Escape

by Carolyn Jessop

  Tammy grabbed a Kleenex and wiped the tears from her face.

  “Carolyn, I can’t stand this! This is what happened to me and I hate to see it happening to another girl. I know what it is like to have to marry a man who is so much older. You don’t have anything in life to live for anymore.” Her chest was heaving with sobs. All the grief in her life from having had to marry Uncle Roy when she was a young girl overwhelmed her. Tammy’s life had been stolen from her just as Bonnie’s was being stolen now.

  Tammy had been eighteen and Uncle Roy eighty-eight when she was assigned to him in marriage. She told me that Uncle Roy was so old he had only slept with her a few times in the decade that they were married. During most of their marriage he was sick and bedridden. Tammy never felt she had any kind of relationship with him at all.

  Being the wife of the prophet of God is a very public position, and every move a woman makes is monitored. If you are a younger wife, that scrutiny is compounded by the fact that all of your sister wives, who are old enough to be your mother, act superior, if not outright disdainful, toward you.

  When Tammy stopped sobbing she said, “It feels like her parents took her like a lamb to slaughter and sacrificed her purely for the purpose of having a daughter married to the Prophet of God.” With that she left the room and said she was going outside for some fresh air.

  I saw Bonnie a few times in public after her marriage to Uncle Rulon. The light was gone from her eyes. She was wearing even more restrictive clothing and looked distressed. It was as if her being had been evacuated. My stomach began churning and I felt sick. Bonnie was a year younger than I was and had always been a beautiful girl who sparkled with life. Now she looked so alone and forsaken. I knew how difficult it was to marry a man thirty years my senior, but the thought of being assigned to someone who was sixty years older was as horrifying as it was incomprehensible.

  Word was moving around the community now that fathers were arranging most of the marriages. The prophet had hardly any involvement with where girls were going or to whom. Our lives were currency for other people to spend.

  I remember my surprise one day about nine months later when I heard that Loretta, one of Merril’s daughters, was going to be married, because he had several who were still unmarried and older than she. When I asked him whom Loretta was marrying, he turned to me with a smile. “Well, it’s Uncle Rulon.”

  I sat down, too shocked to stand. I didn’t want to make a scene because marriages were supposedly arranged by God, so I quickly threw the switch to erase any emotion from my face. I did not dare let Merril know what I was thinking. But I knew in my bones that he had arranged this marriage. Tall and thin, with a mane of jet-black hair, Loretta had striking features and was one of Merril’s most beautiful daughters.

  My first memory of her was seeing her in high school as a staunch member of the nusses. She lived and breathed Fascinating Womanhood and was well-versed in the art of manipulating a man. Now she was about to marry the most powerful man in the FLDS who, at eighty-two, probably wouldn’t even notice if the Dixie cup dispenser was right side up or not.

  Loretta seemed to accept her fate without much enthusiasm. She began making her wedding dress as soon as she learned about her imminent marriage, which was to take place within days.

  Merril decided that the entire family would go to Salt Lake City—all six wives and some thirty children. The wedding was that night, and we set out in the morning in a caravan of six or seven cars and trucks. Merril had been promising his children a trip to a fishing farm en route to Salt Lake City. He decided this was the time to do it.

  This was idiotic because there weren’t enough older children to help the younger ones with their lines and poles. Within minutes, there was a tangled blur of lines both in the water and out. Hooks were caught in clothing and hair. It was mayhem. The farm was well stocked with fish, but we caught only two.

  After we left the fishing farm, one of the cars in our caravan broke down, which slowed us even more. Loretta was beside herself. This was not just any wedding. Uncle Rulon was obsessed with punctuality. He had no tolerance for people who were late, and now Loretta had missed her own wedding and felt disgraced.

  Merril performed the marriage the following evening at Uncle Rulon’s home. As an elder in the FLDS, he had that power. It was a huge event, with about a hundred people in attendance. Loretta looked stunning in a modest white wedding dress with elegant lace trim. Uncle Rulon wasn’t strong enough to stand for the wedding. He sat in an armchair. Loretta sat in a chair beside him. His wizened old hand held hers in the patriarchal grip, which is symbolic of the way he will hold her hand when he resurrects her into heaven after death.

  Merril was beaming. Now he had direct access to the prophet. I had always known Merril was hungry for power. But I had never understood how voracious an appetite he had or how much human sacrifice it would require.

  My Patriarchal Blessing

  A woman’s destiny in the FLDS is handed to her in two ways. She is assigned in marriage by the prophet who’s told by God the name of her husband-to-be. But even before that happens, usually sometime in her early teenage years, a woman is given a patriarchal blessing, which explains her purpose in life.

  When Merril’s younger daughters were getting their patriarchal blessing I realized that, for whatever reason, I’d never had one. I asked Merril if he’d arrange for me to have one. He was surprised that I hadn’t and agreed to ask one of the three patriarchs in the community to schedule an appointment for me. A patriarch ranks third in the FLDS hierarchy, after the prophet and his apostles.

