“Sheriff,” I said gently but firmly, “prepare for this to be the pervasive attitude. It’s honorable in their society to make everything difficult for law enforcement, who they believe is persecuting the Priesthood of God.”
He described several kids being nasty and defiant, but then spoke of some that were curious and even relieved at their presence. “We had these red-headed boys that were inquisitive about the armored ambulance. So a couple of the SWAT guys let them check out the controls and even punch a coupla buttons—safe ones, you know—and they just grinned until an adult came and told them to get out. Another time, one of the girls got off the bus to get her shoes, and on her way back on, she whispered into one of the officer’s ears, ‘Thank you for coming.’ ” He seemed moved by that.
“We’ll be glad to have your help today. The FLDS culture is more foreign than we anticipated, and there are several documents I’d like you to help us identify.” We had arrived at the compound, and the sheriff drove me around the perimeter of the property to keep me under the radar. I was fascinated to see the ranch for the first time in the light of day, but a little unnerved to see such familiar workmanship firsthand. By looking at a certain building, I would know precisely who had built it, or who was meant to be living in it—or both.
At the command post, Doran introduced me to several Texas Rangers, pleasant enough but all business. Their faces were tired and worn. The sheriff had explained to me that the Texas Rangers had earned their trademark white hats—which they’d traded in this case for SWAT gear—from countless years of service in law enforcement, their skills in investigation, and their ability to defuse volatile situations. Many of them had traveled hundreds of miles to get here, and most of them had been working thirty-to thirty-six-hour shifts with only a few hours’ sleep in between.
We parked, and the sheriff walked me through one of the buildings that had been emptied of people. Eerily, there was a picture of Warren Jeffs in every single room, and the aroma in the hallway was so familiar that I started to feel like Mother Becky, with long, braided hair and a prairie dress… until I was interrupted by a voice calling, “Becky—can you come and explain what this might mean?” In one unconscious moment, I had become FLDS. And one moment later I was not. The magnitude of what was about to happen hit me again.
The FLDS would never understand why I was assisting law enforcement. As with Warren’s Utah trial, they would think that my intention was to hurt them. I remembered Warren saying, “The world does not know how to hurt us. It is those who knew the truth and have fallen away that teach the world how to attack us.” And yet, by the time I reached the end of the hallway, a familiar fire pulsed through my bloodstream as I recalled the number of very young, very pregnant girls on my television screen. Then you shouldn’t have done this in the first place, Warren, I thought. Only truth and courage had emancipated me from Rulon’s home and Warren’s clutches. I had to rely on truth and courage again for the sake of the young girls.
Three men were looking at some documents they had found—marriage records, I realized. I remembered collecting them by the hundreds at Rulon’s home during an FLDS census. We had been taught since elementary school about the importance of keeping meticulous family and ordinance records, because “whatever is recorded on earth is recorded in Heaven.” The officers did not understand what they were looking at. I was struck by the sobering realization that what I told these men would forever change the course of my people. Based on what the rangers had seen on the ranch already, these records of marriages would definitely be damning to several of the FLDS leaders—not just the men who married underage women, but also the men who performed the ceremonies and those who gave their young daughters to other leaders.
After leaving that building, I returned to the command post, where two rangers were getting ready to do a more thorough investigation of a home they believed to be Warren’s.
“Is there anything we should look for?” they asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Look for a room—a secret room, something behind a bookshelf.”
They looked at me as if I had been watching too many movies. I noticed that some of the men didn’t seem to believe my answers, despite my being meticulous and refusing to exaggerate. When they returned, though, they looked very serious.
“Hey, what was it again you told us to look for?”
I hesitated. “I’ve never lived here on this compound, but I would be willing to bet there would be a secret room of sorts in that—”
“We found it, ma’am.” They both grinned ear to ear. “It’s filled with boxes of documents and even safes.”
I noticed several others perk up at that news, and pretty soon some of the officers who had ignored me came over with more questions.
