Philadelphia, PA
zadaleon@gmail.com
My name when I was in the Church was Zada Doak (now Leon). I grew up in San Diego, California and my mother joined the Worldwide Church of God when I was 5 or 6 years old. She was brought into the Church by my Uncle Jim (James Doak, her younger brother) who became a Preaching Elder in the Church. My mother raised us using her maiden name after her divorce from my father when I was 2 (hence my having the same last name as my Uncle Jim).
Growing up in the Church was miserable for us as young children. Not only because we couldn’t celebrate birthdays (and my mother sent back any gifts we got from family for our birthdays or Christmas until they just stopped sending us anything at all or even talking to us), but because at school my brother and I had to sit in the Principals office whenever our classes were doing things like making Valentine’s decorations, Halloween decorations, etc. We were made fun of and laughed at all the time because of these differences. Whenever we had to take off the 2 weeks for the Feast of Tabernacles, we had to take tons of school books and homework with us to complete during the days of the Feast so we wouldn’t fail in our classes. Christmas was the worst. When other kids came back from Christmas vacation and talked about what they got, we always just hung our heads and said our family didn’t celebrate Christmas. It made us freaks at school. We were not allowed to have any friends that were outside the Church. If we tried, my mother broke the friendships up. The only school dance I ever went to was my Senior Prom, after getting permission from the minister in our Church and after assuring him that the boy was just a friend and I had no romantic interest in him (which was true anyway). I had to be home by midnight, so we left the prom at 11pm in order to be on time. I’m still surprised they allowed me to go. I’m more surprised that the boy I went with put up with it all.
I was accepted to Ambassador College in Bricket Wood in 1974 as my first year of college. I actually knew Ronald Weinland, he was a Sophomore when I was a Freshman there. My mouth feel open earlier this evening when I found a blog about him and his book of predictations. I never saw this in him during that time, he seemed like a nice, normal enough guy. I just now got out my 1974 Envoy to look at his picture. I’m still in shock about what I’ve read about him tonight. Anyway, I transferred to the Pasadena campus for my Sophomore year because my mother had had a small heart attack and I wanted to be closer to home.
I had been baptized in the Church when I was 17. I had asked to be baptized mostly because it would make my Mom and my Uncle Jim proud of me, not because I really felt like I was truly spiritual. My Uncle Jim was a fairly high ranking minister of the Church, so it was important to my Mom that my brother and I were a “real” part of the Church. She couldn’t wait to get to church that first Saturday after I got baptized to brag about it to her friends.
We used to attend Church in Craftman’s Hall in San Diego. I can still see the place in my mind. I grew to hate that place. Just a year or so before I left for Bricket Wood, the Sabbath services were changed to a place that was closer to my home, a meeting room in a hotel or a club (I honestly can’t recall).
I hated how the ministers told us what we could wear, how long our skirts had to be, that we couldn’t wear makeup (HARLOT!) then later changed it to we could, then they changed it again. We were told what soap we could use, what food we could eat, not to see doctors, the control was overwhelming. You cannot believe the extent of control they exerted over the members. In fact, when I had to get a booster shot for smallpox to get my visa to attend Bricket Wood (and I had to or I couldn’t have gone), the minister anointed me with oil and prayed over me, asking that the shot not take affect and for God to cleanse the medicine out of my body. I kid you not.
The Holy Days, especially the Day of Atonement were days I grew to loathe. I couldn’t see the sense in making people light headed and so hungry and miserable that after enduring those long services, all we did was go home and lay like limpets on the couch or on the floor, watching the sky outside the window, hoping the sun would just hurry up and set so we could eat. It really was torture.
During my Sophomore year at Ambassador College, my Uncle Jim left the church, and a lot of the members in his congregation followed him. He later told me that he just couldn’t stomach the things that Garner Ted was doing (sleeping with the other ministers wives and other women in the church) and the other things that were going on that he decided not to tell me about (but we all heard the rumors anyway. And when you’re Uncle is a high ranking minister in the Church, you get to hear it all). To the best of my knowledge, my mother never spoke to him again after he left. After he died, she said she wished she had, but of course it was too late.
