"What? How?"
"I'll make them invite me in," I replied, asking them to show me where the nearest parks to the Home were.
The first park I went to was beautiful, with a brook running through lush grass lined with avenues of trees. Some-thing told me they would be there. To get to the playground, I had to cross the bridge. I waited, looking at my reflection in the water. When I glanced up, I saw around ten young children marching two by two, an adult in front and behind.
They were right on cue.
As they marched past me, I turned around as casually as I could. "Excuse," I said to the woman in front. "Quelle heure s'il vous plait?"
"Five o'clock," she said with a German accent. She appeared to be friendly.
"Oh, English! Good," I replied. "I am actually from Eng-land."
They would have continued on their way, but I tried to keep the conversation going and commented on the number of children they had.
"Well, we're a Christian school," they replied. "So what brings you here?"
"Just traveling on my year out." I smiled, looking my "sheepy" best—the Family called potential recruits "sheep."
They invited me to join them at the playground and once we had sat down and after some small talk, they asked, "Have you heard about Jesus and that he died to save you from your sins?"
"Yeah, I've heard about religion and stuff I don't know. It's all so confusing." I smiled feebly.
"We're Christian missionaries serving the Lord." I knew the patter, of course, by heart. "We'd give you some leaflets but we didn't bring any with us," one of the women said.
They asked me if I would like to be saved and receive Jesus into my heart. So I prayed the salvation prayer—again. This is how we must have appeared to outsiders, I thought.
When one of the women with dark hair called out, "Victor! Lily!" I realized that the woman was Serena, Juliana's mother, who I had seen on Family videos! I had finally met my half brother and sister whom I had only seen in baby photographs. It was a shock and I was very curious; but I had to keep my emotions in check. I had a job to do. I pre-tended to want to learn more about the Family's good works so they would invite me back to their home. Of course, they would not bring a stranger directly back to their "selah"— secret—commune.
After I watched them go, I sat by the lake and cried. I had been tense; but I was also very emotional having met Victor and Lily for the first time in these unusual circumstances, but not being able to say anything.
When I had recovered a little, I ran back to tell Mum I had seen Serena and she might know where Celeste was. Mum was shocked at first and then worried when I told her my new plan, but I convinced her I would be safe.
I wanted to see Victor and Lily again, and possibly find out where Celeste was, so the next day I strode up to their door and knocked. Five minutes later, a little window slid open and a pair of eyes peered out.
"Hello? Who are you?" I was asked.
"Oh, I met Serena and Ruth at the park yesterday and they said they had some pamphlets," I said, my voice full of breezy confidence.
"Oh," the voice said. The flap shut and I stood there waiting.
Eventually, I heard someone fumbling with an array of locks. Serena opened the door to welcome me. Her first question, edged with suspicion, was to ask how I had found the place.
"Oh, I asked someone," I said casually. "Everyone seemed to know where the school was."
She relaxed and smiled and stood back to let me enter. Once inside, it was like I was in a time warp. I could not believe it. I was in!
As the familiar procedure went, the children sang for me. They performed the usual routine, which of course I knew by heart. It took a considerable effort not to join in with the songs.
When the show was over, I gave a hearty clap and made a beeline for Lily and Victor. I chatted with them and ended up bouncing them on my knee. They invited me to stay for dinner and while I ate and listened, I looked casually around—and spotted a young woman who was like the photographs Mrs. Willie had shown me of her daughter. Her pregnancy was obvious. I also looked at the map on the wall because Serena had said her husband was away on "the mission field."
"Mission field?" I asked, hoping she would offer more information.
"Oh yes, Asia," she answered cagily and changed the subject.
Once the door of the commune closed behind me, I ran back to the house where Mum and Mrs. Willie were waiting expectantly. I told Mrs. Willie that I had seen her daughter who was indeed pregnant. Perhaps it wasn't the outcome she had hoped for—but at least, she knew where her daughter was.
Back in England, we got to know Ian Howarth and his wife, Marie Christine, better. Marie Christine had once been in the Children of God. She met David Berg while in the group and told me how his entire room was covered from wall to wall with photographs of naked women and children. She left in 1978 and became an open critic of the cult along with her husband. Though I was only fourteen, I, too, began speaking out against the Family and its practices. I was one of the first of their children to speak out and I gave a number of statements to the police.
Mum was scared that if she aggravated the Family they would never let her see Celeste again, so she made fewer public appearances. After fifteen years in the cult she was also trying to adjust to normal life, and with six young children to look after it was not easy. And it was not easy for me either. Mum realized that I needed some privacy as a teenage girl so I was given the box room—the first room I had ever had all to myself. I joined the school drama club and spent many hours at the local library—anything to take my mind of of the sometimes overwhelming pain I experienced. I was beginning to understand the full extent of my past and the consequences it was having on my present. We were told black was white and white was black and I had a lot of unlearning to do.
