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Messages - mac10k

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I don't recall Ms. Patrick, but I do remember Ms Lori the redheaded PE teacher and Ms. Maggie. I never met the Weatherfords, they had been gone for at least a year by the time I went in, Mrs Cameron was runing the show and was already set in the ways of beating us. It was either kiss her ass or feel her wrath.

I have no doubt that some girls found their way to God in the home and it probably did change a few lives, but for me it made my life worse. I did not have any emotional issues or behavioral issues at home. I did when I came out. Not behavoral but certainly emotional. I've never been able to really get close to anyone since my time there. Any close bonds I had with any of the girls resulted in Mrs. Cameron seperating us, so I learned early on not to get to close to anyone there.

I attribute my time there for making me less social, for making me feel more comfortable in my bedroom than anywhere else in my house or anywhere outside my house. I refuse to wear and own no dresses or skirts and would not be caught dead in church for any reason.

My family's thoughts on the subject are, it's been 24 years, get over it, but I don't think any of us really do ever get over what we experienced there. The only thing that has changed in their minds about my experiences are that now they believe the stories I told them when I came home after reading this forum.

I'm glad I found this site and that there are other girls out there like me who have experienced the wrath of the Camerons and know what I've been through.

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Quote
On 2004-06-17 15:11:00, Anonymous wrote:

"hi, Terri,  I was in Rebekah in 1978. I live just about an hour north of Houston.

I too remember so much of this, and have struggled to heal and be who I am.

[email protected]



Were you there with the Cameron's?[ This Message was edited by: mac10k on 2004-06-17 19:30 ]

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I lived in the home under the Cameron's care. I can vouch for many things that happened there and see other things said that supposedly happened during those years and know they are false. My name is Terry and I spent quite a bit of time in the lockup and also in the infirmary because of ulcers developed from the stress. I was never on drugs, never drank, was not sexually active, my only "sin" was trying to leave an abusive home. Out of the frying pan into the fire. Mrs. Cameron did not like me from the beginning, even going as far as to take away the plants my family sent me.

During the time I was there the worst punishment I remember going through was kneeling in the hallway one night until Noel confessed to having defecated in a baggie and putting it in another girls bathroom cabinet. Noel was the youngest girl in the dorm and pretty much got away with murder, we were finally allowed to go to bed after several hours of kneeling, but I don't recall her punishment being more than a few days in lock up.

I was also forced to kneel in the front room at the desk and write sentences every afternoon because I dared to tell another girl about the rape I had endured before being brought to the home. Mrs. Cameron called me a liar and made me write 250 sentences a day until I confessed to lying about the most traumatic event to happen in my life. The entire reason I was sent there was because my mother could not endure the shame of having her friends and church know that her daughter ran away trying to escape her abuse and was raped. So she sent me there, to have Mrs. Cameron continue the abuse I received at home. Mostly verbal but she did slap me across the face a few times when I questioned her about things.

I remember being called into Mrs. Camerons office after watching the movie about hell (can't remember the name) and not getting saved once it was over. She ordered me to have the older girls lead me in prayer and beg God to let me be saved. I did it, but did not believe, and because of the way the home was run am today an agnostic.

I too, remember the daily session of Bible memorization and the many demerits I received for "mumbling my scripture". I had just had my braces removed before going in the home and had learned to talk without moving my lips because of the braces cutting the inside of my mouth. I would sit beside the helpers so they could hear me repeating my scriptures and still received demerits.

I remember the constant treks to church, 10 times a week, if my memory serves me correctly, not including the daily sermons through the room speakers. I remember the hall walkers checking our Bibles to make sure we were following along with sermon and receiving demerits if we weren't on the right chapter and verse.

I remember the slip check on the way to church and school. Having our names checked off the clipboard as we filed out to go any where.

I remember the old girls telling stories about running and how a girl had run and they turned dogs loose on her and brought her back to the home. They warned us new girls that running was futile, the townies knew us on sight and would bring us back if they saw us on the street.

During my time there we had to go to the airstrip to greet Bro. Roloff as he flew in, there was a photographer there and we had to rush to the plane acting like we couldn't wait to be in his presence.

The only "chemicals" I ever saw passed out was Epsom salts to my room captain Chris. I never skipped a period while I was there even though I did drop several dress sizes.The only "beatings" I received was the usual paddling given when I received too many demerits for the week. I missed a lot of the films shown in the cafeteria due to room and big job demerits.

I too remember the windows, not cemented during my time, but alarmed. Never allowed to be opened, the curtains closed, lest we stare at the Anchor boys. I remember not beng allowed to leave our rooms except for designated times, like big jobs or to go to eat or school and the never ending church sessions. Hallwalkers shining flashlights in our eyes every few hours a night during bed checks. The monthly trip to the dorm store to buy cheesy pantyhose and toothpaste.

I remember the grapefruit in boxes out in the rec area by the ping pong table after the girls came back from the valley. We walked along Rebekah Beach eating the fruit, one of the few things we could eat our fill of besides the sunday trout dinner.

While I will agree that the methods used by the Camerons and supposedly sanctioned by Roloff were extreme and did border on mind control I won't proclaim that they were the only ones to blame. My parents sent me there as a 14 year old and refused to listen as I told them what went on in the home. My six month visit was filled by my stories of the time I spent in lock up and facing the wall in the cafeteria. The home broke my spirit and my will, it took me many years to get over what happened to me there but I blame my parents for what I endured.

It has been 24 years since I was there, and I still remember vividly what I went through, I still have my demerit slips and my pace pass certificates. I once had the names of all the girls who were in the home at the same time I was but my mother found it and destroyed it saying I needed to put it in the past where it belonged.

I have a million memories of my time there and of the girls I shared my day to day life with. I miss some of them and hope if they read this and know me they will write and let me know how they are doing in their lives. A few of the girls I remember were Shelley Lewis, Susan Scott and her sister Debbie, Janette Hartzel, Becci Stuhan, Dawn Renee Petersen. Bridgett my first room captain, Jennifer Jones, her sister, and a very tall gangly girl we called Ducky.

If anyone else remembers these girls and was in the home at the same time, I'd love to hear from you.

_________________
Those who live by the sword are shot by those who don't.[ This Message was edited by: mac10k on 2004-06-17 14:24 ]

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