That afternoon, at my request, a ranger quietly escorted me out to watch, from a distance, the last of the women and children being bused off the ranch. My heart leaped with joy as I recognized many of the women I knew and loved, but when I saw the looks of fear and uncertainty on their faces, I longed to comfort them. I couldn’t help but notice how considerate and respectful the guards and SWAT members were, even as some of the women were blatantly nasty to them. Some of the other women seemed incredulous, and I realized that they had never been treated respectfully by a man before, and certainly hadn’t expected it from an armor-clad government officer.
As the buses drove away, I walked back to the command post, where a ranger came to tell me that I was going to meet Brooks, the Texas Ranger in charge of the investigation. Sheriff Doran had coached me, saying, “He’ll call a spade a spade, and a snake a snake. He’s under a lot of pressure, so don’t take it personal if he snaps or barks.”
I waited there until a broad-shouldered man with a strong, angular jaw and a name tag saying “Long” approached me.
“Are you Miss Musser?”
“Yes.”
“Come with me, please.” He began walking briskly toward the temple. As I hurried to keep up with him, he asked me a few brief questions. After fumbling a bit, I realized that he was Brooks—Brooks Long.
“Wow, you’re nicer than I thought you would be,” I sputtered, and instantly placed my hand over my mouth.
As we neared the temple, I thought about what it would feel like to live here among the FLDS again. Sheriff Doran had told me that the women had likely never left the property. What would the women’s schedules be like? I wondered about the structure of their days, how they socialized and conducted worship.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” Brooks’s concerned voice interrupted my thoughts. “Am I walking too fast for you?”
I stared wide-eyed at Brooks, who was now in front of me. Twice now, I’d unconsciously stepped in line behind him. I had always walked behind Ben and Wendell. I had always walked behind Dad. Behind Rulon Jeffs. Behind Warren, behind Seth, or any other Priesthood leader. Even in mainstream society, I’d received the subtle message that a woman must be subservient, that she must follow and obey. It dawned on me that for the very first time in my life, I was being treated like an equal by a man!
I’m sure Brooks was unaware as something from my unconscious suddenly exploded into the light of day. That moment crossing the temple lawn would change me forever.
CHAPTER 26
Sacrificial Lambs
I accompanied Brooks up the blinding white back stairs to the temple, going as fast as I could in my heels. Glancing nervously over my shoulder, I realized what an easy target I was this high up. I had no doubt how they would feel about an apostate entering their temple—I was considered even worse than law enforcement. We entered through the split doors to the main floor of the temple, and with more than a little sadness I saw the damage of the battering ram on the heavy oak doors. I also saw the many, many locks that had to be busted open. Warren had certainly not wanted any unauthorized persons to access this place.
Now inside, Brooks first led me over to the left, to a walkway leading to a small building adjacent to the first floor
of the temple, with furnaces and a laundry facility inside. There I noticed a laundry list in Mother Paula’s familiar handwriting. She had made it to Zion, and to the temple. The knowledge in the pit of my stomach of what lay in this temple kept me from rejoicing for her.
Back in the main building, just past the elegant foyer, was an assembly hall decorated in soft earth tones with at least two hundred beautifully handcrafted oak chairs spread across it in formation. In one corner, a beautiful white baby grand piano rested; against another wall, an entire column of chairs sat upon an impressive platform behind a banister. Certain chairs were clearly marked for the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve, as outlined in early church doctrine and scriptures. On each side, there were another thirty-five chairs, likely for the Quorum of the Seventy, who, like the Twelve, were to be traveling ministers under the President of the Church. Despite Rulon’s assertion of one-man rule and Warren’s continuation of it, he had nonetheless designed everything on this floor to the strictest standards of the temples of the early church, with quorums. Warren had been preparing for it on a physical, if not spiritual, basis.