  The prophet receives revelations for people at large or for the entire community. While the prophet will tell an individual whom God wants him to marry, he doesn’t get involved in revealing the futures of each young person in the community. That responsibility is divided up among the patriarchs. In our community, there were three patriarchs who gave blessings.

  Women never talked too much about their blessings. The information was supposed to be kept private because we believed that if you talked too much about it you could compromise the blessing. From what I’d heard, most young women were told that they would become a faithful wife and a mother in Zion, raising faithful children up to the Lord.

  My blessing was much different.

  It was bestowed on me by Joseph Barlow, a son of the former prophet. Merril took me to his home and we went into a private room. I sat in a chair and the patriarch put his hands on my head. In a deep voice he began by saying, “The purpose of this blessing is to learn the will of God concerning his daughter Carolyn, the daughter of Arthur and Nurylon Blackmore.”

  He told me I was a direct descendant of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Jesus Christ. “The pure blood of Jesus Christ runs through your veins,” he said in a sober tone. I was surprised but not quite sure how to feel. I had heard that this was told to some people in their blessings. It seemed like a privilege, but I had no idea why.

  In my preexistence, I’d been one of the choicest spirits, held in reserve for the last days to be part of ushering in a thousand years of peace. In my mortal lifetime, I would see Christ live again on earth. The patriarch told me I’d been selected for this gift because in my preexistence, I had been an enormous influence in casting the devil out of heaven. I was an intelligent spirit before I came to earth and my intelligence had been put to good use during the war in heaven against the spirits who stood against God.

  I listened intently. I was expecting to hear a lot about marriage and children. This felt much bigger.

  My intelligence was the reason God had chosen to use me again on earth. Apparently one of my talents was discernment. The patriarch told me I could look at people and know when I met them if they were good or evil.

  Because of my gifts, there were many spirits on the other side who were watching over me. These spirits would give me opportunities to see things and would make me aware of dangers. The reason for this was that God intended to use me to protec
t his people in the last days. I was also going to be put to work in the temple and be responsible for many people receiving their priesthood training.

  There was more. I was told that I’d be working with the ten tribes when they returned to earth and many of them would be personally trained by me. It was a great honor to live until the time of the ten tribes, and being engaged in their education was a rare privilege.

  As if these responsibilities weren’t enough, I was told that some of the most precious spirits from the other side were waiting to come to earth as my children. The blessing continued as the patriarch told me that educational opportunities would continue to come my way and that I would end up as a valiant member of God’s chosen.

  These blessings were contingent on my remaining faithful until the end of my life. In return, I had the promise that I would be lifted up on the last day and protected.

  After my blessing was over I felt confused. Not many women in the FLDS had ever lived lives that were valued as having an impact on others in their community. My blessing sounded like a destiny I wasn’t really seeking.

  Merril never asked me about my blessing. I’m sure he assumed it was nothing special.

  Hawaii: Seven Days but Only Two Nights

  The moment I heard that Merril was planning a trip to Hawaii I knew there would be trouble in paradise. But I underestimated what an unmitigated disaster it would turn out to be.

  I was upset when I heard about the trip for the first time at my father’s house. My dad and Merril had become business partners again after my marriage. They’d worked together before on a deal that turned out badly and my father decided he was never going to do business with him again, but after my marriage their partnership accelerated. They were investing in motels, rest homes, and a restaurant or two. They would often travel together to check on their businesses. Six months before, they’d gone to Washington, D.C. Merril took Barbara with him. He usually always traveled with Barbara because she was the love of his life.

  But now he had three more wives and the pressure was on him to include more than just Barbara on his trips. Merril had an image to protect. In the FLDS culture, a man is supposed to treat each of his wives equally. There’s always favoritism, but in theory a family is supposed to be united behind the husband, who’s called the priesthood head. A woman’s only avenue to God is through her husband. We were raised to believe we could not receive direct revelations from God on our own. Whatever God had to communicate or reveal to a woman could be transmitted only through her husband. This doctrine was unassailable and had been so for generations in the culture I was born into.

  If a man shows favoritism or appears not to be in control of his family, it damages his image in the community and opens him up to accusations that he does not have the spirit of God within him. One of the reasons Merril tried to keep us all pregnant was that it created the illusion that he was having a relationship with each of us. But that was a myth. The reality was he loved Barbara and no one else. Merril was a polygamist in body but a monogamist in soul. He enjoyed the power polygamy gave him, and as a narcissist, he craved the attention. But Barbara was the only woman he ever loved.

  When I heard about the Hawaii trip, I knew there would be no way Merril could take Barbara with him so soon after their trip to Washington. At my father’s I heard that my father had paid for extra tickets so Merril could take three wives. I was furious. No one ever traveled with multiple wives. It never worked. It was an insult and humiliating to think that Merril was even considering taking three wives. I told both my mothers I didn’t want to go. My mother accused me of being ungrateful and said I didn’t know what my father had gone through to see that I was included on the trip. I still didn’t care. My father knew Merril was unfair to his wives but he didn’t know to what extent. He sensed my unhappiness but not the depth of it, and I think he believed the trip might give me hope that things would get better.

