing me as “aunt.” He hadn’t turned out as white and delightsome as his two younger siblings. His appearance was more like that of his mother’s, short and darker skinned.

  “What are you doing?” I inquired. “Your grandmother sent me over to investigate. She wants to know why you’re plowing her land.”

  “Oh, it’s not hers anymore. Uncle Ervil said he needed the money, so he sold it to me.”

  “Well, Grandma knows nothing of this. You’d better check with her before you do any more plowing.”

  Sure enough, Maud’s own son had defrauded her by selling off her property. She never did confront Ervil, but she was sickened and brokenhearted by his betrayal. Despite her feelings, she kept quiet, preferring to bear the shame of her son’s actions privately.

  BETWEEN THE BIRTHS of her nine children and Ervil’s quests to gather new wives, Delfina suffered bouts of severe depression. Regularly, she’d lose touch with reality and often needed to be hospitalized. Her mental weakness infuriated Ervil, so he used it as an excuse to search out new wives. He belittled and defamed her, making sure everyone knew she was a thorn in his flesh and that the devil controlled her.

  Though Ervil had written her off, I felt a deep compassion for Delfina. I befriended her, becoming her confidante and helper. Her five small girls had so few clothes that I made it my responsibility to sew dresses for them, using the discarded clothes Verlan brought to Mexico from Vegas. Also, I sewed nylon panties, making six pairs apiece for them. Delfina was so grateful. It did my heart good to finally see her focusing on something other than Ervil. I identified with her. She was separated from her parents and siblings. She had no real marriage and in her poverty was left to fend for herself.

  On two separate occasions, she successfully petitioned a Mexican friend in El Valle who owned a clothing store to allow her to sell dresses from house to house on commission. She rode the bus to nearby towns and knocked on doors, selling her goods. Delfina thrived on her accomplishments, and I was tickled to see that she had found a purpose and now wore a couple of pretty new dresses herself.

  When he found out, Ervil insisted that Delfina stop her enterprise immediately. He told her she was degrading him by selling on the streets. Obediently, she returned the few remaining dresses to her friend. Again, I witnessed Delfina relinquish reality, sinking deeper into her life of shattered dreams.

  At times, though, Delfina held on to what seemed to be a small ray of hope, watching . . . waiting . . . for Ervil’s return. Though she felt his rejection and his disdain toward her and even her children, she could not even entertain the idea that Ervil had abandoned her, let alone her children.

  Her daughter Sylvia Esther married Thomas Liddiard when she was fifteen, becoming his second wife. Another daughter, Sara Jane, was, at fifteen, forced to marry, literally fighting her father as he dragged her to the altar. She was given to Dan Jordan to be another one of his plural wives.

  Beautiful Rebecca, the apple of Delfina’s eye, had been promised to Victor Chynoweth at the tender age of fourteen. For two years, Ervil dangled her like a carrot before Victor, enticing him to supply Ervil with large sums of money from his lucrative auto dealership in Ogden, Utah. Delfina was brokenhearted seeing her adolescent daughters used as pawns in the game of polygamy.

  On the other hand, because of her total loyalty and dedication to her father, tall, sweet, sixteen-year-old Lillian was allowed to marry Victor’s brother, Mark Chynoweth, whom she loved.

  I couldn’t help but admire Ervil’s daughter Alicia. She was beautiful, blonde, and determined to keep out of her father’s clutches until she found her own path in life. Her father’s unscrupulous actions had stripped any vestiges of religious convictions from Alicia’s mind. She knew she would fight for freedom whatever the cost. She tried to appease her father—and get out of his way—by asking permission to marry a man she loved. When Ervil denied her request, the couple hastily left for the U.S. to live a life of their own choosing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I couldn’t help but laugh over an incident Verlan shared with me about the time when he, Joel, and Ervil were proselyting at Harold Blackmore’s home in LaVerkin, Utah. Harold was an independent polygamist who was gracious enough to give the men lodging and meals for a couple of days while they preached their claims of superior priesthood.

  One morning, Ervil told Harold, “I’ve got something very confidential to tell you.”

  Blackmore asked, “Oh? What is it?”

  Ervil wanted to get Harold alone to assert his personal authority, so he put his arm around Harold to make him feel special, as he often did with those he tried to manipulate, urging him outside to speak in private. Harold resisted, “Just spill it out for everyone, we’re not keeping any secrets here.”

  Ervil reluctantly complied, taking a serious tone. “An angel appeared to me last night and told me that you should join us—consecrate your life and your possessions to the work of God.”

  Joel and Verlan were surprised that Ervil was so blunt. Harold asked Ervil, “Was that angel crippled?”

  “No,” Ervil answered.

  “Then why didn’t he have enough sense,” Harold quipped, “to just come in the next room and tell me himself?”

  For once, Ervil had no answer. As for Harold, it was the end of his hospitality.

