The Phoenix Project presentation was Thursday evening during the International Cultic Studies Association (ICSA) conference earlier this month. Time and space was set aside for not only art work of different forms, but presentations by survivors of poetry, literary works, videos, songs, and classical piano. The time of presentation allowed survivors of high-demand groups to express to an understanding audience, the thoughts and emotions concerning their experiences. I wrote this piece before realizing it could be presented for consideration in the Project. After a couple of edits to cut down the length, I read the following narrative about a meeting held on the grounds of Word of Faith Fellowship (WOFF) in 2008.
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Winds of Destruction….
Severe weather experts would record that during the first six months of 2008, “Tornadoes caused 111 deaths through the end of May, the second highest death toll for any year in the Doppler radar era…” ** Though I would live through those months unaware of the death and destruction caused by this severe weather pattern, the winds of destruction blowing in my life that spring would be an ironic reflection of the course of nature’s wrath.
April 9, 2008 was a Wednesday.
This day began as many other days. As a member of the Word of Faith Fellowship (WOFF) in Spindale, NC, living in shared housing with other church members was a normal and even an expected practice. We had moved into this household arrangement in October 2002. My wife, son, daughter and I shared a spacious five bedroom house on a cul-de-sac with another church family of three. There were two other church families living close by on our street- Carver Lane. My wife taught fourth grade in the church sponsored school where my children attended. My son was beginning his middle school years. This was my daughter’s senior year and graduation was scheduled for June 1st. Preparation had already begun for this event which was looked upon with much anticipation and excitement.
My position of employment at the time was considered by some in the church to be ideal. I worked for Two Mile Properties, LLC which was owned by a family in WOFF. My duties as a regional property manager included responsibilities for oversight of the managers and daily operation of seven apartment complexes. The locations of the seven complexes in South Carolina stretched from Gaffney to North Augusta. In order to fulfill these duties, I spent a lot of time driving and occasionally spending a night away from home in North Augusta. Working fifty to sixty hours a week was common. My employer provided a car, a laptop and a company cell phone.
The memory of the specific morning activities which were a part of my day on April 9th remains cloudy. I usually was at the local office around 9:00 AM making preparations for the day. Many times I would carry supplies and smaller items to the appropriate manager’s location. My days included deliveries and helping with the immediate tasks at hand for the apartment complex manager that needed me the most. The day would be filled with hours on the cell phone talking to any number of different people including my immediate supervisor, Andy K. Though not ideal, my pattern had been to arrive back in Spindale for the 7:00PM Wednesday evening service with no time to spare.
When I was running late, eating was not a priority before the church service. That particular church service was not memorable in any regard until my name was called from the platform at the end of the meeting. I was asked to meet my employer in his office which was next door in the fellowship hall. Now, this was not unusual, no alarms went off in my thinking. Many a night had been spent in his office after a church service planning, reviewing and managing the next crisis around Two Mile Properties.
The first awareness of a strange breeze blowing occurred when I saw my wife standing outside the office door in the fellowship hall. Her expression of nervousness should have sounded a loud alarm in me. Amongst the hustle and bustle of church members passing us in the hall, I asked her why she was there and if the children were with someone. She answered the children were “taken hold of”, but would not meet my gaze. I remembered her name had not been called in the sanctuary, she had to know beforehand the purpose of the meeting, however she had not called to tell me. I asked if she would be in this meeting, too. Her acknowledgment sent uneasiness into the pit of my stomach. Suddenly I knew there was no business meeting planned for me. The warning sirens began to wail in my mind. I had no idea that this day would be another sentinel landmark in my life at WOFF.
Thoughts began to bombard my mind in a raging fashion. The common fear of the unknown for members at WOFF began to wash over me. Why would Ray F. and Josh F., the owners of Two Mile Properties want my wife in this meeting? The mantras of WOFF included: Every part of your life was subject to “the will of God.” In order to know and live in “the will of God”, every part of your life was interconnected and subject to the ever changing, more intrusive and far reaching control dynamics of WOFF as administered by the leader – Jane Whaley. She “heard God” for everyone and in every part of their life. You were not able to know God’s will since you had “sin in your life.” As a part of daily life inside of WOFF, Jane required us to submit our life choices either to her directly or through her leadership structure so we could “know the will of God and obey.” Obviously, I was “out of the will of God” and this meeting was for me to learn “the will of God” for my life. Little did I know this meeting would be like none other I had attended in my years at WOFF.