  I was twenty-two and thought this would probably be the only big trip I’d ever have in my lifetime. Merril was unfair in doling out rewards in his family, and Barbara was so clearly his favorite wife I knew that he’d continue to travel with her as often as he could. As women, we had no right to travel by ourselves. I didn’t want to share what would most likely be the only major trip of my lifetime with two other of Merril’s wives.

  Tammy got wind of the trip within days and confronted Merril immediately in his office. Like me, she was outraged that he was taking three of us.

  “If Carolyn’s father is paying for this trip, then Carolyn should go. Anyone else who comes along is just an intruder,” Tammy said.

  Merril was unfazed. “This is my trip and I can invite whomever I choose. If I choose to invite my lovely wife Tammy, I would think she would be honored to accept the invitation.”

  Tammy shot back in a rare burst of self-assertiveness, “How can you say that like a compliment? You are inviting me on the trip to destroy Carolyn’s opportunity to have a trip with you. How is that a compliment?”

  Merril was furious. “This is not Carolyn’s trip. You, Tammy, are out of order for trying to tell me what I can and cannot do with my family. Carolyn has a right to go with me alone only if that’s what I want her to do. You have a responsibility to be obedient to your husband, but you do not have any right to ask questions!”

  Cathleen was equally incensed when she found out that one of the tickets was in her name. She called Merril at his office in Page and said she should be the sole wife traveling with him to Hawaii. Cathleen called from a phone in the house that was very public and was talking so loudly we all could hear. She felt entitled to go alone because she had only ever taken short trips with Merril. There was no logic to her argument—she was just angling to get a trip for herself. We all had been married to Merril for about four years. If the trip had been based on seniority, then I should have been the one to go alone because I’d been married to Merril seven months longer than they.

  By the time Cathleen finished talking to Merril she was in tears and stormed off to her room.

  I was furious, but I knew confronting Merril would be unproductive. We’d already had several major fights in our marriage and I knew there was no way to reason with him or refuse to acquiesce to whatever he desired. I was in the early stages of my third pregnancy and in the throes of morning sickness so severe I’d vomit several times a day. The thought of getting on an airplane and leaving my children, Arthur and Betty, behind made me feel even worse. Nor would I have any say about their care while I was away. I couldn’t even ask my sister or a friend to watch them. I had to leave them at the mercy of the wives remaining at home.

  Quiet and resigned, I started making preparations for the trip. I knew I couldn’t miss more than a week of school without making arrangements for my class, so I started doing lesson plans in advance. I bought some fabric and started sewing some lightweight dresses for the trip. Tammy saw me working on my dress and felt threatened. She had a closet full of beautiful clothes but now felt she needed seven new dresses for the trip. She bought fabric and then asked her sisters to make her new dresses.

  Tammy was on the warpath. She’d tell anyone who’d listen that she was being forced to go on a trip to Hawaii with me. In an about-face, she’d managed to turn me into the villain, even while knowing I had no desire to go. She started obsessing about everything I did. If I bought something for the trip, she needed to buy five of them. Cathleen, who was also pregnant, stayed in the background and out of the line of fire.

  I tried reasoning with Tammy, but she wanted no part of it. I said that since it appeared that the trip was a fait accompli, why didn’t we all just make the best of it? If we tried, we could have a good time, or at the very least not make things any worse or stranger than they already were.

  Tammy was dismissive. She had a new mission: pregnancy. Tammy was the only one of Merril’s wives who’d never had a baby. This was a disaster for her, especially since her mother had twenty children and was the wife who had su
bstantial influence over her husband’s entire family. In comparison to her mother, she was nothing. Without children, a woman had no power or status. None of us in plural marriages had even remotely normal relationships with men, but Tammy’s was unique, even in our bizarre culture.

  At eighteen, she had been married to the prophet Uncle Roy. He was eighty-eight. In ten years, they’d never had sex because he was too old and incapacitated. Even though she’d been married for a decade, she was still a virgin when she married Merril shortly after Uncle Roy’s death.

  She was upset when I gave birth because she’d been so unsuccessful in getting pregnant. She’d had an ectopic pregnancy before I gave birth to Arthur. Tammy had been taking Clomid, a fertility drug. When Merril found out that one of the side effects of Clomid was ectopic pregnancy, he was furious and told Tammy to quit the drug. She refused. Merril stopped having sex with her. (I knew this because she told us. We also had heard her screaming at Merril for three years that it was his priesthood duty to get her pregnant.)

  Her desperation for a child kept escalating. Before the trip she went to the doctor again for more Clomid and began taking a double dose. She was determined to conceive in Hawaii. The more she focused on pregnancy, the less of a threat I became. Tammy stopped attacking me and suddenly became enthusiastic about Hawaii.

  There was never a moment when Merril sat down with us and told us we were all going to Hawaii and explained the plan. Our lives were never that logical. We heard about the trip, and then learned that tickets were purchased with our names on them, and each of us began making our own unilateral preparations.

  The morning we left, Tammy was the only happy one. Cathleen was still sulky and quiet. I was resigned but told myself I might see some good sights. If this was the one trip I was ever going to take, I wanted to see and learn as much as possible.