Prophet's Prey

by Sam Brower

  According to the Priesthood Record, the two men had a private meeting in which Warren swore to follow Fred “if the Lord wants you to lead.” Fred answered that God had given him no such instruction, but that he had somehow seen a vision of “Uncle Louis.”

  That would be Louis Barlow, the patriarch of a large and influential family in the Crick. This “vision” was unsettling news for Warren, who wanted to hear Uncle Fred declare undying support for him. Fred, in his nineties, probably just wanted to spend his last years in peace, not in a religious gang war. Under pressure, and knowing that he was no match for the conniving favorite son of the dead prophet, Fred wavered and promised to submit to whoever the Lord chose. Given my experience, I can imagine that the old pioneer was wise enough to realize that going up against Warren’s ruthless ambitions would end up in a public bloodletting in which he would likely lose everything at a very vulnerable time in his life. Warren silently put old Louis Barlow on his private list of enemies to be dealt with at some future time.

  Just putting Uncle Fred in his place was not going to be enough to persuade everyone to follow along. Warren needed witnesses if he was to cement his power play.

  Although he did not trust her, Warren brought Mother Mary, Rulon’s former wife and nurse who knew all of the secrets, to the pulpit during a meeting. She had been at the dying prophet’s bedside night and day and had witnessed all the details of Rulon’s last moments in mortality. Now totally dependent upon Warren for her existence, Mary dutifully testified that the prophet had indeed expressed a fervent wish that Warren follow him as the next leader. Women, however, have no standing in the FLDS, which weakened her testimony substantially, and the old-timers were grumbling that there was no priesthood authority to testify of Rulon’s last wishes. Warren needed the backing of a priesthood man.

  His brother Isaac assumed that task, and in the future, he would be richly rewarded for his choice. Isaac stepped forward and announced that all the way back in August of 2001, he had heard Rulon speak about Warren during a meeting, saying “The finger of the Lord is pointing to this man.” Isaac further testified that as they drove home on that eventful day, he had heard Rulon tell Warren several times, “I want you to accept the presidency of this church to take my place.” Isaac did not stop there. He emphasized that Rulon had repeated his decision about thirty times on that one day. Even when his wives and Isaac helped the prophet to the bathroom, the old man had closed his eyes, bowed his head, then looked at the wall and declared, “Warren is going to be the next leader of this people.” Back in his bed, he said it again and again.

  During the crucial weeks after the death of Rulon, Warren would repeatedly cite Isaac’s testimony to justify his claim of FLDS leadership. He was careful not to mention that his brother’s remarks as a witness had not surfaced until after the old man was dead. No one seemed to recall that during the time Rulon allegedly made the important comments, Warren had stated that Rulon had the mind of a child. It had been obvious to those close to him that Rulon often hadn’t even known what day it was, so perhaps he would have found it difficult to express opinions on intricate church matters. Rulon never wrote down his wishes designating a legal successor to follow him as president of the FLDS church.

  Because there were no rules for succession within the FLDS, the combination of questionable personal testimonies from Isaac and Mary, plus the nod of the cowed Uncle Fred, had to be good enough, and Warren named himself the new prophet, seer and revelator. It wasn’t in writing, but that, too, was about to be remedied.

  The only real problem left was the uneasy situation in Canada, where the decision to fire Winston Blackmore as bishop had caused a deep split. Some strain had always existed between the FLDS groups in Canada and the United States. Despite mutual claims of friendship, those living in the Crick believed the Canadians were much too lax in discipline. The Canadians felt the Americans were much too rigid. As long as the friendship existed between the late Uncle Rulon and Winston Blackmore, differences could usually be worked out. Not so with Warren at the helm.

  As a private investigator, I am always on the lookout for possible sources of information, so I contacted Blackmore by telephone in 2004 and introduced myself, and, to my surprise, he agreed to speak with me. I found him to be an affable man who could communicate easily with people in the outside world, while still maintaining his strong unconventional beliefs in polygamy. A key difference between Winston and the FLDS brand of polygamy was that he no longer condoned the practice of underage marriage. Although admitting to having taken at least two underage brides while still a member of the FLDS church, he said that he had come to the realization that the practice was wrong and illegal, and he would never promote, condone, or participate in the practice again. In the months to come, Blackmore and I would have numerous intense discussions about polygamy and the differences between his fundamentalist and my equally strong mainstream Mormon beliefs. Fortunately, I did not have to agree with his views, nor he with mine, in order to establish a rapport and talk openly about issues that might be beneficial to my investigation. My job was not to convert him; he was a source who willingly opened a window for me into the hierarchy of the FLDS. He became a knowledgeable guide into the intricacies of his fundamentalist religion, which he never abandoned, and of the dark side of the FLDS religion, which he had abandoned.

  He told me about his basic disagreement with Warren. “One of the most frequent questions asked is about a power struggle between me and Warren,” Blackmore said. “Now I don’t know what that is, but I will tell you about my own struggle. I had to struggle when I was told that there was not enough time left to help anyone repent. I struggled when I saw men who had been restored and forgiven in the days of Uncle Roy and Uncle Rulon, and now have their families swept away from them and their homes given to another. I struggled when I saw men’s wages given to the church, and then see their boss go buy a new Lexus. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t struggle trying to believe there could be anything ‘Mormon’ about what was happening.”

