Best of KIT 1991

Best of The 1991 KIT Newsletters

The KIT Newsletter, an Activity of the KIT Information Service, a Project of The Peregrine Foundation

P.O. Box 460141 / San Francisco, CA 94146-0141 / telephone: (415) 821-2090 / (415) 282-2369

KIT Staff U.S.: Ramon Sender, Charles Lamar, Christina Bernard, Vince Lagano, Dave Ostrom;

U.K. : Joy Johnson MacDonald, Ben Cavanna, Leonard Pavitt, Joanie Pavitt Taylor, Brother Witless (in an advisory capacity)

The KIT Newsletter is an open forum for fact and opinion. It encourages the expression of all views, both from within and from outside the Bruderhof. The opinions expressed in the letters we publish are those of the correspondents and do not necessarily reflects those of KIT editors or staff.

-------------- "Keep In Touch" --------------

------------KIT Newsletter, January 1991 Vol. III #1------------

.George Maendel, October 17, 1990: Dear KIT: I was seven years old in the summer of 1956 when the so- called children's clearing house was in operation (I'd never heard this event named before reading about it in KIT). We who were spied upon and reported to be engaging in various proscribed activities, such as watching each other pee or daring to take off our shorts under the covers when we went to bed at night, were isolated from the rest of the children for months, and taken from our normal families. My own family was systematically dismembered, which included sending my parents to Woodcrest and placing the rest of us either in the basement detention center or with other families. Two of my brothers were also sent to Woodcrest, and Mom had the youngest child with her as well. I remember enduring interrogation sessions during which I could only cry and sob. All my normal relationships were suspended as I was kept isolated from the rest of my family and the extended family of which I was a part in the colony. The questioning ended without any sort of resolution, and I was kept isolated from most other members of the group. There were other boys in the basement, but we were not allowed any unsupervised interaction. Later we were allowed to sleep at "home," such as it was, and during the days we used to pack tons of textbooks for shipment to somewhere. It was a very somber and serious time, and we felt like penitent miscreants.

As I see it, my family never recovered fully from this experiences. I do not know how our "crimes" were presented by "them" to our parents, but it was in such manner as made my parents agree that we be separated from them to live in the large basement at another house on the hof. My parents sat on the bed in their room and wept as they agreed to this arrangement. I don't know what they were told that made them agree to such measures. Sometime after I went to live in the basement, my parents and two of my brothers were sent to Woodcrest. I remember standing at the bottom of the basement steps watching my brothers leave.

In all the grovelling apologies that various HSOB leaders have made among the Hutterites, what they did to my family has never been mentioned. What happened to my family then, I am still trying to understand and place in some kind of context and time. Since KIT letters mentioned these events, I have questioned other family members and am surprised at the stories told by those who are willing to talk about what happened then. One tells of the questioner-accuser pounding the table with both fists when trying to elicit a confession to a supposed event that the accused had just described in detail! The described event was always something sexual. In this case, the accused know nothing of the supposed event and could also only cry.

The HSOB hierarchy of that era practiced a heinous form of psychological emasculation upon naive adult members whom they sought to control. There should have been outrage and rebellion, but the wily HSOB hierarchy vilely elicited submission from the adult Hutterites and parents present.

I think the KIT letters are the proper way to deal with these outrages now, because of KIT's neutral position. The HSOB people may still be of the opinion that they did the right thing under the circumstances. It would be dangerous for me to hear that! I have not heard anyone writing from the HSOB to explain or apologize for these actions. It seems to me that KIT provides a perfect place to do so. Thank you for turning some light into these corners and for an intelligent discussion in KIT.

Judy Tsukroff: A letter to Biene and Jonny Mason at Deerspring: Thank you for the stoellen you sent us via Alan Stevenson, and for your response to my letter. I think it unfortunate that you think KIT serves division. Do you know anything about KIT first-hand? Have you personally read all the way through several issues, or at least one? That is the only way you can possibly know what KIT is really about.

I think the HSOB's obsession with unity is divisive. Because of this obsession, information is limited or controlled. When Annie Maendel Hindley visited, she said she was free to read KIT simply by asking the servant for it. That would intimidate me -- I find it very controlling. Or am I misinformed? Is KIT available on a bulletin board where any adult can read it at any time? Or do members have copies to read personally?

