by Pete Earley
“I stood there in dead silence for what seemed like an eternity, and then after a while, Jeffrey stood up and said, ‘It is time for our lesson,’ and everyone opened their books. I realized that I had reached absolutely no one.”
When the class ended, Luffman marched up to Jeffrey. “This is the last time you are teaching in this church. Your class is finished.” Luffman was personally disbanding Jeffrey’s class. Jeffrey was usurping the power of the local church to choose its own teachers. As stake president, Luffman was recognized under Ohio law as the legal representative for the Kirtland church and if he was forced to physically bar Jeffrey from teaching by calling in the police, he was pre· pared to do so. Luffman had had enough.
Jeffrey didn’t show up the next Sunday. Neither did members of his group. Luffman felt good. He had finally won a battle with Jeffrey. At least that is what he thought. “The next week, I noticed a whole lot of folks on Sunday morning going down the street into the home of a fundamentalist member,” Luffman recalled. “After a couple weeks of this, I spotted Jeffrey walking over there too.”
Jeffrey was still teaching. He’d simply moved his class into the living room of one of his supporters.
Now it was Jeffrey’s turn to fight back. He ordered the members of his group to begin withdrawing their memberships from the RLDS church. “Every time Luffman baptized someone and added a name to the church rolls,” he recalled, “I had one of my people resign. That way, Luffman could never get ahead.” Richard, Danny, Sharon, Greg, the Patricks, and the Averys all played along. Luff· man seethed.
In early August, Kevin Currie knocked on Jeffrey’s front door. He was homesick, he told Jeffrey, and wanted to move back in with them. Jeffrey said it was okay, but as punishment, he made Kevin sleep for one week in the basement. Later, he joked, “I’m gaining more followers than Luffman.”
If anything, Jeffrey’s confrontations with Luffman made him more cocky, and less cautious. One afternoon in late August, Jeffrey was giving a youth group a tour. As usual, he mentioned the pattern and how it could be found in anything that God made or said. One of the adult leaders asked if Jeffrey had found it in the Doctrine and Covenants. Without thinking, Jeffrey replied that he had found it in all of Joseph Smith, Jr. ‘s revelations, but not in some of the more recent ones. Which ones? the visitor asked. Jeffrey said that Section 156, the 1984 declaration that allowed women to join the priest· hood, was not chiastic and, therefore, was “man’s word, not God’s.”
Eleanor Lord was helping Jeffrey give the tour and when she heard what he said, she knew he had made a big mistake. In effect, Jeffrey had just called the church’s President-Prophet Wallace B. Smith a fraud.
“You really blew it, Jeff,” she said after the tour. “Instead of hedging your bets and telling that man to determine for himself whether or not the pattern was in the Doctrine and Covenants, you had to give them your answer.”
Eleanor explained that the adult sponsor who had questioned Jeffrey was a high priest in the church, one of the loftiest positions, and an obvious supporter of Wallace B. Smith.
“Jeffrey was stunned and afraid,” Eleanor recalled later. “He hadn’t realized until then exactly what he had done.”
At the very minute that Eleanor was criticizing Jeffrey, the high priest was storming across the street to see Dale Luffman.
“Who is this Jeffrey Lundgren?” the high priest asked.
“Confidentially, he’s a guy I’ve got a lot of problems with and I’d like to hang his butt and get him out of here,” Luffman replied.
The priest told Luffman what Jeffrey had said during the tour. Luffman got excited. “Would you do me and the church a big favor?” he asked. “Write down word for word exactly what happened and give me a copy.” Luffman said he would make certain that reports of the incident would be sent to Jeffrey’s boss and also Wallace B. Smith.
“You bet I will,” the high priest replied.
A few days later, Bill Lord received a letter from church officials in Independence. It said there were too many full-time guides at the visitors’ center and that Jeffrey should be fired. The letter made Bill Lord angry. “I didn’t hire Jeffrey,” he told Eleanor. The director of historic sites had hired Jeffrey. Bill sent word back to Independence. If the church wanted Jeffrey fired, then the director who hired him was going to have to get rid of him. No one in Independence did anything.