Time seemed suspended standing outside of Ray’s office door. Soon, Ray F. approached in his slow and deliberate fashion. In vain, he sported a look which was meant to put me at ease. I knew his nature was gentle when it was his turn to “bring truth” to someone. We exchanged greetings as he unlocked the door and motioned for us to come inside. The narrow space leading back to his desk opened up and there I took a seat at the front of the desk in a small corner. My wife stood at my left side. Ray motioned for more folks to join us. Josh F. took the seat behind the desk. During the short awkward exchanges, it quickly became evident that I had not been told about this meeting beforehand, but all others present had been briefed. Those in attendance included former pastors of the Greenville church, Gerald S. and his wife, Linda S. My wife and I first came in contact with WOFF through Gerald and Linda in 1992. Andy K. was present as well.
By now, it was about 9:30PM and Ray led off with a why we are all here statement. He began, “Josh brought some things to my attention that pertain to you…” and he trailed off. Josh F. took the lead in a much stronger fashion. “If I had known what was going on earlier, I would have addressed this sooner. Andy tells me that you have been spending too many hours on your part-time Credit Union work; your focus has been more on that than with Two Mile.” I reasoned this introduction was an extension of an impromptu meeting back in March when Andy confronted me. At that time, he expressed his concerns about my trust and loyalty. All in attendance remained solemn waiting for Josh to finish and for me to react to his assessment. His ending ultimatum included, “…tonight, you will quit your part-time job or you will be fired from Two Mile Properties.”
This was part of the required synergy of WOFF life. My part-time work at a Credit Union in a town north of Spindale had been a sticking point for years in the group’s quest to own me. I was not “under authority” when I was working there. My response to Josh included an awkward silence as I considered what reply would be acceptable yet, accurate. I said, “I have a real problem with that.” This initial refusal to accept Josh’s assessment as the will of God brought the next level of reviews of my worth as a person. I think Andy spoke up next and pointed out my leaving the job to pay a bill. Well, yes, I had done that, but felt justified with all the hours I put in to take some time to take care of personal business. That reply did not stop the fury; it only sent the personal rebukes to a new level. Soon, Brooke C. arrived and announces, “There must be the unclean in your life since you could not immediately accept and embrace “the will of God” for the job change.”
The scope and pace of the accusations increased. Moving from job related infractions to even the intimate relationship with my wife. I felt then we were registering at least an EF-3 on the tornado scale. The demands increased while attempting to elicit a confession of whatever sin was in my heart. “If you were right with God, you would be able to accept the will of God, immediately, no matter what!” Time after time Brooke and others would take turns berating me and pounding me to open my heart and confess my sin. Once a new throw down was issued, everyone stopped to stare and wait for me to confess to something.
Somewhere during these solemn stare sessions, my awareness of the surroundings went into a dream-like state. The people were talking around me, but my understanding was slowed and any response I did give had to be pushed out of my mouth. I knew the wrongness surrounding this whole scene playing out before me and yet, I felt powerless to stop or change it. It was unforgettable, yet with all that was in me I wanted to forget this night all together and get up and run. During this dream-like state, the awareness that each person in the room believed that the way I was being treated was normal and acceptable embedded itself in me. That thought was shocking, yet undeniable. Later, that realization became the seed of strength which would grow and cause me to leave WOFF.
After about 90 minutes, I am not for sure exactly, I did what later I would learn from other survivors that they had also done. I confessed something just in hopes the onslaught would end. Looking back, I know that what I confessed to really didn’t matter. Obtaining a confession was used to cement me deeper under their control. After this useless admission, Jane Whaley stormed in the room and poked her finger in my face and screamed- “You are full of the unclean!” At that point, I was told I cut my eyes at her and that reaction was a devil! Suddenly, I had memories of other WOFF members telling of their moments like this. They talked of meeting the “authority of God.” Never before had my inner personal space been invaded, as in that meeting. Next, Jane turned to my crying wife and said, “And you let him be this way!” After seeing the effects of her words, Jane left the gathering muttering she had other meetings to attend. Then my wife, catching the inspiration of the EF-5 tornado that had just blown through, turned to me and began screaming, “Repent and start crying out to God!”