Denying what happens, and denying how things really are, is an old Bruderhof custom. That is why KIT exists. We can no longer contain the repressed experiences and feelings that the Bruderhof refused to listen to and/or recognize. KIT is our way of dealing with the realities of our involvement with the Bruderhof which we never had a way to deal with before. I wish you could share it. With loving greetings to you both and your family for the holidays.

Geoff & Phyllis Welham, Dec 12, '90: ...Have just written Roger Allain after reading his letter in the Dec. issue. So much of what he writes echoes our own experiences and conclusions. To read the letters of so many ex-members, to realize how many had the same misgivings about what was going on, also the same fear to speak out. For those that were children in those troubled times, the letters are a help. To understand the confusions and fears brought about by the disappearance of parents, children removed from families, punishments meted out for what? Children made to feel that they were "sinful troublemakers" for reasons that in a more rational society would have been laughed at. Miriam Arnold's letter was most revealing.

To describe KIT letters as "Hate Mail" completely ignores the hurt and damage done to many youngsters so many years ago. The wounds are still there, and the opportunity should be given them to say in no uncertain terms what they experienced. Perhaps more importantly, for those children to be told why they were treated thus -- was it right or wrong? Were the adults concerned misguided, deluded, or what? Are children still being accused of they know not what? Harassed and interrogated until they "confess?"

This was done to one child in our family, for what reasons? Right? Wrong? And permitted by parents who were too scared of the consequences of objecting to such treatment.

FEAR is the one word that seems to be common in the answers of so many when asked "Why did you not speak up? Why let things go on without question? Why let other members suffer for asking the questions that you had but were afraid to ask?"

One conclusion I have come to is that complete "community of goods" -- the "everything in and nothing back" as practised by the HSOB, is wrong (however noble and brotherly it might appear on the face of it). The fact that one had nothing with which to face life outside if expelled or on resigning was a pretty strong incentive to keep one's mouth shut -- not "to rock the boat." Then there was the trauma of separating husband and wife, parents and children, with the "mind-poisoning" that usually accompanied such separating. The describing of the "erring" partner as "sinful," "evil," and forbidding the "faithful" contact with such a one. As happened with our eldest son on our expulsion in Paraguay, he was not permitted to see us off when we departed Asuncion en route for England with the possibility that we would not ever see each other again, and his parents branded as "evil-doers." Why? Because we had asked too many questions. (He was eventually evicted. We are all together and have been for many years.)

I echo Roger's cry "freedom" in spite of all the hardships involved in the years after our expulsion. I would never again put my life WILLINGLY, so completely, into the hands of other men. However noble the cause, political or religious, men do the most diabolical things to one another in the name of love, brotherhood, party unity, church unity and so on. We are a queer expression of the Creator's will: is there any other life form on this planet that does such horrible things to members of its own species? Look around the world -- it's appalling: black vs white, Arab vs. Jew, Moslem vs. Christian, Communist vs. Conservative, Hindu vs. Sikh, ethnic minorities vs. majorities, etc. etc. ad nauseam.

Sorry to be so pessimistic. Something needs to come to this planet greater than men, but somehow I do not see the HSOB as the channel. Warmest regards,

-----------Food For Thought----------

"Doubt is divine, for without it one would not be able to tell the difference between truth and wish fulfillment." (from a reader)

"Why do groups act more stupidly than the people in them?" The problem is that a group adopts norms -- habits of behavior -- and anyone who changes behavior (by evincing or attempting learning) thereby betrays the group and will be punished or ignored accordingly.

Stewart Brand, in "Costa Rica Saves The World," Whole Earth Review, Winter, 1989

------------KIT Newsletter, February 1991 Vol. III #2------------

News : We have heard that the Darius and Lehrer Leute have dismissed the Arnoldleut as Brothers in Faith within the Hutterian Church. This brings up serious questions re: the position of the Schmiedeleut vis-a-vis the Arnoldleut. It is no doubt a very painful situation for all concerned. Although we have been aware of this problem for some time, we sought not to become involved in the controversy. But now that the issue has come to a head, we will print whatever material we feel is newsworthy. The following article describes the relationship between Jakob Kleinsasser, the exiled Elder of the Schmiedeleut, and the Bruderhof (aka 'Arnoldleut').