I got married on the Ambassador College Pasadena campus to a “non-believer”, and the ministers refused to marry us (I’m now divorced). I’m surprised we were allowed to use one of the musical recital halls to get married in. We just called for a minister out of the yellow pages, who came and conducted the wedding. My cousin Susan Doak (Uncle Jim’s daughter) was still in the Church and was a student at Pasadena…she was one of my bridesmaids (she later left the Church, of course). I was also surprised that I wasn’t tossed out of the church for doing that, but by this stage, I was rarely going to Church anymore, although I hadn’t let my mother know that yet. I think it was another 2 years of pretending I was going before I finally told her I had quit. I was scared to tell her, and with good reason. She talked to the minister in her Church, and to my shock, she was allowed to continue talking to me and seeing me. ; She told me that if the minister had told her to cut me out of her life like she had her brother, she would have. Nothing that the Church had done up to this point hurt me as much as hearing my mother say that to me.
My mother stayed in the Church until she died. It had splintered by then into other churches, and I’m not sure which one she was in. She was in a nursing home by then and didn’t go to Church anymore anyway because of being in the home, but she remained faithful to the day she died. We just agreed to not discuss religion. I was always so angry at the Church because of what it did to my mother. She had been divorced when she joined, and because of that, she was told she could never remarry. She never did. She spent the last 30 years of her life alone once my brother and I left home, when she should have been able to find someone to love her and share her life with.
For that alone, I will never forgive The Worldwide Church of God, Herbert W. Armstrong or any of them that ruined my family. It took me years to realize that the stubbornness and rebellion I feel towards any authority is because of the total control of this Church and its ministers. To this day, I do not handle being told what to do very well. It has caused a lot of damage.
I will admit this: I was happy when I heard that Herbert W. Armstrong had died, and even MORE happy when I heard Garner Ted had died. It’s terrible to say, but that’s how I honestly feel. What’s interesting, is that I have both of their signatures in an old autograph book I used to carry around to get people at church to sign. I’ve kept it because it helps remind me how far I’ve come.
I recently connected with quite a few people I grew up with in the Church. None are in it anymore, but it’s good to be able to talk about all this with people who truly understand what it was like. It’s hard for people who haven’t experienced something like this to understand. If you’ve never endured that brainwashing and control like we did, you can’t possibly “get it”. I’m always asked “why didn’t you or your family just leave”? Because we all felt we couldn’t, it was all we knew. How sad is that, I ask you?
Thank you for allowing me to say all this.
Sincerely,
Zada Doak Leon
I’m so sorry, Zada, for what you had to go through. You brought a tear to my eyes. I hope that some day, rotting Herbert and rotting Ted, and all the rest of those damn “ministers” will PAY!!
Thank you. I’m the most angry about my Mother being so alone all those years of her life. Such a waste of the only life we have.
I also remember someone in the Church making paddles for church members (about 1/2 inch thick, with a nice, sturdy handle on them)…my Mom broke it over my brother’s butt. We had to bend over and grab our knees when we got spanked. I actually remember calling the minister one day to brag that I had been soooo good, I hadn’t gotten spanked that day! How sad is that?
I also went to the summer camp the Church had up in Minn. I got to take my first airplane flight to go there (I think I was 15). The girls and boys each had cabins on opposites of the lake (if I remember it correctly), and we had chores, but there was actual fun too. I clearly remember Garner Ted coming up and hosting a sing along by the campfires, and we were all so thrilled because GARNER TED was there! We were all like groupies or something. I also remember the counselor in my cabin actually SPANKING me because we had been told NOT to speak at night for any reason after the lights went out. One night, us girls heard wolves howling, and we whispered about how it scared us. The next morning, the counselor asked if anyone had talked after the lights went out, and I (like a fool) raised my hand and was honest, saying we were scared, etc. I got spanked in front of everyone in the cabin (3 swats) with one of those big wooden paddles. It was so humilitating. Funny how when I got home, all I could remember was the FUN. Sad, sad, sad.
I am surprised at how emotional I still am about all this crap. I thought I had outgrown it or gotten over it. I clearly haven’t.