Luffman became frustrated. “No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get rid of this guy.”
And then Luffman’s luck changed. A church official, who was completely unaware of the dispute over Jeffrey, happened to notice that contributions to the Kirtland temple and sales at the visitors’ center had plummeted to an all-time low. The church ordered an audit. “Over the period of time that Jeff Lundgren had been assigned the task of taking care of the financial records [two and a half years], the church calculated that he had extracted out of the till between seventeen and twenty-one thousand dollars,” Luffman later said.
Although the church was certain Jeffrey had stolen the money, it didn’t have any evidence. A church official was sent to Kirtland to confront Jeffrey. The two men made a deal. Jeffrey would resign as a temple guide. In return, the church would permit him to continue working one more month and would let him stay in his church- provided house rent-free until he found somewhere to move. The church also promised to keep quiet about the missing money.
Because the accusations against Jeffrey were dealt with in such a hush-hush fashion, Bill Lord wasn’t told the real reason why Jeffrey was being forced to resign. He incorrectly believed that Jeffrey was being ousted because of his controversial teachings. Consequently, Lord left Jeffrey in charge of collecting donations to the temple and tallying the cash register receipts at the visitors’ center, a move that even Jeffrey found to be incredible.
Jeffrey moved quickly to protect his reputation. He called everyone in his group together and explained that the church was kicking him out because, as he put it, “I am preaching the truth.
“Whenever a prophet begins to prophesy,” Jeffrey explained, “the people turn against him. The scriptures say that prophets are ‘cast out.’ That is happening now. I am being ‘cast out’ of the temple. I have been told to resign.”
It didn’t take Jeffrey long to come up with a new scheme. Jeffrey wanted to form a commune. He and his group would create their own Zion. Jeffrey began calling realtors. A few days later, Stanley Skrbis called. Skrbis owned a five-bedroom farmhouse on a 15.07- acre tract on the southern edge of Kirtland. A t one time, it had been a beautiful apple orchard with a comfortable two-story farmhouse and picturesque red barn. But the trees had been neglected and the house and barn were in bad need of repair. Skrbis was willing to rent it cheap—the entire acreage for $650 per month—if Jeffrey would fix up the property.
“This is just what I want,” Jeffrey announced. Later that night, he called everyone together and explained what he had in mind. They would pool their money and rent the Skrbis property. They would repair the house and barn and work to make the apple orchard productive. Over time, they would open the barn as a combination crafts and antiques store. Jeffrey and Alice would buy and sell the antiques. Group members would provide homemade crafts. They would sell quilts, handicrafts, even homemade apple cider and apple pies. Eventually, they would buy the farm and become so prosperous that none of them would have to work anywhere else. They would wait on the farm for Christ to return.
The longer Jeffrey talked about the commune, the grander the expectations became. He even had a name picked out for the antiques business: Kristen’s Kupboard, after his daughter and favorite child. By the time the class ended around midnight, everyone was enthused. “This is going to be just wonderful,” Alice declared.
In mid-September, Shar Olson arrived in Kirtland to visit Richard and Greg. During the weekend visit, Jeffrey fussed over Shar. He told her about the pattern and how the group was moving to the farm. “I felt that I was being called to go,” she
said. Privately, Jeffrey also assured her that he could find the name of her “true companion” in the scriptures. Shar hurried back to Independence, quit her job, and moved to Kirtland. She moved in with Sharon.
Jeffrey also contacted Ron and Susie Luff and invited them to move to Kirtland. Ron had been writing Jeffrey letters since May when the Luffs first met him during a temple tour, and the Luffs were convinced that Jeffrey was someone special. Ron quit his job at the James River Power Station in Springfield, Missouri, listing his reason for leaving as: “desired relocation and church work.” He and Susie, along with their two small children, Matthew and Amy, arrived in Kirtland during September. Jeffrey sent them to stay in Greg’s apartment.