Jacob J. Wipf: 'Strange Bedfellows' (excerpted by KIT)

Some kind of reconciliation took place in '74 (between the original and newcomer Hutterites in 1974 when the East [The Bruderhof - Ed] repented). The cleavage, however, was only partially healed in that the Lehrer and the Dariusleut would not be wooed. Nor was opinion unanimous among the Schmiedeleut. Some remain aloof and distant to this day. However those who would raise their voices in protest over the recent rapid acceleration in East/West relations would be subject to censure. The Elder Jacob Kleinsasser will brook no non-submission to what he perceives to be the greater good. Thus many are afraid to speak out.

By now Arnold must know that he will never penetrate the Lehrer and Dariusleut. That breach is simply irreparable at this point for the simple reason that Arnold has nothing to offer... It is unlikely he will even sweep the entire Schmiedeleut realm.

1) There are too many that detest the authoritarian measures of both Kleinsasser and Arnold. Sooner or later someone is bound to throw down the gauntlet and withstand Kleinsasser to his face. He has already lost credibility among the Lehrer and Dariusleut, and the displeasure of these two groups over recent developments is bound to strengthen the resolve of those not yet bowing among the Schmeideleut to Kleinsasser's whims.

2) There is a growing perception that the Arnoldleut manifest all the necessary ingredients of a cult. There is increasing awareness that brain-washing and will- breaking techniques are in use, and the people's zombie- like countenances (exactly what they look like -- I've seen two of their communes) is the tell-tale sign.

3) It is recognized that Arnold wants not just an influence among the Hutterites, but wants to consolidate all the colonies under a common purse. Arnold wants real equality among all the Hutterites. No colony could be richer than another. This can only happen where there is one purse and one ultimate head, which position he, Arnold, would (humbly of course) accept.

What this all adds up to is this: if Kleinsasser persists in his plan for total unification with the Arnold group, a split in the ranks of the Schmiedeleut is inevitable. Rumor has it that the thought is not as remote as it may seem.

1: Several months ago, Kleinsasser drew the world's attention upon the Hutterites by violating the Hutterite constitution. The Confession says "Christians must not sue one another at law" and "it is evident that a Christian can neither go to law not to be a judge." This fact is not unknown to the world at large. Note the coverage in 'The Winnipeg Free Press' [see KIT #4 Nov '89 The Mennonite Reporterarticle - ed.]: "Sociologist Victor Peters testified before Mr. Justice Patrick Ferg in Court of Queens Bench that... taking each other to court is contrary to Hutterites' basic doctrine dating back to the early 16th Century." For over 400 years Hutterites have adhered to this article in Peter Ridemann's Confession as reported by the Winnipeg Free Press: "It is unheard-of for Hutterites to turn to a civil court over an internal matter." But how is it then reported in The Winnipeg Sun that "Manitoba Hutterites had their dirty laundry aired in public yesterday," and in the 'Free Press,' "Hutterites need government protection to run their colonies according to their own rules, Kleinsasser said. If it is not given, we're finished." Has anyone ever analyzed that statement? It is absolutely packed with implications.

But this is not the only case that raises its ugly to condemn Kleinsasser. Note the evidence presented to the judge by C & J Jones, the company that manufactures for Kleinsasser: "C & J Jones received settlements of $25,000 from Grand Colony near Newton Landing, $10,000 from Lakeside and an amount he could not remember from Hutterite colonies in Alberta. After the legal fees were paid, the settlements were split with Crystal Springs Colony." In essence, what is being said here is that Kleinsasser received money that came from a lawsuit against other Hutterites. Kleinsasser, then, is clearly in favor of using the legal system when it is at his convenience despite a clear prohibition against such a practice in the constitution that is supposed to be the framework of the Hutterite life. Kleinsasser's heavy entanglement with the lawsuits thus raises widespread and searching questions. In summary, Kleinsasser has opened a can of worms.

2. Kleinsasser's breach of the Hutterite Confession is bound to have dire consequences in upcoming legal battles against the Hutterites. Kleinsasser, in a case that was watched the world over, has provided opponents of the Hutterites with a weapon that they will some day use against the Hutterites. Kleinsasser has told the entire world how much his constitution (on which the colony is based, the Confession) means to the Hutterites. It does not seem to bother him in the least that the Confession condemns his action. That article of the Confession is obviously outdated according to his action. "Oh, but wait a minute," the prosecutor may say next time the Hutterites are summoned to appear in court. "We will not allow you to have your cake and eat it too. You cannot have it both ways. You say your conscience forbids you to do such and such, and yet your Confession (which is the expression of your conscience) also says that no Hutterite is allowed to engage in a lawsuit. Ah, we seem to have a little hypocrisy here. It seems that your conscience is capable of changing when it is convenient for it to do so. You seem to be governed by dollars more than by your conscience."...