Btw, I have a picture of myself and Ronald Weinland at Bricket Wood in my photo album. I’m going to look him up on the web, I had no idea he turned out like he has. Wow.
Your story was very moving. I’m a 1960 Ambassador graduate who left in the mid-seventies. I led both my sister and my parents into the organization. I knew your uncle, and my oldest son had a crush on a daughter of his. Jim squelched that when he tried to contact her years later. My children suffered similar lives to yours in their early years. I’ve written my story down and published it. If you would like to read it, I’ll send you my Word file. My email address is: phylandal@qwestoffice.net.
Your story was very sad, im a little younger then you but its interesting how I found the general theme of your story to be so similar to my own. I remember having those same feelings. School, Holydays etc.
It’s sad to read stories like this. I feel sometimes like nobody would possibly understand what the church was like – and how I was raised – that I don’t even bother trying. When I do tell people, it shocks them and makes them angry.
I grew up in the church as well. I went to Imperial Schools (in Pasadena, CA) for 10 years, starting from its reopening in 1980-81. Having experienced kindergarten in a public school, and having to be kept out of holiday activities, I do remember some of what that’s like. But going to the church’s school for 10 years wasn’t my idea of a good time, either. Either way, the most I got out of it was fear- be afraid of God, be afraid of the ministers, be afraid of your parents. It’s amazing we’re not all locked up in looney bins at this point.
I no longer go to church. My last walk inside a church was the Feast of 1994. I pretty much don’t buy into organized religion. I’m not willing to do what some guy with a suit and tie tells me to do- I can read the bible just as well as he can. As long as I am a good person, that’s all that matters.
OMG Zada.. I just read about the paddle. My mom was best friends with the minister’s wife in our congregation. She was a mean lady, LOL. She had somebody make her a thick wooden paddle with holes in it… this is in Los Angeles, so maybe you all made her this paddle? (poor thing!) Supposedly the holes made the thing move faster or hit harder.. and she used it on her daughter plenty! Well somewhere (maybe from you? Just teasin!) my mom decided we needed a paddle.. only I think ours was smooth wood with no holes. My dad broke it on my behind once. After that, I dont’ think he spanked me again. My mom kept it up til I was 16. Nice, huh?)
Imperial Schools was all about the corporal punishment. Parents had to sign a waiver giving permission to let their kids be spanked. My dad didn’t sign it, but they didn’t care.. they spanked anyway.
Wow, your story really rings true with me, as all your experiences mirror my own. I still have the paddle made by a carpenter church member that my mother used on us kids all those years ago.
One difference though with me was that I truly believed at the time that the church was 100% right. It wasn’t until I was attending Ambassador College in 1973 that I began to question if this was the true church. At least when I finally woke up, it was easier to reject all religion since I had been already taught that all the other religions were wrong.
I stumbled across this site this afternoon and read your story. I didn’t grow up in WWCoG but married someone who was raised in the Church since the age of 4 and left at he age of 20. He has told me seveval stories of his childhood that are similar to the things you mentioned here. I still find it shocking to know that you and others were treated like this in the name of “religion”. Thank you for sharing your story.
Zada, I have copied a portion your letter “I was scared to tell her, and with good reason. She talked to the minister in her Church, and to my shock, she was allowed to continue talking to me and seeing me. ; She told me that if the minister had told her to cut me out of her life like she had her brother, she would have. Nothing that the Church had done up to this point hurt me as much as hearing my mother say that to me.”
As a reminder that I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE!!!!!! It was your mother in this case but my father in mine.. I TRULY thought that he was not going to talk to me after I left the church.. I am in my 40′s now and I still have not bared my thoughts of this betrayal !!! I am of course now an agnostic and could not imagine giving my children the thought that ANYTHING IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THEM!!!!
I hope to someday confront my father with your words .. so that he knows it’s REAL and not just a random thought from HIS daughter..
THANK YOU ..
