I took out a pen and paper and wrote a letter to my brother Marc.
In it I told him how much I missed him and loved him. I told him all about Kevin and how happy I was. I said I knew that he and Kevin would have got on really well and how much that pleased me. I also told him what a wonderful husband and father he would have been had he lived and how unfair it was that he never got the chance to fulfil all of his own dreams.
I told him about the rose garden I had begun planting for him at home. I had bought the first one not long after I moved in – a scented yellow bloom. I told him how I planned to plant one for each of his 27 years. That way I can have something to look at when I think of him, and I have created something beautiful, fragile and alive – just as he was.
I ended my letter by promising Marc I would honour his memory by living for the both of us. And that he would be in my thoughts every day for the rest of my life. He was loved and never forgotten. My inspiration for not giving up.
I took my carefully folded letter and poked it through the neck of an empty wine bottle.
When Kevin woke up I told him my plan and we took a little ferry to a nearby island. I stood on the deck, silent in my private world of grief. Once we were in the middle of the sea I whispered a prayer before tossing the bottle into the water, where it bobbed on the surface, swirling around in the swell left by the boat.
I felt Kevin come and stand behind me. The bottle bobbed once more, then disappeared beneath the waves.
I turned to my husband.
‘I never want to come here again. I want to go home.’
Epilogue
Buckinghamshire, 2014
The sun glints through my conservatory window as my cat Athena plays at my feet. My husband is in the kitchen cooking dinner. I’m tired after a long day at the office and wondering what to watch on TV tonight.
On the way home from work I went to the supermarket, and as I was loading my shopping bags in the car I burst out laughing. I couldn’t stop. I had this crazy burst of joy where I suddenly realised just how absurd it is to be so thrilled at having such an ordinary, average lifestyle. The little tasks in life that most people find boring – such as shopping for groceries or loading up the car with petrol – are things I really love because they are a sign of the normality I never imagined I’d have.
Very few people know my history. It’s not the kind of thing you can just drop into the conversation. Generally when I meet a new person my fake life story goes like this: I was born and raised in Thailand because my father worked for the French Embassy in Bangkok. Despite being French, I have a North American accent because I learned my English in international schools. I come from such a large family of siblings because my parents are old fashioned and Catholic, but we are close and all get along wonderfully.
I hate lying, but what choice do I have? How could people understand my life? I am still struggling to make sense of it myself.
The cult still exists and is known today as The Family International. They have rebranded themselves to come across as a slick, glossy international evangelical Christian organisation. Karen Zerby (Mama Maria) is still its leader, although she has changed her name by deed poll to Katherine Smith. No one knows her exact whereabouts but she’s highly visible on the Internet, writing blogs about faith. Recently I saw one she wrote about motherhood – this is the same woman whose son Davidito was driven into insanity and murder.
Sara, the author of The Story of Davidito, is allegedly still a senior member and leader of the cult. She has never been called to account for authoring the book. Her daughter Davida struggled for many years after leaving the cult, and worked as an exotic dancer in the USA. She has given several highly articulate television interviews denouncing the cult and talking about the terrible abuse she and Davidito suffered while growing up in Berg’s household. Yet the cult has dismissed poor Davida as a liar.
I don’t know what finally became of tragic Mene.
On my Bangkok honeymoon I met up with Claire, my old friend and the sister of disabled James. She told me that poor James had finally been put out of his misery and died when he was 18. He collapsed in the shower one day, unable to get up. Claire thinks he may have had a stroke but isn’t really sure. She too has since left the cult, and we remain good friends today.
The cult committed horrible crimes against children. To this day The Family have got away with it because how can victims like me ever bring legal cases against our abusers when we don’t even know their real names? I don’t know if Clay is still alive. If so, I wonder if he is haunted with guilt for the crimes he committed against me? Or does he continue to abuse children today?
A couple of years ago I discovered that when Clay had disappeared from our commune back when I was little it was because my father had him excommunicated after discovering he had abused another girl. I recall how terrified I was that Clay would come back and hurt me. If I had been told he had gone for good and why, it would have helped me so much. I might even have found my voice and spoken up about my abuse. And although excommunicating him was at least something, it didn’t punish him or stop him being free to go on and abuse other kids. He should have been reported to the police, but of course that would never have happened because protecting the cult’s reputation was all that mattered to the adult members. It mattered more to them than the lives of the children ever did. That thought disgusts me to my core.
My siblings have fared variously: some are in denial, others are angry and traumatised. Most of us have battled, or still do, with depression and anxiety. The demons are always there, like a dark cloud threatening to burst at any moment. But we try to move forward and make the most of the lives that we have built for ourselves.
Joe, the eldest, rarely talks about the years he spent in Teen Training Camp. But I have learned, mostly through other ex-members’ accounts, that it was a place filled with horrors. The youngsters at the camp were forced to do hard labour, not allowed to talk for days at a time and badly beaten. Joe stayed longer in The Family than any of us, but is out of the group today.