People I have talked to are simply astounded by this turn of affairs... But you say only the Schmiedeleut are affected by all this. Whoa, back up a bit. The differences between the two branches of Hutterites do not carry over in the Hutterite church as a whole. There is only one Hutterite church and therefore, the three groups act as one as far as legal matters go. There is an interconnection as long as there is no official break. It is recognized that whatever takes place does so with the consent of the Hutterite church as a whole. Which means that whatever Kleinsasser did is on record as an act by the Hutterite church.

There is only one option available to the Hutterites at this point to undo the damage done by the reckless behavior of Kleinsasser. Because there is this interconnection between the three Hutterite churches, the other two branches are responsible to rectify matters in order to clear themselves of the charge of violating their own constitution. This would mean soundly disciplining Kleinsasser (and his partners in crime) and removing him/them from positions of leadership. Furthermore, the Hutterites as a whole would have to drop and as much as possible undo the lawsuits responsible for the reproach, and with that go on public record in renouncing Kleinsasser's folly. Not to do so makes both the Darius and the Lehrerleut culpable by association and implication' and it will be only a matter of time before this whole affair will bring the roof down over the Hutterite's ear.

3. A further charge against Kleinsasser is his totalitarian rule. Kleinsasser has no confidence in the opinions of the masses. He himself knows what is good for them. They, poor fools, have not the wherewithal to think for themselves. Thereof, he sets himself as the undisputed lord of Midwest Hutterdom...

4. Kleinsasser's reckless behavior is further evidenced in his wild financial schemes... Note the Free Press again: 'Kleinsasser said he, Edel, a South Dakota Hutterite and an Atlanta lawyer formed a limited partnership named Welk Resources Ltd. to engage in petroleum exploration." Finally, a worse charge against Kleinsasser is his confederacy with the New Age movement of the East (the Arnoldleut). The Arnoldleut still hold Eberhard Arnold up as their inspiring leader whose writings are revolutionary, anti-government and leftist.

Judy Tsukroff 12/28/90 to George Burleson, Deer Spring Bruderhof: I have seen several articles about the HSOB in recent weeks. This morning in the 'Register Citizen' there is one headlined 'Hutterian Youths Bring Songs of Peace, Joy to U.S. Leaders.' How wonderful for the children to witness to world peace this way. I also saw your letter to world leaders in the middle of November. But George, I am disturbed by the way you misrepresent the truth about yourselves. This group of children sounds to me like it is coming from the eastern communities, and these are largely composed of people who joined the modern Bruderhof-Society of Brothers in this century. Why then, do you represent the group in a confusing way about your '470-year history?' The way the details read in today's paper, you sound as if the Hutterians were in Germany in the 1920s...

...How much part in this are ALL the Hutterites taking that you are in unity with? George, if you misrepresent yourselves, it can come back later to haunt you, and undermine the effect you are trying to have on the world.

I also want to say something about the Bruderhof- Society of Brothers' witness for peace. It is much easier to have peace among yourselves when you can get rid of people you don't agree with. Which is what the community did to so many of us in the 1960s and at other times. For a group who doesn't allow divorce, this is a cockeyed witness -- for the church to divorce itself from members who don't come up to its standards. If you people said something about your own 'struggle for peace,' 'not always successful attempts' at it, it would ring more true. It would also be honest to say quite clearly that many of you have a 460-year witness for peace and that some of you joined in this century. Some straight, honest words from you people would be a refreshing change from the good-sounding front you find it necessary to put on so much of the time. I hate half-truths!