I LOVE MY FATHER .. But I’m still working on the scars.. they affect EVERY PORTION of my life.. I have to now raise children .. who have an open mind and will not be interned into a CULT but yet have spirituality.. It’s a hard line to walk.. I hope you are doing well with your walk
Comment removed: preaching/proseltyzing
How moving Zada. I was young during the Garner Ted years and wasn’t spared either under the doctrine promoting child abuse (GTA had a booklet promoting it). That the existing organization or the splinter groups haven’t “sighed and cried” in proportion to the severity of regular beatings we had as children is yet further proof of their lack of integrity, their poverty of reason, and their utter ignorance…and heartlessness.
I hold the leaders responsible. They are like war criminals. And they soldier on dependent on the groups of followers who depend on being controlled.
I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. I have too much heart for that…and a memory for the decades of abuse.
Religion is dead to me. I’m glad to be alive and thriving in the real world. I am heavy with sadness for the sufferings of so many. May the chains of ignorance and abuse continue to be broken, and may the leaders go to the hell of their creation. They are as despicable as Hitler. I don’t live a live of rage, but will mindfully cast them into their fitting place of torment.
A Free Man
(Secular Humanist, Bright, Mensan
Former AU grad, AU faculty)
Comment removed: trollish.
All I can say is wow! Did you live my life or what… Anyways I completley understand what you went thru, in 1979 or 1980 a friend and I were workers at orr when we were told to go to the “bugabo” and get several cases of beer and bring them to a party that GTA and others were at. After we brought the beer in the cabin we saw several obvious “young”girls, drinking with the adults there. We were 15 at the time and GTA gave us a six pack for our trouble and sent us on our way.
Several weeks later we had the privlage to see GTA arrested, handcuffed and hauled off by the sheriffs.
Thanks for the memorys!
I read your story how heart breaking to be put thru such an ordeal, at such a young age, I am married to a member of the worldwide church of god, and I see all the tale tale signs of cult control even today if the preacher calls, he doesnt ask can you do this, he says do this and my husband jumps to what ever it is, it could be just a phone call, but because he knows he can get someone else to do it, he will, its terrible, this is truly a cult and it has not changed, I see this in the members, the preacher and his wife think they are superior and everybody else is inferior to them, I was attending but, I see the deception, I feel sad for all the families that went thru this. Also I have a sister that raised her 2 children to be in the kingdom hall and from the sound of your story that is what she did to her children, there all grow up and want nothing to do with her now. There so angry over her abuse and the fact she didnt let them have a education and never gave them any gifts, its like she had them to use as slaves. So Sad I hope we all find peace in our lifes in the end.
If you read some ex Jehovah’s Witnesses stories, you will see that you are not alone. You could almost take out the name WWCofGod and insert Watchtowers society in any of these accounts.
I grew up in world wide as well, and my family currently attends UCG.
I had some similar experiences (however not as bad as those who were teens in the church during the ’70s and 80′s, I was a teen during the 90′s).
It’s funny that the common them I see here is an absolute disdain for authority, and annimosity toward their parents (I still have both).
I’m not sure what my spritual future is however, I hope and pray to not be a stubborn jackass when I become a parent, and to never buy into the bs athoritarian attitude that permiatted my folks minds.
I am not giving up on my faith, I was fortunate to know some families that did not do the authoritarian thing and am amazed at how their family has turned out as opposed to mine.
Reading your account of how you received “swats” as a child has kindled some memories I have as a student at AC Pasadena in the late sixties. I remember having a meal in the Student Center with a group of other students. I can’t remember their names because we weren’t allowed to sit next to anybody we wanted to, because where we sat was governed by somebody whose job it was be sure to seat us next to those we didn’t know. You couldn’t even sit with a friend for lunch. Christ on a crutch, what kind of a place was that?? Anyway, there was this girl, a student who worked at Imperial as a part of her campus job, who excitedly related a heartwarming story she had witnessed earlier in the day at Imperial where a young boy got swats. It was at the natatorium where the kids were taking swimming lessons and they were learning to use a high diving board. One young boy refused to jump off the board because he was just plain scared. The instructor made him bend over and, with the kid wearing a wet bathing suit, administered a good solid whack that sounded like a rifle shot as it reverberated off the walls. Her eyes danced with excitement as she described the paddle and–I still remember this–the holes drilled in it to make it more effective. The instructor shouted to the kid to get up on that board and dive in the pool, and the boy answered, “no, sir” with tears streaming down his face. So he got another whack. And this was repeated another three or four times until the boy couldn’t stand the pain any longer. So he climbed up the ladder to the diving board and jumped in. He got out of the pool and repeated the jump again and again without being asked to do so. As she told the story, the rest of the students at our table (me too) were all amazed at how appropriate the corporal punishment was, because the rebellious kid overcame his fear of the diving board.