  Blackmore said that he had come to dread being summoned down to Short Creek by church leaders, because he never knew in advance if the purpose was to sign some business document, have a meeting with Warren, simply to visit Rulon, or to marry another wife. “I’m telling you, it is a not a good feeling thinking that you may be coming home with some young girl,” Blackmore observed. “A lot of people think it’s about having sex with a new girl, and maybe for some people it may be, but the reality of it is, there’s nothing pleasurable about it.” A new young bride meant disruption of the status quo of the household, more in-laws with whom to deal, and an added financial burden. Winston Blackmore had developed a more pragmatic view of polygamy, and of life. My personal views of whether or not Winston was being forthright with me concerning his change of heart regarding child abuse were only relevant to me with respect to his credibility. If I were to have found out he was lying to me (which I have not), I would still have maintained a relationship with Winston, because that is my job. When I make contact with a junkie that is willing to share with me his experiences and provide me with information that will be beneficial to my case, I do not refuse to speak with him if I find out that he is shooting heroin. Winston helped me to gain a more complete understanding of the dark side of the FLDS church and its leaders, and for that I remain grateful.

  After being dismissed by Rulon during the Warren-coached telephone call, Blackmore was replaced as the bishop of Bountiful by a quiet and obscure mechanic named Jim Oler, a staunch Warren loyalist. About half of the membership stopped following Blackmore, or listening to his sermons, and followed Warren’s substitute, Oler. The rest stuck by the defrocked Blackmore. Winston’s wives ignored Jeffs’s warning to either leave Blackmore or be doomed to hell and never see their families again.

  It was a typical FLDS schism, dissidents within dissidents. Blackmore remained in the Bountiful area as the minister of his own congregation and provided a safe haven for peop
le who had run-ins with Warren. One of their few alternatives was to get to Canada and seek solace from Uncle Wink.

  Warren Jeffs would always remain angry with the continuing influence of Blackmore, regarding it as a poison. An “uprising of bad feelings started in Canada and [it was] filtering through the people,” he would repeatedly state. Blackmore no longer presented a true threat as a political rival, but that did not mean he was not dangerous in other significant ways; in contrast with Warren’s maniacal hatred of the law, Winston Blackmore chose to cooperate smoothly with a number of law enforcement agencies, including the FBI.

  CHAPTER 15

  Predator

  Fifteen months would pass between the time that Warren Jeffs took over the FLDS and the time I first set foot into his private world with my initial visit to Short Creek to meet Ross Chatwin. That interval seemed to close fast.

  Over the years I would spend investigating him and his church, I became fascinated by his strange behavior, particularly during that transformational period after his father’s strokes. I am not a psychologist, so I pulled out my old college texts and talked to some professionals to satisfy my curiosity about how this man, once he obtained unlimited authority and power within his religion, had changed from a quiet behind-the-scenes manipulator into a runaway, destructive locomotive.

  Warren Jeffs possessed all the outward signs and symptoms of narcissistic personality disorder, but narcissism was the lesser of deeper and more frightening emotional problems. I have dealt with many sociopathic criminals over the course of my career, and I can say that Warren was a sociopath too. He is unable to emotionally bond with people, and with his own feelings paramount, he feels none of the pain he inflicts on others.

  His feigned love for God and his fellow man were a means to an end, something that he fabricated to gain the trust of his victims and maintain his guise as a man of God. The pain and struggles of other people seemed to bring him great pleasure, and watching his gullible followers willingly suffer at his command gave him a short-lived rush. I would never cease being amazed at the depths of his depravity.

  As the FLDS case expanded before me over time, and evidence mounted concerning the behavior of Warren Jeffs, I began to view him as an evil sexual predator who took satisfaction at exercising power not only over children, but anyone under his control.

  To the narcissistic sociopath, a sexual experience is not about sex; it’s about having complete control over his victims. They satisfy their sick compulsions by preying on vulnerable victims who they feel can most easily be manipulated and are least likely to expose their crimes.

  Warren needed the FLDS even more than the rebel religion needed a leader. His specialized psychosis was dependent on a unique religious hook that just would not work in the general population. In the outside world, he would never have been able to convince anyone to take him seriously. But with the FLDS predilection for blind religious obedience and submission to authority, he had the willing, captive audience that he needed, like a scientist needs lab rats. They believed everything he said and would do whatever he wanted.

  Add to that volatile mixture another insidious mental illness for which there is a treatment, but no cure: schizophrenia. It was well known within the FLDS community that some members of the Steed family, the line from Warren’s mother, had suffered from the disease. It was not uncommon for voices, which Warren would claim were heavenly beings, to interrupt sermons or meetings. It is highly probable that Warren had picked up the family trait. As the boy grew up, he appeared to be constantly teetering on the brink of either genius or insanity. When he became a man of great power, he also became increasingly irrational. Out of this brew of compounded mental illnesses grew a bizarre phenomenon that Warren termed “heavenly sessions,” in which he claimed to commune directly with God, and also with his dead father—sometimes being transformed into a heavenly being himself!