Sheriff Doran joined us and we made our way up to the second level, where all of the colors transformed from earth tones to sky blue and white. Two intricate murals decorated opposing walls, one depicting a harmonious scene in the Garden of Eden, the other terrible in its ferocious portrayal of predator and prey. I didn’t care for the latter, but I marveled again at the workmanship of the artist, whom I recognized from Short Creek: “Mr. Rich” Barlow, once a fellow teacher who was related to me by marriage and was Dr. Barlow’s brother.
Different areas of the temple were meant to signify different kingdoms, or degrees of glory—the degrees of Heaven one would earn in eternal life. Christ said, “In my Father’s house, there are many mansions,” and we were taught these mansions or kingdoms were the Telestial Kingdom, the Terrestrial Kingdom, and the highest, the Celestial Kingdom. The scene of chaos was intended to portray the Telestial Kingdom—a step up from outer darkness or perdition, but not so different from what we experienced on earth, while the scene in Eden represented the higher Terrestrial Kingdom, one of peace and harmony with greater light and knowledge. Only in the Celestial Kingdom, with the magnificent light and glory of the sun, would we reside in our Father’s presence and be like him, able to create our own worlds. It was what all worthy FLDS aspired to, and the only way to attain it was through the fullness of the Priesthood: Celestial Marriage. The Higher Law. The Work. Plurality.
I ascended the stunning spiral staircase next to Brooks and was almost blinded by the next level: complete whiteness, in the walls, carpets, and ceilings. We stepped into a room with muted sea-foam carpeting, but even the familiar scriptures on the shelves were bound in white leather with gold lettering: Journals of Discourses. Sermons of Leroy S. Johnson. Sermons of Rulon T. Jeffs. Sermons of Warren Jeffs. In Light and Truth. Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith.
I tried not to gasp. The most prominent feature in the room was a twin-sized Murphy bed that unfolded from a bright white cabinet in the wall. Kitty-corner from it was the President’s desk, and to the right of it was a smaller desk. Chairs surrounded the bed in a profound arc—some taller than others, signifying those in authority. Though Warren had been caught before the whole temple could be dedicated, it was obvious from the disarray that this room had already been dedicated and used.
Yellow crime scene tape kept us from going all the way in, but it took less than a fraction of a second for my brain to determine what this was: a training room.
For a brief moment, I thought I might pass out. This room was all about total submission to your husband, your husband who owns you, mind, spirit, and body. Good God, Warren…, I couldn’t help thinking. How could you? I choked back a tear but regained my composure quickly, knowing it was facts the officers needed, and only facts that could help all the girls and women now.
Brooks and Doran began asking questions. Everything I saw in the room had been hinted at in our trainings, as it had been explained to us by Warren, Rulon, or another of his sons. When Brooks pointed to a lavish crystal decanter of olive oil and a very large, shiny bowl that were prominently displayed in a glass-front cabinet, I was able to answer: “On this floor, and with that size bowl, it could only be for one thing: a ritual known as ‘the second ordinance.’ What you must know is that a first-time temple goer will be washed and anointed, meaning washed of all worldly essence, and anointed or sanctified as one of the Lord’s appointed followers to be worthy to receive the first temple endowment, which is significant, because this is how he or she learns the precise way to get into Heaven after death.
“But way beyond that is the second ordinance, called the Fullness of the Priesthood, which is about a person’s ‘calling and election made sure.’ What this means is that a person has been determined to be ultraworthy in the Lord’s eyes, and he is going to Heaven no matter what.”
They looked at me quizzically.
“I haven’t personally participated in it, but remember how I explained a woman’s hair is considered her crowning glory?”
Doran nodded.
“Well, my sister-wives Naomi, Ellen, Paula, and Ora all had participated with Rulon, one at a time, in this ordinance. As Mary and another woman did to Christ in Luke, in the New Testament, a wife will wash her husband’s feet, anoint them with oil, then dry them with her long hair. That’s why an FLDS woman is never to cut her hair.”