As a nation, we all could benefit from this lesson because we could abandon waterboarding altogether and adopt the methods of Herbert W. Armstrong and his Imperial schools. Shut down Guantanamo and apply the techniques of the Worldwide Church of God, and we’d have those terrorists talking in no time flat!
Zada.. I have come to realize that you didn’t mean *your* family made the paddles.. that somebody else did, and your parents got a hold of one. So I apologize for any confusion.. I just misread what you wrote, and mistakenly teased you when there was no reason to. If I ever find out what sadistic @$*! DID make those paddles….. well, they don’t want to meet me!!
Zada,
My friend Steph (see above) forwarded me your link. After reading your story and the comments, I continue to be amazed at how widespread this church and its teachings were! I, like Steph, grew up in Pasadena, attended Imperial, my father was employed at AC and Imperial and I had the perverse pleasure of spending my Saturday’s in the Auditorium. Heck, I was even born on the AC campus! How I have managed to live a semi-normal life is currently beyond my comprehension.
The experiences we all seem to share with unbelievable similarity, at the time feel so lonely. I am so amazed that it didn’t matter what state you attended services in, what country, whatever – the level of brainwashing that this church accomplished on such a large scale is simply astounding! Someone needs to do a documentary on this! Or a class-action suit, one of the two at the very least!
My father still attends, but I don’t know much about the way it is now – he doesn’t seem to speak of it much. He thankfully doesn’t look down on me for not going to any church at all. I can’t imagine my parent telling me that they would have abandoned me because of some religion. I am so sorry for what you have been through.
I posted this as well under another persons post, but it seems appropriate here as well.
I guess I’m at the age now that I am better able to “live and let live”. I don’t care about organized religion at all, and I don’t want to deal with it anymore (and I did try the Catholic church after I started missing a spiritual connection about 10 years after leaving the WCG). But I do understand other people’s need for a “church” or “religion”. I don’t agree with it, but I can allow them to have it without going crazy. Although, I will be honest, I think Islam is a very destructive religion and a lot of crazy people gravitate towards it. Talk about controlling people!!!!
Do I believe in God? Yes, I have to say I do. Do I pray? Yes, I do…..but at home, in private or in my head, but I never, ever say anything about it to others and I cant’ stand it when people try to shove religion, God, or anything else down my throat. And it’s not really because I don’t believe in God…it’s because I have real issues with authority or being “told” what to do or being “manulipated” in anyway. I get stubborn and either fight back or run as fast as I can (usually I fight first! lol).
I hate, hate, hate what the WCG did to me, my family and my views on life (you can see my posts when you scroll down). I absolutely am rebellious now, and probably always will be, when people try to control me in any way. I have an instantaneous knee jerk reaction when anyone tries it. Makes me crazy! lol…..and I do mean madder than a hornet. I won’t put up with it, not for a second.
Thankfully I never turned to drugs or alcohol, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t as messed up as everyone else in this blog. I channel a lot of it now into writing, which has been good for me in so many ways.
It will always color my life. There is no getting away from that. It’s made me who I am today. Do I wish it were different? I don’t know, to be honest…..I’m ok with the person I am today. I like myself a lot more than I used to. Would I if I hadn’t been raised in the WCG? Would I be who I am? Would I be writing and would I be “me”? I will never know the answer to that. But today, I am ok with who I am and where I’m still going.
Sure, I would never wish this on anyone else, and thankfully have been able to protect my daughter from crap like this. But to be honest…would my eyes be as open as they are now, would I have the views I have now, without my past? I doubt it. I think I am a better person NOW than I would have been without the WCG…..if you get my meaning. I have my eyes more open to things and the world, I view things with more honestity than I would have, and I am not so easy to fool as I might have been without my past.