Susan Welham Dec. 12 '90: It's me again! Now here is my dilemma: I was too young to remember who abused me or how I was abused, especially in 1948-49. You may wonder why I want to know. I want to know because I have been carrying pain inside all my life. It will surface and catch me unawares -- a harsh word from a loved one is enough to catapult me into a pit of grief and anguish so overwhelming that it takes me days to claw my way back out. In this last year I set myself the task of contacting the places where this grief and despair comes from. My search takes me back to my earliest years, to Wheathill, particularly to a time when both my parents were gone. My parents have told me what they recollect of the 1948-49 crisis. My father was one of the first to say NO to Llewellyn Harries and was exiled in the middle of winter to Bromdon Ruff in a tent, and then later marched off the hof and told to get going. My mother was exiled to Cleeton Court. They have told me of the great efforts that were made to get things back to normal afterwards, and I said to them, 'What happened to us while you were gone?'

I remember being locked up -- bread and water. My parents don't know. I now ask anyone out there, in or out of the HB, what happened to the children of the excluded parents during that time? In my family there were Geoff (7), me (5), Hilary (3), Rosemary (1) and Piers in utero (can't have done him much good either). Who cared for us? Would the person or people please write to me. I realize from my own life how difficult it can be in times of stress to really be aware of the children's needs. I feel that while the adults were busy with their madness, we were forgotten, were treated like dumb animals. For this to be rectified, the whole episode needs to be placed in the light. We need to know what happened. You, the adults, may have forgiven and forgotten, but we the children cannot remember and have never been consulted. Before I can forgive and forget, I need to know and understand....

In his letter (Dec. '90 KIT) Roger Allain mentions the difference he perceives in the reaction to, and/or the recovery from, the b'hof experience between the people who joined as adults and the people whose formative years were spent in the community. From my point of view, the key to this disparity lies in the wider experience the adults had. They had already formed an identity that was not the product of the SOB reality and nevertheless adults graduates have described their dismay at realizing how they allowed themselves to change; how they agreed to and were party to decisions, attitudes and actions they later deplored. For me as a child, having no other perspective or experience to draw from, this mind and heart-binding was crippling. Binding, as the Chinese bound their daughters' feet to make them fit a cultural concept of beauty. If the bindings were taken off, it caused great pain and the feet were never really healthy and whole. I feel this way about what was done to me. The crippling of the inner concept of myself, and hence all others, has left me with a painful legacy. The HB would still prefer things to be pretty -- a quote from the Dec. '90 KIT: 'We don't want our children or our guests to read KIT. It might cause doubt, they may question.'

They may find out that all is not right in heaven. Well, I grew up in that heaven -- the heaven I could never be an angel in. I never was good enough. My lessons were:

I was essentially an evil being whose whole life

had to be dedicated to controlling and/or stamping

out the worm inside.

When people make mistakes, they lose the right to

be loved and either live like ghosts without a voice

or are cast out into the void to perish.

This may sound rather extreme, but children absorb the essence in emotional terms. For an example, my father was cast out a number of times. I was given no explanation, he just disappeared. Imagine my delight when one day, when walking with a school group, I saw him in the distance. Off I ran calling 'Daddy, Daddy!' I was hauled back by the teacher. 'You must not talk to him.' No explanation. He must be a ghost. My life was full of dark confusion. I was eight at the time. We were having a really hard time of it that winter of 1951. My mother was pregnant with Oliver, the rest of us aged 2, 4, 6, 8, 10. My father had transgressed. My mother had forgiven him, but in true SOB style, he must be punished. WE WERE ALL PUNISHED. The desire to punish took precedence over any other consideration, especially how the children would fare. Oliver was born defective -- we were still being punished. We did not know as we sang 'Golden slumbers kiss your eyes' outside the baby house that Oli would have physical-mental-emotional problems which psychiatrists attribute to the extreme stress and deprivation my mother suffered during her pregnancy.

I understand why Loy reacts the way she does to the Christmas cards which depict the sweet little Christ child. If WE had been treated as if we were that little Christ child, with love, respect, reverence, the divine in us would have had a greater chance of blossoming (Alice Miller, 'Thou Shalt Not Be Aware'). As it was, the SOB created children who had no parents and parents who had no partners by putting the ideal of the unity of the church, or group, above individual responsibility and inner peace, above the bond between partners and above the parents' role as guardians of their children. So, superimposed on our own powerlessness was the frustration and powerlessness of our parents. For example:

None of us in my family agreed with the harsh treatment meted out to my sister aged 9 when she was excluded, sent away to Ibate. She had been playing doctors and nurses with another little girl. 'The Powers That Be' decided that she had latent homosexual tendencies which must be squashed. The 'best' way to do that was to rip her from the relative security of her family, to send her away and let her suffer. We all suffered. We still do. She still puts herself into exclusion when she is troubled. She does not reach out to her family. They were not there when she needed them most.