As soon as Jeffrey paid the first month’s rent on the Skrbis farmhouse, he and his followers went to work. They hauled away trash, gutted the interior, hung Sheetrock, painted, papered, cleaned, and polished. Within two weeks the rickety farmhouse was a showplace. By late September, it was ready. Jeffrey announced that Kevin, Richard, Shar, Danny, and Sharon would live with his family in the farmhouse. The Patricks, Averys, and Luffs would live in their own apartments but would still be required to financially support the commune. Greg had been invited to live at the farm, but had decided to keep his apartment.
Bill Lord would later recall that Jeffrey’s last day at work as a temple tour guide fell on a Saturday. Even though he was being forced to resign, Jeffrey gave several tours that morning and seemed as enthused as ever when he talked about the temple. When it was time to close the visitors’ center, Jeffrey emptied the cash register, tallied that week’s receipts—some $1,600—and put the money into a bank bag for the last time. He told Bill that he would deposit it, as usual, that afternoon.
“Jeffrey was upset about being fired,” recalled Eleanor. “He and Alice both were. They felt abused and picked on, but in their hearts, I think they knew better.” It was a tearful time for the Lords. Despite the problems, they both adored Alice and genuinely liked Jeffrey.
The next Monday, Bill went over early to open the visitors’ center. Within minutes after he had unlocked the front door, Jeffrey burst in. He had bad news. On Saturday, he had stopped at the post office before taking the temple’s $1,600 to the bank. “I left the money bag on the front seat of my car when I went inside and must have accidentally left the doors unlocked,” he told Bill. “When I came back, someone had taken it.”
“Did you report it to the police?” asked Bill.
“I didn’t think it would do any good,” Jeffrey replied. “I’m sure the thief is long gone.”
Bill simply nodded his head.
Chapter 28
LIFE on the farm seemed wonderful—at least to Shar Olson. “I felt a real sense of belonging,” she later remembered. “It began when we fixed up the house.” For two weeks everyone worked side by side. “We’d get off work, meet at the farm, and begin knocking down walls. We’d work until we dropped. Jeff would go buy us a bucket of chicken and we’d sit on the floor covered with plaster and eat and laugh and talk about how we were going to make this all work and how we were going to bring about Zion. I really felt like we were becoming a family. “
That was something Shar craved in the fall of 1987. By her own account, she felt lonely. Born less than a mile from RLDS headquarters in Independence, Shar was the youngest of three children and an only daughter. “I was a daddy’s girl and I loved it,” she said. “I thought we had a perfect family.” When Shar was eleven, her parents divorced. “I remember lying in bed at night listening to them argue.” After her parents separated, Shar and her mom became best friends, and the church became central to their lives. “I went through all the girls’ groups. I started in Skylarks, the RLDS version of Brownies, and moved up through the various programs.” She spent six weeks each summer in church camps, rarely missed a Sunday service, prayer meeting, youth group. She grew up inside an RLDS cocoon, thinking everyone believed in the Book of Mormon. She found out otherwise when she went to a Baptist-affiliated college for one year. “Everyone kept asking me if I was saved.” She stuck out, felt out of place.
Her father had remarried so Shar went to live with him for a few months in New Orleans. She felt just as awkward in that sultry city as she had at college. Shar returned to the center spot. She was a beautiful girl with straight blond hair that dangled to her waist, an attractive figure, an effervescent personality. Worlds of Fun amusement park hired her to work as a character escort. She guided a fellow employee dressed in an animal costume through the amusement park where they posed for photographs with children. Shar became reacquainted with Greg Winship at an RLDS meeting of young adults. He introduced her to Richard. A short time later, Shar’s mother married Greg’s uncle. “The church had always been the one part of my life that was rock solid,” she later recalled. In 1984 that changed. Shar was in the RLDS auditorium when delegates approved the ordination of women into the priesthood. She burst into tears. “It seemed like all the foundations that I had grown up with were crumbling.” Shar’s mother moved to Texas. Richard and Greg went to Ohio. Following her pals to Kirtland seemed natural.