  I found this terribly funny but didn’t fully understand why until years later. It illustrates the fatal flaw in religious fundamentalism. It’s one thing to claim that God talks to you. It’s another to claim that God talks to you for other people, that your revelations apply to them. If “God is no respecter of persons,” then God can talk to anyone directly, without an intercessor. But Ervil was determined to convince everyone that his revelations applied to them. (Aspects of my account are cited in another version of the story, Prophet of Blood, p. 92.)

  Roy Wooley, from Ogden, Utah, was a new convert to Joel’s church. He invited Verlan and me to stay at his home while Verlan did missionary work, hoping to convert some of Roy’s friends. Verlan had gone to Salt Lake City for two days and left me alone at the Wooleys. Roy, hi
s wife, and four children were seated at the dinner table with me when Dan Jordan and Ervil dropped in. Roy’s wife, Evelyn, invited the men to join us for dinner.

  Dan and Ervil had barely sat down when Ervil blurted out that the Catholic Knights of Columbus were out to kill them. Dan nodded in agreement. Ervil went on to say that they had been pursued through Mexico and into Ogden. He confidently claimed there was a conspiracy to kill him to thwart the will of God.

  Apparently, when they were sleeping at a YMCA, Dan’s pistol somehow accidentally had gone off. Both men had jumped to their feet and fled.

  The longer Ervil talked, the more skeptical I became. His stories weren’t ringing true, and I could see he was exaggerating his importance and being paranoid. I sensed his account was the product of his vivid imagination and his deep longing to be somebody. He claimed that as he was God’s anointed, Satan was out to destroy him, making it impossible for him to set up the Kingdom of God.

  While we were eating and listening to Ervil’s rhetoric, someone rang the doorbell. Both Dan and Ervil leaped up from the table, knocking over plates and Dan’s chair. They made no effort to be quiet as they stampeded to the basement to hide. We all knew that whoever was on the other side of the door had heard the scuffle, and the Wooleys looked quite embarrassed even before the two men disappeared down the stairs.

  Roy got up to open the door; it was his bishop from the LDS Church. Roy and Evelyn invited him into the living room while the children and I finished dinner. Feeling extremely awkward, Roy searched for words but couldn’t come up with an explanation for what the bishop had heard. Finally breaking the uncomfortable silence, Roy admitted to the bishop that he had joined Joel’s church, and he requested that his name be stricken from the LDS Church’s records.

  Dan and Ervil spent the following two days hiding in the Wooleys’ basement, even demanding that Evelyn bring their meals downstairs. They still believed the Knights of Columbus or the Masons were trying to kill them.

  When Verlan phoned me, he related his plans to continue to preach for a few more days. I knew he had enough family problems, but I felt compelled to inform him that I thought Ervil had lost a few of his marbles. I was embarrassed and disappointed that our new members had witnessed Ervil’s paranoia, so I told Verlan I felt Ervil would do more harm than good in the mission field. I thought he should be sent back to Mexico.

  After Verlan returned from visiting with Ervil, he was mad at me for even insinuating that Ervil had any mental problems. Months later, however, he apologized to me. He was beginning to see for himself Ervil’s determination and hunger for power. He could see that Ervil had become a law unto himself, and Verlan wondered what would eventually happen. Looking back on their childhood, he recalled how Ervil had always called the shots. He had flaunted his superiority to his siblings, always demanding they be subservient to him. Verlan’s hopes for a united church and the fulfillment of their father’s dream—that his boys would rule the world and prepare for Christ’s return—were slowly and steadily eroding.

  WHILE VERLAN WAS EXPERIENCING this disappointment, his brother Ben was bringing unwanted attention to the family name. When the news of Ben reached him, Verlan was humiliated. Here the LeBarons were trying to convince the world of Joel’s coveted position as the foretold One Mighty and Strong, yet Ben was undermining the authenticity of Joel’s claim by writing a testimony about his own divine authority to my uncle Rulon. On July 5, 1962, Ben attested in a letter:

  Dear Brother Allred,

  I am the Prophet Mighty and Strong . . . I am King of Kings today . . . I am God, the third; the Holy Ghost; or the third member of the Trinity since Adam went to Mars nearly 300 years ago, leaving Jesus and Joseph Smith and myself in charge. Jesus was killed for saying he was the Son of God. Joseph Smith was killed for inferring that he was one of the Trinity.

  I was killed for the same reason—but an angel of God has raised me from the dead and I stand truthful in all things . . .

  I will be translated as were Enoch, Moses, and Elijah. I am the Lord’s anointed and hold the scepter of power. Moroni was not as great as I am, and neither is [LDS President] McKay . . .

  Ervil is King of Israel . . .

  Take two more wives thus saith the Lord.