Tell me HOW DO I FORGIVE AND FORGET THIS UNNECESSARY SUFFERING? How DO I live with my fear of loving those close to me -- my children, my husband (ex)? I do not choose to live this way. My early lesson was, 'It is not safe to love. People you love can be whisked away for no apparent reason.' There is no way I can put a pretty face on this pain. My early childhood experience is what I am made of. It is in my bones, in every cell of my body. I spend my life trying to re-educate myself. I have found someone recently who is prepared (professionally) to re-parent me, to help me recognize the falseness of so much of what I was taught. She is helping me towards a less judgmental, gentler attitude towards myself and to chase away those stern and punishing voices that clutter my mind. I now understand I am the outcome of all that has happened to -- with -- from me. This raises the question: what HAS happened?

I can access much of this material, but the most difficult areas to reach are pre-lingual. I cannot catch them with my mind. They reside in my physical/emotional being. In order to know what I am made of, I have to contact, re-experience the child of my childhood. To contact the pain, the vulnerability, the joy, the innocence and spontaneity of the child - 'WERDET WIE DIE KINDER' -- involves dedication and hard work. And I believe it is the only way to truly love myself and others. Instead of giving lip service to love while acting out every combination of repression and projection, repressing my real feelings and/or projecting onto others the things I can't accept in myself.

I am breaking through a barrier at present. It has to do with my sexuality. This has been a major stumbling block for me. I have come to realize I was sexually abused as a child. The repressive, prudish atmosphere of the SOB did not eliminate sexual desires. Instead they were driven underground and created a breeding ground where, locked in silent embrace, the perpetrators impregnated the innocent ones with the seeds of their own guilt and self-hatred. Do I now have to endure further by facing the villains and offering them forgiveness?

NO!

First of all, I have to learn the truth of my innocence. To stop protecting these people. To take away the blanket of silence. To find my anger. I need my anger, my righteous indignations. Sometimes anger is the only appropriate response. I stand with Loy in her anger. Maybe that anger will diminish if there is some recognition of its right to be.

Everywhere I turn, my deficit, my bankruptcy, stares me in the face. I grew up in a place where the only acceptable emotion was LOVE. The IDEAL was love, and yet I did not experience love. I will tell you of an experience I had when I was 4 or 5. I had been stealing other children's toys and burying them like a dog with a bone. I was taken to the 'Servant of the Word.' Something seriously had to be done about my unloving behavior. A marvellous remedy was orchestrated: I was given a box of chocolates to share with all the children in order to 'learn' to be 'giving.' I remember the whole incident very clearly, including my reaction. I dutifully went around sharing all those sweets. I knew I had nothing to give. The sweets were not mine to give. I was just carrying out orders. I had to manufacture love; create it out of an emptiness. An emptiness caused by not having consistent caretakers -- by not feeling safe -- by not being able to trust -- by feeling abandoned. My needs were not being met.

Instead of my behavior being recognized as a desperate cry for help, of the obvious great need I was in, I got behavior modification which further violated my already bleeding insides. That was my childhood -- manufacturing acceptable behavior and never having the right to experience or express anything else -- my emotions bound, like those poor little feet. Now when I take off the bindings, the biggest SHAME that binds me is that I feel I am not entitled to be human. I am in pain. I have not yet learned, on a feeling, that all my emotions are valid. They just ARE. There is no need to judge them. They are there for a reason, to guide me.

Maybe I can allow myself not to be so loving and forgiving. I can say to myself that the caregivers, the SOB, did their best - did as they knew. They too had childhoods that left them in deficit. I look at my children and feel the sorrow of my inability to give them what they need and have needed. I want so much to see this cycle broken. It's no use going on about the Middle East crisis -- surely, those people in power are also in deficit and perhaps in their own way, and in the only way they know how, they too are using power play and threats of open conflict to assuage and fill the gaping hole inside themselves.

But I can only start with myself.

The first stage is understanding that my needs are not met -- and not to be ashamed of trying to have them met now. A large part of that need is to be HEARD. LISTEN TO ME. Do NOT tell me what I have to say is INAPPROPRIATE. I could not say that when I most needed to. Another great need is to be ACCEPTED. NOT to be rejected for who and what I am. I have had great anxiety about being cast out if people knew the IMPERFECT ME.