At the farm, Shar began calling Jeffrey and Alice “Dad” and “Mom.” It fit. “Alice was motherly.” Each night, Alice would rub lotion on Shar’s feet because she had dry skin.
“Shar liked to get attention,” recalled Jeffrey. “I would be sitting on the couch with my daughter Krissy curled up next to me and Shar would come over and curl up on my other side. It wasn’t sexual. She just wanted someone to love her.”
Late one night after the group moved to the farm, Shar knocked on the door of the Lundgrens’ bedroom. Jeffrey and Alice were watching television. She sat on the edge of their bed.
“Mom and Dad, I need to know something,” she said. She and Danny had been spending a lot of time together. Shar wanted to know if that was okay. “I don’t want to get involved if he’s not my true companion.”
Alice began to giggle. “I was hoping you two would hit it off!” she exclaimed.
“It’s okay for you two to spend time together,” added Jeffrey.
The next morning, Shar asked Alice if Danny was the one.
“I can’t say,” Alice replied. “Only a prophet can answer that.”
“So, like do we know any prophets?” Shar replied innocently.
Alice looked directly at Shar. “Do you?” Alice asked.
“Do I?” Shar replied, confused.
“I guess you will have to figure that out for yourself,” Alice replied.
“That is when I first realized that Alice thought Jeff was a prophet,” Shar said later. “She was really pushing that idea. She wanted to be a prophet’s wife.”
That night during scripture class, Jeffrey told Danny and Shar to sit next to each other. Although Shar didn’t know it, Jeffrey had told Danny before she arrived in Kirtland that the next woman to join the group was his companion. Danny was pleased. He had quickly fallen in love with Shar.
Ron and Susie were also happy about their move to Kirtland. Like Shar, they had become disenchanted with the liberalization of the RLDS. Both of them considered themselves spiritually gifted. Ron, who was twenty-seven, had written a book of inspirational poetry. Susie felt she had the gift of prophecy. Jeffrey hadn’t liked either of them when they met. “When they first started writing me, they would tell me all this spiritual nonsense,” he said, “so I would write back these horrible letters and really chastise them. I thought I’d never hear from them again, but they would always write back and tell me that what I had written had been right. It was like they were saying ‘Hit me! Oh, hit me more! I deserved that.”’
Ron had grown up in Independence, where he had been a weight lifter and football star at Harry Truman High School. After graduating in 1978, he had joined the navy. He had started dating Susan Edson, who was a year older and had also grown up in Independence, during a trip home. They were married February 7, 1981, by Ron’s father, an RLDS priesthood member. Like Jeffrey, Ron had a
weight lifter’s build with broad shoulders and thick arms. Susie was slender and a nonstop talker.
“Like most of the others,” Jeffrey said, “Ron and Susie came because they wanted me to give them something. They felt I could take them to see Christ.”
At the farm, Jeffrey held scripture classes every night. Everyone but the Averys was required to attend. “The classes were basically to reestablish and reaffirm very strongly in our minds that there was such a thing as the pattern and that the pattern was true,” Ron later told federal investigators. “The basic precept was that if you used the pattern you could not err, you absolutely could not flaw.” Once the group accepted that precept, Jeffrey moved to the next step. “Ultimately, anyone who believed in the pattern also came to believe in the seer who brought it forth,” recalled Ron. “And since the pattern could not err, they came to believe that the seer could not err either.”
In short, Jeffrey was infallible.
Most classes lasted two or three hours, unless someone made a mistake. “Then there would be a ‘session’ time,” said Ron, and “sometimes those would get to be real loud discussions and they would lead to the early hours of the morning, sometimes three or four o’clock.”
The word “session” was a reference that Jeffrey originally had used when disciplining his children. Damon was rather meek, but Jason, then thirteen, was stubborn. “It would take ten or fifteen licks before he finally gave in. I called them a session because they took so long.”