“And the bed?” asked Brooks. “What do they do there? Pray over you? Cut a cake?” Brooks wanted lightning-quick answers, but not everything felt so cut-and-dried to me. If they were to know anything, it was important that they know everything—that it not be misconstrued. The people I loved would be greatly affected by whatever words came out now.
“We found a woman’s hair on that bed,” Brooks said brusquely, pointing to a black medium-length strand visible on the white sheet. My first thought was that it belonged to Mother Paula, but I realized it might be Ellen’s or Ruthie’s or any number of Warren’s wives. Which one of them had been subjected to what I feared most during my married life to Rulon?
My mind went right back to family classes, where Warren first alluded to this “great blessing” we would receive at our own temple, always leaving more questions than answers. After Rulon’s stroke, however, I remember him saying that as Rulon’s wives, we were the most “well-taught and trained” throughout all of FLDS history, since our people had known relative peace during Rulon’s reign. Warren urged us to prepare ourselves immediately for the second anointing, essentially a second endowment, and to invite angels to be with us from that point forward every time we were “with” our husband. It was to prepare us for something even greater, he said.
One night closer to the end of Rulon’s life, during family class, Warren began to talk about the Fullness of the Priesthood. Rulon, who had lost his mental filter, got so excited he had interrupted Warren.
“Can’t we set up a room in this house for this ordinance?” he cried. “I need to take care of these ladies!”
Warren about fell off his chair—and I almost did, too. Warren had taught us these principles perhaps three times before, but it had always seemed in the distant future! For the duration of that class, however, Rulon kept insisting we immediately set up, bless, and dedicate a room specifically for the “True Order of Creation.” Warren kept trying to shut Rulon up without blatantly telling the Prophet no. My sister-wives and I were dutifully taking notes, and I wondered how many of them were as sick inside as I was. Later that night after class, Isaac came to each of our rooms, asking to see our notebooks, which he took with him. I remembered being relieved, because I figured it meant we truly weren’t ready.
“What we talk about in this home is sacred,” Warren admonished us the next day. “If you are talking about your second endowments, even amongst yourselves, you are forsaking them, treating your endowments lightly, and you will eliminate those blessings.�
� That was our signal to keep our mouths shut. I was happy to do so, and hoped we would not hear about it again, but that was not the case.
Now I informed the men about what we learned soon after.
“Warren told Rulon’s wives, ‘You are living the Law of Celestial Marriage, but there will come a time that as faithful people, we will have a temple. There you will be taught the Fullness of Celestial Marriage, also known as the Fullness of the Law of Sarah. You will have the opportunity to learn the True Principles of Creation, and true order of creating pure and holy spirits.’ ”
Warren said we would learn how to correct our thoughts, turning away from the carnal to be so pure and holy that angels would surround us so as to help us to conceive a child, also adding there would be certain “positions of intercourse” we would learn.
A look passed between Brooks and Doran, and it only added to the heat I felt in my face as I was reliving the horror of the training. “And if we were really pure,” I added gravely, “then we could act as witnesses for our sister-wives when they received their endowments. That was the Fullness of the Law of Sarah—that not only would we agree to let our husband marry others, but that we would so graciously welcome them into the fold with the purest of hearts as we witnessed their endowment. That meant we had to see our husband having intercourse with other wives, and at some point, we also would be the object of that witness.” I was so embarrassed to say these words that I wanted to cry. I wanted to be sick.
“I’ll be honest with you,” I told the two men, “I prayed that we weren’t ready yet as a people! I for one knew I couldn’t participate. I wanted to be considered by God as pure and holy, and I welcomed more than forty-five wives after me into Celestial Marriage with Rulon. But the thought of having my body exposed to angels was shocking enough. I knew I could not have intercourse in front of earthly witnesses, even if it meant being able to have a child. I kept that thought to myself, but I was horrified.”
The Witness Wore Red: The 19th Wife Who Brought Polygamous Cult Leaders to Justice Page 30