And YES, I do face you all, SOB and HB. YOU, by your own definition, are a conglomerate. I hold you ALL accountable. You are the perpetrators, either by commission from lecherous glances to voyeuristic inquisitions, or by omission -- omission that left me unattended by night -- that left me ignorant of the facts of life. I have to hand it to you. THIS is not mine. I do not have to forgive you. I will leave it to you to forgive yourselves.

Charlie Lamar: Some of the cruelty which a supposedly loving, pacifistic and Christian way of life has engendered, results in my opinion, from a conflict between two fundamental beliefs. All bruderhofers seem to be very clear on the point that spirituality cannot be forced, that love is a gift, that the free, personal volition of each believer must operate uncompromised in relation to God. So why, then, have they so often used the most ruthless psychological if not physical force in the pursuit of their spiritual goals? I believe the answer lies in the fact that while they believe adult believers must spontaneously desire the gifts of God, it's acceptable for the community to circumvent personal volition and use psychological force to combat evil in the cases of children or those of their baptized brothers thought to be under the influence of a 'wrong spirit.'

These two beliefs are in flagrant and insupportable contradiction, in my opinion. Surely parents must play a godlike role in the lives of small children. But when has anyone personally seen God using the kind of psychological and physical force on believers that has so often been used on their children and baptized brothers? Either God wants His children to be volitionally free or He does not. The idea that God uses force on people may be found in the bible, but this biblical God is not the God I know and love. The idea that it is permissible to try and force evil out of anyone, even children, is no more plausible to me than the idea that God would force goodness on anyone. But various kinds of psychological as well as physical force have been used over and over again on bruderhof children, such as in the 'clearing rooms' in the children's communities.

When I was at Woodcrest, I heard a lot about getting rid of one's ego. This was borne in on all the children on a daily basis. But I never bought it. In my opinion, an ego is like a skeleton. You can't live without it. It's no more of a spiritual advantage to reduce one's ego than it is a physical advantage to have delicate, fragile bones. It is rather a question of the motivation of the ego. But I personally was never given any positive spiritual instruction while on the bruderhof. For example, I was never personally told to pray. However, for that I shall always be very grateful, because when I finally did pray, it was entirely my own discovery. But along with all the other children, I always was told to reduce my ego, not so that I might be filled by God, but that I might be better directed by the people around me. Not until I was away at college did I open my eyes to the nature and gravity of that substitution, the substitution of the community for God which the bruderhof makes in its practical religious life. Consider the meaning of the phrase, heard so often in the community: -- "All you are asked to do..." --

In the future, I am sure we will hear more about forcible community attempts to smash children's egos. It is one thing for an individual intentionally to empty the human vessel so that it may then be divinely refilled. It's another thing altogether for other people forcibly to smash the pitcher. Many people who write in to KIT were literally smashed by the b'hof. This is hard for many well-intentioned people to understand, who keep offering the standard spiritual instruction -- 'Empty yourself of all the bad feelings, and let God in. -- Forgive and forget. -- Let bygones be bygones' -- not realizing that this is impossible for people who find themselves in that situation, and that the attempt would only cause further damage.

Elizabeth Bohlken-Zumpe: I read the anonymous ['Eyebrows'] letter, and was really very upset by it. As you point out, you did send a copy to the SOB, and Dick Domer left it up to KIT to publish the letter or not. That makes me feel that the Bruderhof must know who the writer is. I think it's absolutely disgusting and serves no good purpose whatsoever! So I want to give you an account of my memories and all the facts I know about my uncle Heini's sickness in the 1940s. The facts are based on what my Oma and aunt Moni told me when I was a child. First of all, you must know that the Arnold children were not very strong. World War I had left its marks on their general health. Two of Oma's sisters died on the bruderhof (Tante Olga & Tante Else) with open tuberculosis. My mother had shared 'Tata's' room until she died. That is where my mother got her T.B. All the Arnold children had T.B. at one point in their lives. When my mother was 16 years old, she was told it would be better not to think of marriage because of her infection.