  Ben T. LeBaron (The LeBaron Story, p. 61)

  Verlan was mortified when the contents of Ben’s insane letter circulated throughout “Zion” (Utah). Verlan saw it as just one more blow against the LeBarons, who were already stigmatized. LDS in the Mormon colonies, and even other fundamentalist groups, already thought the LeBarons were wacko. Lucinda was in a mental institution, as Ben had been on several occasions. Alma and Ervil had denounced LDS Mormonism and were known as “apostates.” So now people would judge the new church as even stranger due to Ben’s letter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Moans of dissatisfaction rang through the congregation. Ervil had just announced there would be no Christmas celebration ever again. Instead, we would celebrate Joseph Smith’s birthday on December 23. He warned the group that he would not tolerate a Christmas tree or decorations displayed in anyone’s home. He spent half an hour informing the less knowledgeable about Christmas being a pagan holiday, and that Jesus’ birthday was really on the 6th of April.

  After the meeting, several of my friends complained. “Christmas is the best time of year. Everybody has vacations from school and work. People travel across the country to spend time celebrating with their families. We need that, especially with our husbands away working so much of the time.” Even more, the women felt appalled that Ervil would discredit Jesus. The whole world celebrated his birth, so why not us?

  I thought Ervil had gone too far. We were so poor. The children never had any toys or gifts other than at Christmas, and even then the presents were meager. For Ervil to deny us that one small joy seemed cruel and mean-spirited. Besides, I knew Verlan would be upset when he heard the news; he absolutely loved Christmas and doing something special for his children.

  Seeing our disappointment, Ervil tried to counteract it by excitedly depicting the wonderful birthday party we could have for Joseph Smith, the founder of the Mormon Church. Ervil felt Joseph Smith deserved the glory and praise for restoring the everlasting gospel. We would have a potluck at the church every December 23 and sing praises, giving honor to this great prophet.

  Verlan returned home in time for the birthday party. Appalled by Ervil’s ridiculous order, Verlan felt that Jesus Christ should be honored, and, besides, he had arrived home with many used toys for the children. He was prepared to celebrate Christmas! So, despite Ervil’s order, Verlan observed Christmas in our home. Although we didn’t have a tree or any decorations, we celebrated with a feast of popcorn balls, molasses candy, peanuts, oranges, and cinnamon rolls.

  Ervil chastised Verlan the following day, but Verlan let him know that he had no right to tell him what he could or couldn’t do with his own family.

  The wedge between the brothers widened.

  ERVIL SEEMED TO HAVE SET his sights on every young female in town. As if fourteen-year-old Kristina and fifteen-year-old Debbie weren’t enough to satisfy his sexual cravings, he desired fourteen-year-old Susan Ray, who had promised to marry Verlan. Sneaking behind Verlan’s back, Ervil sent Anna Mae to the church’s private school to sign Susan out, giving the excuse that Ervil needed a private audience with her, so she had to comply.

  Unbeknownst to her parents, Ervil was lying in his bed, with Susan seated in a chair next to him, where he attempted to brainwash her. “It’s God’s will that you marry me! You can marry my brother Verlan if you want, but the Lord told me to warn you, if you want a greater glory, you must marry me.”

  Susan had been infatuated with Verlan for six months and had her father’s permission to marry as soon as she turned fifteen in October. Ervil knew if he didn’t act fast that she would proceed with her plans.

  “Why does God say I have to marry you?” she asked, pouting.

  Ervil smiled cunn
ingly, hoping to ease the pressure a bit. “You don’t have to marry me. God is definitely giving you a choice, but . . . like I say, Verlan is the lesser choice. Don’t you want to do what God thinks is best for you?”

  Innocent Susan found herself unprotected in Ervil’s arms, fighting off his advances. Even his bad breath repulsed her. She knew Ervil had crossed the line. She broke away and refused to answer his summons again.

  Verlan never gave much validity to others’ complaints of Ervil’s cunning practices, but when he was the victim, he could ignore his brother no longer. His own flesh and blood was undermining him, sneaking around in an attempt to steal his promised bride. Verlan was furious.

  He burst into Ervil’s bedroom uninvited and had it out with his brother. After a short time, though, Verlan walked out. He couldn’t bear to listen to Ervil’s absurdities for another moment. He wondered how Ervil could use God in every other sentence to his own advantage. Once again he questioned Ervil’s sanity.

  A forgiving man, Verlan returned after his marriage and honeymoon with Susan, hoping to make amends when he ran into Ervil. He offered his hand, but Ervil refused it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  My niece Jenny Lou, Wesley’s daughter, was turning fifteen, and I knew Ervil had brainwashed her into marrying a man twenty-five years her senior just after her birthday.

  I loved hanging out with her and the other young teens, and I often invited them to gather in my home to play board games and eat dessert.

  Since I knew Jenny Lou would soon leave the teenagers’ group and be initiated into the adult community, I decided to give her a surprise birthday party. I sent one of Jenny Lou’s friends from house to house, inviting those in her age group to come to my home at seven thirty that night.