Matt still lives with Sienna, his long-time partner, and their three children in France. He’s still the same funny entertainer he always was, but he has a dark side too. The sarcasm and jokes are an act to cover up his pain, but he can never fool me because I see all too clearly my own anguish mirrored in his eyes.
Vincent, so misunderstood as a child and probably the victim of the worst violence, has had an ongoing battle with depression. He struggled with addictions when he was younger, but he’s truly turned his life around since. He and his husband recently moved to Cyprus, where he works in the financial services industry. I love him so very much and still try to protect him like I have always done. Earlier this year I was thinking about it all and the ways it has affected us. I started to think about Vincent and the violence they meted out to him. He hasn’t ever had counselling, partly because it can be so expensive. The thought of that made me angry, so angry that I became deeply depressed. I emailed Karen Zerby (Mama Maria), using the contact email on the now very glossy and professional-looking Family International website. I had heard they had recently set up a fund to help elderly members. So I wrote to ask why they hadn’t also set aside money to help the children they and their members abused. In my mind they should be supporting second-generation children like Vincent by paying for counselling.
This is my letter:
Dear Maria,
I am a second-generation ex-member of The Family International and I am writing to you to put in a request on behalf of my brother. I do not wish to play blame games or get into matters of the past. However, as the balanced individual I have become since I left the cult I do believe that people who made errors of judgement which resulted in people or children being abused and damaged should try to take steps to remedy the past.
My brothers and I were physically, emotionally and sexually abused during our childhood in Bangkok homes. As I said, I do not want to go into details as
it is pointless but my brother has struggled with depression as a result of the traumatic events in his childhood.
To get to the point of my email, I heard some of TFI’s fortune will be distributed to members over a certain age. I was wondering why a portion of that has not been set aside to help ex-members who need specialised counselling or psychological help to get over their past? Surely as The Family has acknowledged that some of Berg’s writings caused an environment that allowed for abuse to occur then they should have, long ago, demonstrated their desire to help those affected by that? The purpose of this email is to officially apply for funding that will allow my brother to get the help he needs so our family can stand a chance at becoming normal and avoid another tragedy as a result of the group’s doctrines.
He did not have a choice. He was born into a lifestyle that destroyed him, unlike other FGIs who joined out of choice.
Thank you for considering my request.
I waited over six months for a reply.
November 18, 2013
Dear Natacha,
We hope this finds you well and in good health. We’re sorry it has taken a while to get back to you on your letter. We were attempting to investigate the background on the situation, since we are not personally familiar with it, but we were unable to do so. As you may know, in 2010, TFI restructured, which resulted in the virtual dismantling of the communal households, the prior leadership structure, and the boards. At this time, TFI operates in many ways as a virtual network.
You didn’t mention where your brother lived, and whether he had been able to research what possibilities are available to him within the medical system of the country he is living in. If he is in England, there are public healthcare avenues open to him from what we understand, as there apparently are in a number of other EU countries. We’re not sure if there are other factors or if he has already been able to research options to receive funding for counselling or consultation with a psychologist or other professional, as you were saying he needed.
We don’t know if you have already communicated this need with your parents and whether they are able to help in researching help for your brother and we would like to suggest that this may be an option.
We are very sorry to hear that you feel that your brother was mistreated during his time growing up in The Family. We believe that every child deserves a happy and safe environment for growing up, and to this end we instituted numerous policies in the Charter and developed child protection policies. We are saddened to hear that these policies did not provide you and your brother the nurturing environment they were intended to ensure. To any Family member or former Family member who feels he or she has suffered any mistreatment of any kind, by anyone, we are truly sorry.
In 2008, TFI issued an open apology to current and former second-generation members in which leadership apologised to any second-generation member who, due to the lack of restrictions and stringent child protection policies from 1978 through the mid-1980s, was subjected to hurtful or harmful behavior of any kind (http://www.myconclusion.com/apology-to-second-generation). An apology was also published in 2009, which we encourage you to read, if you haven’t already done so. (It can be accessed here: www.myconclusion.com/category/letters-of-apology.)
We want to reiterate our heartfelt apologies to you, Natacha, and your brother for any hurt or difficulties either of you faced. We are very sorry for any pain or unhappiness you and your brother experienced during your years in The Family.
In regards to your financial request, we regret that we are not able to disburse funds from the Veteran Missionary Care fund for purposes other than that for which the fund was designated, which is for aging members. The fund is minimal and will provide a small one-time stipend for elder members. We wish that TFI had funding to assist all members and former members of all ages, but regrettably, finances are very limited and since the Reboot, with people transitioning, there is little structure or finances available. We’re truly sorry about this.