I believe each of us has to find peace, our inner resolve and our emotional base in their own way. Others can’t tell you how to do that, only you can. Knowing others are out there, you are not the only one, helps a lot, in my opinion. You are not alone.
Btw, the paddles my Mom used on us didn’t have holes in it. I think, for me, that paddle wasn’t as bad as when she got the bright idea to use ping pong paddles (when the big one was broken over my brother Martin’s behind). Those ping pong paddles sting like bee stings, and we had to bend over either the bed or grab our knees or ankles to be spanked, which opens up your hinny to the really soft inner skin. I still steam whenever I think about that!
OH! ONE GOOD THING….the other night, my daughter was in my face about something, and I told her that I felt like smacking her silly (I said it, didn’t do it, of course)………she looked me right in the eye and said: “You would never hurt me.”
That made me tear up and cry. I was so thankful that I have such a great kid and that I never, ever did to her what was done to me! THANK GOD!!! I was awed by the trust my daughter had that I wouldn’t ever hurt her in anyway.
I think I’m turning out ok after all.
HI Zada – I knew you briefly at AC in Pasadena, and was friends with your cousin Susan for awhile, we dated once or twice. I recently found this site and recognized your name, and I am moved by all you have written and even more moved by the things you have experienced. My own growing up in WCG compares pretty closely, even though we all have different stories in some respects. For a long time I wondered, often angrily, what the purpose was of so many wrong and bad things. My mother was a “spiritual widow” as they were called, very poor, we went to the Feast many times when all she had was $100. in her purse – we lived on peanut butter and crackers. Until I was older I never even realized that “rejoicing” could include wonderful dinners in fine restaurants! To my recollection no one either helped her or cared except other poor women and old ladies who led similar lives. I saw her treated miserably as a single woman, a poor woman, one who had little or nothing to contribute to the general wealth of the church. Some things still make me very angry, but I have finally come to the point where I realize I cannot reconcile it with either common sense or the scriptures. I chalk it up to, if not a great life, at least an interesting life, and I try to use it for good to encourage others when I can. I am really happy to read of your own processes and how far you have come. I would love to hear how Susan is doing – meanwhile, my best to you both. I am doing great, have a beautiful family, and enjoying life more and more.
Found this site just browsing around the net. I attended imperial school in England in the 1970′s. What a joy that was. One of my most remembered childhood events was being beaten with a cricket bat by Mr. King until I ‘didn’t cry anymore”. I believe I was five or six at the time. My crime for such a harsh punishment?? My coat falling off of it’s hook in the coat room. My teacher (Mrs. Bodanchick), my older brother, and the rest of the students had to look on in horror as this monterous man hit me over and over with this bat until I couldn’t cry anymore. Does anyone know if Mr. King is still living?
I’m sorry to everyone of you whose lives have been affected by this wicked cult!
~Elaine~
Elaine, I didn’t realize Mrs. Bogdanchick taught at the Imperial Schools in England as well? When Imperial in California opened up, she was there.. she was a second grade teacher. (I still have a post card she sent me LOL). I am so sorry for what you went through. I have no idea who this Mr. King is, but chances are, he’s not around anymore.. certainly not teaching kids, as I’d assume he’d be well beyond retirement at this point. Sadly, he isn’t the only one like that. “Spare the rod, spoil the child”. Only, many of the adults/parents/teachers really lived by that rule.. to the extreme. How did you like Mrs. B as a teacher? I seem to recall she was a pretty good spanker herself, though not at all like Mr. King as you described him.
My email has changed. It’s now: zadaleon@gmail.com
I was born into the Worldwide Church of God (Houston East) in 1976. …
This comment has been moved to its own article. Click here.
Jeffery,
Your comment really deserves its own post— may I make one for it?
Robert,
Yes, you can.
If you’d like to comment on Jeffery’s comment, you can do so here.
Zada, I have updated your e-mail in your article.
Zada
I too am a non-believing wcg survivor and was breifly in your Cousin Susan’s class (as a junior in Imperial). My story is to painful to fully recite and unfortunately is not over. I guess the short story is the teachings of HWA killed my dad and imprisoned my mom.
I wish I had arrived at non-belief longer ago than I did.