At that exhortation, my hopes to end this trauma session rested on leaning over and feigning some behaviors accepted by the group as repentance. I knew it was shallow since the dream-like session had left me past feeling and in a purely defensive mode. The feeling was similar to being under a dose of anesthesia, retreating into the inner part of your being while watching a horror movie unfold around you. Yes, even my hearing became lessened and some rebukes had to be repeated.
Finally, after two and a half hours, I refused to give in to the screaming, rebukes and WOFF-reasoning; Brooke reached for the phone and said, “Jane, we are not getting anywhere here, I think we need to quit.” Once she said “Okay”, the meeting started to break up. It was so odd; no one else seemed affected by the winds of destruction that had blown me over. My wife asked Josh F., “Does he go to work on Thursday?”
By this time, he was in the hallway and he turned and said, “I don’t need anyone like that working for me.” And with that statement, I was fired. Immediately, I surrendered the company car and the laptop.
And if the drama had been over at that point, I would have been so glad. It was a solemn ride home with my wife. The children were already in bed when we got home. As we prepared for bed, my wife exclaimed, “You don’t sleep in this bed!” My senses were still shell shocked from the treatment a couple of hours earlier, I slept in the recliner. Honestly, who would want to be next to her at that time?
I remember waking up the next morning to a very empty feeling. Was it all a dream? Would things go back to normal and mend themselves? No, this was real. The destruction set on course by the tornado force winds that blew into my life was real. The effects of the damage were just beginning to be felt. I had lived through Hurricane Hugo in 1989 and had a reference point. This was the morning after the storm and the damage assessment was just beginning. Though I could not see into the future, my world had been forever changed.
** source link- http://www.weather.com/blog/weather/8_15782.html
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As mentioned in a previous post, I was nervous until about half was through. My thoughts were racing faster than I was reading. Somewhere in the middle, I made the conscious effort to slow down and enjoy the ride. When I finished the silence seemed long and deafening. Suddenly, applause broke forth and I was able to rest. Afterwards, several folks came up to express their appreciation for me sharing my story. A few mentioned enduring similar meetings during their group experience. New friends made during the week, assured me that the trauma mentioned was not only found in WOFF, but it happened in their group as well. These thoughts were sad to consider on one hand, yet validating on the other.
The dynamics of control and abuse found at WOFF were not unique. I have been writing about that for years and it was so good to hear other survivors confirm my beliefs. I know the experiences depicted in this narrative were common at WOFF. How each member handled their experiences during meetings like this was unique and may not have caused concern or changes until months or years later. In order to survive in WOFF, one had to be skilled at reading social cues and doing your best to stay out of trouble or ahead of the next wave of correction and discipline. Members accomplished this in different ways, but just the requirement to look obedient and avoid drama was the cause of much anxiety and stress. That dynamic of avoiding confrontation was not unique to WOFF. We will review more commonalities of high-demand groups in future posts.
During the last few months, I have been writing the first draft of my book. The memoir will recount my life leading up to and coming under the influences, teachings and practices of WOFF. The plans are now to use Winds of Destruction as the introduction to my book.
Thank you, for taking time to visit and read this blog. Please, consume the information on this site responsibly. The author is not a licensed mental health professional and encourages those that need professional help to seek it. The intent of the material is to inform and be a resource. Be sure to tell every member that you know at WOFF about this blog. There are readers at WOFF. Jane told me and Josh confirmed it.
Comments are invited from all readers, including present or former members. Polls are not scientific and no private information is gathered.
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Scripture references are Amplified Version unless otherwise noted. (Copyright © 1954, 1958, 1962, 1964, 1965, 1987 by The Lockman Foundation ) This is post number 486.