I started dating a guy called Bryan. He was three years older than me, confident and bubbly. I was immediately attracted to him. He had beautiful green eyes and I was delighted every time he asked me out. Mum thought I was too young to have a boyfriend, but I wouldn't listen. Bryan tried hard to prove his love. He was very attentive and would cycle seven miles after work to see me. When he took me out, we would have fun together. Being with him distracted me from all that I was dealing with. We fell in love.
Around this time, Dad—my real dad—wrote Mum a letter accusing her of"vilifying and degrading the good work of others, the Children of God, and causing a lot of people to get stirred up over nothing."
Mum was upset and indignant—and perhaps a little sad.
I was outraged at Dad's letter and felt compelled to speak out again and defend my mum, who was being slandered. Even though the letter hurt deeply, I now knew the techniques of mind control the cult used on its members. We had lived in the same environment that surrounded Dad and it was hard for us to blame him for his reaction.
A few weeks later we went to meet Gillian Duckworth, who lived in one of the most exclusive parts of London. Her daughter had recently joined the Family. She was pregnant, and Gillian was concerned over the unborn child's future in an abusive cult. She hoped we could show her daughter the truth and help her to change her mind about the Family. Gillian was very welcoming, but nervous. Over lunch with Gillian and her daughter, Mum started to tell her story, but the daughter would not listen. Mum thought I might be less threatening. I explained what my childhood had been like, that parents had no rights over their children, as the shepherds were in total control.
Gillian "s daughter listened, but said nothing.
We had brought some cult literature, including my copies of Heaven's Girl and Heaven's Children. I explained how both Berg's daughters and his granddaughter Mene had accused him of having sexual relations with them, and I showed her a drawing of Berg naked in bed with Maria and Techi. I outlined his perverted and incestuous behaviour, which included writing about his fantasy of having sex with his mother. After about two hours, Gillian "s daughter left agitated and angry. Her mother
then told us she was going to file for custody of her unborn grandchild, and asked if we would help her by providing evidence. We agreed at once.
Gillian petitioned the court that children in the cult were beaten, denied food, humiliated, forced to stay silent and bullied by adults and peers. I became a key witness in this case, which became one of the longest custody trials in British legal history.
While the court case was in its early stages, the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas, went up in flames after a bungled FBI raid, and eighty-six people died, including their leader and prophet, David Koresh. The publicity worried the Family, and they decided to file a defense with the court. But their leaders refused to give evidence in person and face cross-examination.
One morning, I threw up on the way to school. I knew at once I was pregnant, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. By now Bryan and I had split up and I used to hang around with one of my best friends, Jason. I asked him to phone Mum, as I could not face hearing the disappointment in her voice. He told her the news, and she promised she would not be angry and asked him to bring me home. The pregnancy tests were all positive. I went for my first check up and the doctor said I had about two weeks to decide if I wanted an abortion. I knew Christians considered this was murder. But what did I think? I was not used to making choices and this was one of the hardest decisions of my life.
One morning I would wake up and think, Maybe I should have an abortion, to have a career. An hour later, I would think, I want this child. One night, I dreamed of a little boy and, when I woke up, the indecision was over. I had connected with Ty baby and it was no longer just a fetus. I told Mum, "I'm going to have him."
I called Bryan and told him I had something important to say. We arranged to meet in the park.
"I'm pregnant," I announced.
Once the news sunk in, Bryan seemed pleased.
"I'll be the best father in the world," he promised, smiling from ear to ear. He begged me to take him back. I was impressed. Only someone who loved me would be so happy at the news, I thought.
Before that, I had not told him much about my past. When I did tell him what had happened tome, he cried, but he said, "I never want to talk about this again." It was too painful for him knowing this about me. I understood that, but nevertheless his reaction worried me.
Despite his promises, Bryan made no attempt to find us a house, and I was still living at home. I heard rumors he was going out with other girls, but I decided to give him another chance. I wanted my child to have a father.
Out of the blue, Debbie, one of the teens I knew from India, phoned. Her family had very recently left the cult and we chatted for hours. We had so much in common with each other and spoke the same "language." I felt less alone. I was not surprised to discover that the cult was still treating children cruelly. Debbie's younger brother, Eman, told me about his experiences in one of the teen training camps in the UK. I was filled with horror at the extreme methods being used at these new camps.
Some eighty teens had been told to write down the names of the four people they thought were the least spiritual and most worldly. One morning they were ushered into the meeting hall where the chairs had been arranged in a large circle. Four of the teens were made to sit in four chairs placed strategically in the center of the room. The Home shepherd roared, 'We have read the reports from all of you, and four names kept coming up repeatedly." He paused for effect. "They have been condemned, not by us your shepherds"—he scanned the room full of terrified teens and pointed his finger at them—"they have been condemned by you!"