Again, please accept our apologies for this late response. Our prayers are with your brother, that he is able to find healing and closure. We wish you all the best, and hope that your life will be filled with peace and fulfillment.
Best regards,
Carol Cunningham
For TFI Public Affairs
I don’t really know what I expected. I never believed they would help, but their reply still left me staggered with its cold corporate professionalism. The public apology they refer to was half-hearted at best. The leadership didn’t admit responsibility for anything; instead they sought to blame the systematic and widespread abuse on the actions of a few rogue individuals.
Despite all that has happened to my parents they are still madly in love and very happily married. They have recently left the cult and returned to France, where they survive on a combination of state welfare and whatever seasonal work they can find.
The system that they once hated and feared is now their only ally because the cult will not help those people whom they used for decades. They devoted their entire lives to The Family but in the end it spat them out without a penny to their name. My dad is now in his late fifties and has just started looking for his first full-time job.
The younger ones missed the worst years of commune living so were not as badly affected, but they still suffer in their own ways.
My half-sister, Thérèse, is living in France with her mother, Leah, who divorced Uncle Edward. She and my parents are great friends again and visit each other regularly. Thérèse remains a quiet and reserved character. She has been to visit me in England and I’m also very happy for her that she has my father back in her life.
Andy, Chris, Louis, Laurent and Brian live at home with my parents.
I adore my younger siblings and, despite the past, I still love my parents. I have visited them a couple of times since they have moved to Europe and I am finally at peace with the past and where we are now. At times our relationship is strained, and we go through periods where communication is impossible. I sadly accept it will always be that way, and it pains me that even now the cult’s vile influence continues to cause conflict within our family.
And I do still have many unanswered questions for my mother and father.
I find it difficult to understand how they and thousands of other adults were brainwashed so severely that they could not see the perverse sexual doctrines and behaviours of their leaders. How on earth could their dedication to the cult be so deep for them to put their loyalty to it above the well-being of their own children? I look back with absolute horror at their absences in our early years and the cold emotional rejection they showed my brothers and me when we left the group.
A few years ago I asked my father if he regretted the past. He told me he did regret going on a ‘spiritual journey with small children in tow’ because he could see now that it was selfish. But strangely he couldn’t yet express regret for himself or recognise himself as a victim of the cult.
I also asked him if he had his time over whether he’d choose to do it all again. He said he couldn’t go there or even allow himself to think about the question. Heartbreakingly, he said the hardest thing of all for him is the fact he is still in this world. He didn’t expect to be an old man of retirement age still struggling to feed his kids in a harsh ‘system’ world. He and my mother were promised a martyr’s paradise – the gold mansions and singing lakes of heaven that were depicted in the posters on the commune walls. Both of them still live with the fear that the sky is going to fall in on their heads and worry that by leaving the group they have somehow angered God.
I was just 18 when I escaped the cult. I had my whole life in front of me. But my parents were fed those lies their entire adult life. They gave their whole lives away, sacrificing their careers, money and lifestyle. Yet the leadership has never had the decency to confess the truth and admit they failed their followers. For me that would have been the least they could have done. They lied to people whose lives were i
n their hands.
I accept that my parents were brainwashed and are as much victims of the cult as I am. Brainwashing is more powerful than people realise. Over the years the victim is stripped of their individuality, becoming a ghost of who they once were. They are reprogrammed to believe the doctrines of their manipulator, losing their bearings on what is right and wrong. Any natural instinct towards their real family is simply replaced by devotion to the cult.
Breaking free is only the beginning. Then begins the painful process of reversing the indoctrination. The longer someone stays in a cult the harder it is for them to remember who they were before the cult took control of their mind. Or in the case of someone like me, a cult-born child, my entire personality was made and created by them. When I left I had no idea who I was. My whole existence, everything I thought I knew, had been a lie.
But it is the psychological aftermath of life in a cult that is all too often the silent killer.
To date there have been approximately 40 suicides of ex-Children of God members, most of them not adult members like my parents, but the second generation like me who were born into the cult – the innocents who had no control over their fate.
Author’s Note
For those of you who left this world because the pain was too much to bear, know that we have finally exposed them for what they are. This book is for you – the nameless, voiceless children of the cult. You will always be my family.
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Introduction
The Children of God started in Southern California in the late 1960s, among the hippies and dropouts of Huntington Beach. The founder, David Berg, was born in 1919, in Oakland, California. His mother, Virginia Lee Brandt Berg, was a celebrated evangelist with the Christian Missionary Alliance. In 1944 Berg married Jane Miller, a young Baptist youth worker. After the birth of their second child, Berg became the pastor of a Christian Missionary Alliance Church in Arizona. However, after only three years he was expelled, reputedly for a sex scandal. His expulsion began his life-long bitterness and disillusionment with organized religion.
Born into the Children of God Page 21