  Many members of the flock also would come to believe that Uncle Warren could actually undergo a transformation that allowed him to literally walk and talk with God in the flesh, and then resume his mortal form.

  These sessions could strike at any time, whether he was resting in bed or just reaching for a doorknob. He would collapse into a trance-like fit of quivering and mumbling and regularly miss scheduled meetings, or excuse himself from other people because he could feel a heavenly session coming on. It might pass like a gentle rain shower, or he might go storming on for hours, apparently sound asleep but contorting like a dervish.

  When he awakened from a trance, Warren would pass along what he had learned from the Lord in his usual droning, unemotional voice. The recipients of the edicts would therefore receive very bad news in the belief that it was a wrathful God, and not their kind and loving Uncle Warren, who was dispensing it. Instructions revealed to him by the Almighty during these sessions were nonnegotiable.

  I spent much of the early summer of 2004 trying to break through the FLDS code of silence, their strong self-imposed shield of secrecy that kept the rest of the world at bay. I had to throw a very wide net and not rely just upon the apostates in Short Creek, because I didn’t want to take the chance that their viewpoint might color my conclusions.

  Through my independent sources, cops and law enforcement personnel in Utah and Arizona, I was able to find people in outlying communities, so I drove out to see them, looking for insights into the FLDS culture. Even out in the boondocks, the men would suddenly develop amnesia when I approached. Some may have taken young brides themselves, or have been part of some questionable FLDS business scheme in the past, but the main problem was that they believed their salvation would be in jeopardy if they communicated with me, and they were petrified of Warren Jeffs. Most were curious about who I was and what I was doing but did not want to take the chance of having anything to do with me.

  I also started talking with merchants and contractors who hired FLDS members, and even they knew little about the people with whom they did business. The church guys would bring their own lunches, stay to themselves, and appoint one member of their group to communicate with the outsiders. Medical personnel, car dealers, and home builders all told me similar stories of the icy separation they felt when dealing with the FLDS. It was even hard to gain the trust of many apostates, and I would have to win them over one at a time through keeping my word and following through on my promises.

  I was searching for people who might be potential witnesses and might be willing to travel with me up to Salt Lake City to meet with Joanne Suder, where we arranged a hotel suite in which to conduct interviews and secure affidavits about what they had experienced and knew. It took a lot of persuasion, because they were frightened about who could potentially read their statement, if they had done something wrong themselves, if a family member might chastise them, and how their leaders would react. I discovered that there were very few Ross Chatwins around, people willing to speak their minds.

  It was during that process that I first met the firebrand dissident Flora Jessop, who was more than willing to talk. Flora drove the FLDS crazy, but not without reason. As they say in the army, she had earned her stripes. She had two mothers and twenty-seven siblings when she tried to escape the religious web at the age of only thirteen. She was caught, and an apathetic judge sent her back to the family, which kept her a virtual prisoner for the next three years.

  Not only had Flora personally been persecuted and brutalized by the FLDS theocracy into which she had been born, but her sister Ruby had endured a similar ordeal. Ruby was “sealed” at the age of fourteen to her older stepbrother Haven Barlow; she was raped by him and almost bled to death before being taken to a hospital emergency room. When Ruby later tried to run away, she also was caught and eventually returned by the Utah Child Protective Services to her so-called husband, the very perpetrator she had originally accused of the horrible rape. Knowing what had happened to Ruby pushed Flora to make the decision to become a child-abuse activist.

  Flora finally broke away from her
family for good at the age of sixteen, choosing a rough life in the gentile world over spending one more minute under the thumb of the FLDS. Eventually, she got her life back in order, and today says she is not a victim, but a survivor. Flora never forgot her experiences within the intolerant church, and she remains outraged by the sense of apathy that is so often displayed by the authorities in Utah and Arizona dealing with the “plygs.”

  Detested by many in her family as well as the FLDS leadership, she did not care what they thought. She would take on anyone, anytime, to help a child in need. As a private investigator, I was happy to have her open up to me about her experiences. Her zeal might sometimes lead FLDS apologists to brand her as an over-the-top activist, but Flora had a deep well of knowledge of what the FLDS is capable of doing. In our meetings, she kept worrying that something had happened to Uncle Fred, the former bishop of Short Creek, who was missing. Flora thought that Warren had probably kidnapped and killed him, a conclusion that seemed a bit edgy at the time but would prove in the future to be eerily close to the truth.

  The idea that lightning-rod personalities such as Flora Jessop were talking to a high-powered legal team in Salt Lake City was unsettling to the FLDS church leaders, as it should have been. As we listened to those stories, we understood that we were dealing not just with child abuse, but with downright atrocities.

  Any evidence or indications of crimes that we might discover during the interviews were reported to the proper authorities, and I was working to raise the awareness of the officials and authorities involved. Politicians and law enforcement agencies are busy people and would occasionally need to be jolted into probing the ongoing atrocities within the FLDS and its hierarchy, so briefing various lawyers became another regular aspect of my job.