He had then read out the reports on the four. Their offences included reading an encyclopedia, wanting to be a scientist, wearing jeans, and styling their hair too much—a sign of worldliness. The boy who had committed the sin of hair styling had his head shaved. They were isolated in the shed for weeks, given hard-labor jobs, and beaten at regular intervals.
A week later Eman spotted one of the boys in the shower, bloodied, black, and blue. He had many such stories to tell. One young boy had seen his brother drown and his grief was
interpreted as demon possession; they gagged him for months, only removing the tape from his mouth to let him eat. Eman's mother was not allowed to know the location of her children and was given only limited and restricted communication with them. That contributed to her decision to leave soon afterwards.
These stories only strengthened my determination to somehow right the wrongs done to the children of the Family. Debbie and Eman also joined the fight for justice and gave evidence during the court case. When I walked into the courtroom on the first day and was met by the sea of faces, I almost turned round and walked out. I had not yet gained much confidence in my day-to-day life, but once in the wit-ness box, I had the confidence of absolute certainty. I felt like a soldier fighting for truth and justice.
After three days of intense cross-examination, the defense barrister was becoming more and more agitated because he could find no holes in my testimony. As the last day wore on, I felt his tone became more demeaning and that he belittled the trauma I had experienced. He flippantly suggested that surely I did not think they still adhered to such practices. Emotionally raw and exhausted, being seven months pregnant, I finally broke down and cried in frustration.
"This all started with David Berg! He's the one who decided it all!" I said in indignation. "It's all his prophecy, so how can he suddenly change it all? Is he saying it's all wrong, saying that he made a mistake? Where's all the counseling for the victims he's made? Has he done anything to help stop the suffering that has happened and will keep on happening?"
The judge got some tissues and handed them to the official for me. I looked over at Gillian Duckworth and she gave me a look of encouragement, in contrast to her daughter, who sat staring stony-faced at the floor. I wiped my eyes and continued.
"How can it have changed?" I asked. "It's changed on the outside so that we don't persecute them. It hasn't changed his heart. It hasn't changed his mind. It's just made things more covered up, more secretive, that's all. He hasn't said sorry for any of the things he started in the first place. People are still suffering for what he's done to us. It'll be with me for the rest of my life, I know that. If you do wrong to someone or thousands of people, you should help if you really believe in your heart that you've done wrong and I don't believe he does."
I was the longest witness in that box, being cross-examined for four long days. The judge was kind and assuring, giving me breaks when I became emotional or started to cry. He described me in his judgment as "a very important wit-ness." Later, he ruled:
Time and time again, I was impressed with the wealth of detail which came pouring out in a way which did not suggest either invention or the recounting of the experiences of others. There were too many occasions when she was given the opportunity to embellish facts to the disadvantage of The Family and refrained from doing so. She gave credit where credit was due. (Lord Justice Ward, 1995)
Two months later we were having a family meal at our grandparents' house one weekend when I started having slight contractions. They began to come every fifteen minutes and I could not get hold of Bryan, so Auntie Caryn drove me to hospital. I was wheeled into the maternity suite. I wanted Mum with me, but she had to stay with the kids. At one in the morning, Bryan turned up.
They broke my waters and gave me an epidural, both of which were extremely painful. Exhausted, I fell asleep. I was woken at seven in the morning.
"Miss Jones," the nurse said, "your contractions are very close now The baby's almost read?
I just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. The nurse laughed and said it was it was very unusual for a woman tole sound asleep during labor. I turned and gazed into Bryan's eyes, which were full of joy, and felt like this was the happiest, yet most daunting moment of my life.
At 8.25 a.m., I gave birth to a little boy with curly dark hair. His father and I were both moved to tears as they put him on my stomach. Jordan was born
on September 13, 1992. I loved him instantly. He was absolutely adorable—and still is.
I was happy, happier than I thought possible after so many years in a dark and manipulative cult; but always at the back of my mind was the thought—We have to find Celeste. She has to know the freedom I now enjoy—freedom I will never take for granted.
Chapter 17
Celeste
After Dad's close call with the British Embassy in Japan, we were aware that every British consulate had instructions to look out for me. For Dad, there was no question of going back to England to fight it out in court. He hated England and leaving the mission field was worse than death for him.
"Now that your passport is renewed we don't have to worry, we can lay low until you are of legal age," he said with some relief.
Dad had always talked about going back to India if he was ever given the choice, and now that he was free from World Services, he announced to Julie and me at the dinner table, "I've decided to go back to the mission field of India. You know I've always had a love for India."
Not Without My Sister Page 21