1939 - My father was excluded for one thing or another, and my mother was pregnant with my brother Killian. I remember her vomiting blood, but she said not to tell anybody as it would mean that she would have to be taken away from us. Shortly after Killian's birth, she went into hospital (not with Papa but with Hans Meier, as Papa was excluded). She was told she was a menace to the British country, that they could not and would not treat her anyhow because she was German and there was a war on. She was isolated in a little house far away from us and lived there all alone. As the air raids got more and more severe, my father made the choice to be isolated with my mother, and we children were looked after by Heini and Annemarie together with Margot who again had the special responsibility for my brother Ben who was very ill with asthmatic pneumonia. Heini would carry me into the air raid shelter many a night. He would lift me up and show me the burning lights of a bombed Coventry. Our relationship was nothing else but a very close and loving one. We traveled to South America together. Mama was isolated on the boat as well, so I spent much time with Heini and Annemarie who had two children by then, Roswith and Christoph. The journey was a long one as the boat had to change course all the time because of the submarines. The adults were very close in the struggle of this trip. I felt the warmth and shelteredness of them very much indeed.

On our arrival in Primavera, there was a lot of sickness. We had left my mother in Buenos Aires until an isolation house was built for her in Isla Margarita. At the end of the hof, three homes were built, and it was there that Heini was put when he had his serious kidney infection. My mother was in one house with a T.B. meningitis, my brother Ben in a very small house next to her and Heini in the third little house. The community would come and sing in between the houses. I write this in detail because there was absolutely nothing and no one against these poor sick people! As I said, Heini had a very bad kidney infection with a very high temperature and a lot of terrible pain. Cyril, our doctor, was still a novice. He had just finished his studies in England when he decided to join the community. He had no antibiotics, nothing to examine anybody, like an X-ray machine. He was needed in 100 places at the same time because many children were dying. He did all in his power to try and let the fever drop and help Heini with his pain. He gave him morphine injections but it seemed like nothing would help. So the community came together for song and prayer around his bed. It seemed as though Heini's hours were numbered. Then Moni and Cyril decided that a lot of drinking would clean out Heini's kidneys. They gave him anything he wanted to have. A special wagon went to Friesland to get beer for Heini. He loved it -- and it helped. The fever dropped and he was very slowly on the mend again. What happened then is not so difficult to understand. Heini still thought he was a dying man and kept calling the brotherhood to repent, and love and trust Jesus. He was still calling out for his medication because his body had gotten used to the stuff. The community could no longer cope with the situation. Heini had reinstalled my father as servant together with Georg Barth. The brotherhood decided that Heini should see a specialist in Asuncion. A plane came from the capital to bring Heini to the hospital. There he got the best care anybody could ask for in those troublesome days of the beginning Primavera years.

At some point, my dad was asked to have a confidential talk with Dr. Revarola and Dr. Buttner in Asuncion. He went with Annemarie. The doctors said that Heini needed a lot of rest, fresh air and good food. That his mind had suffered from the morphine and that his mental state was very highly strung. Papa, Annemarie and Heini talked together in Asuncion about the situation, and later with Moni and Oma. Papa felt that when a servant needs rest under such circumstances that this is a very confidential matter. Therefore he did not discuss that talk with the brotherhood. But Heini had agreed that his service should rest until he was really feeling up to it again.

The Arnolds moved to Loma Hoby and our family too, because the isolation house for my mother was finished. Heini worked in the school. He was my teacher in geography and he also gave us teachings of the bible and the early Christians. We had a Sonnentrup which was something like a Kinderschaft nowadays. Annemarie gave us singing and handicraft lessons in the afternoons. Heini was a loved and very much accepted teacher. We loved him dearly. He was a jolly man, and we had lots of fun with him!

There there was a crisis. We didn't understand any of it. Wagons kept rolling off and on for communal meetings. Then there was the great exclusion. The reason was that Heini, Hardi and Hans-Hermann felt that my father was not 'Hutterite' enough. He read too much from Romano Guardini and other theological teachings. They met secretly and wanted to contact the Hutterians for advice. The brotherhood felt that this was destroying trust and love, and violated the essence of communal living. In his later years, my dad felt very bad about these exclusions. The brotherhood had not realized how very different it was to be excluded in Europe than it was in Paraguay.

To make my story short - and in answer to KIT's anonymous 'Eyebrows' letter:

1. The evil servants did not maneuver Heini out of his service. His illness had made him very unstable and he agreed to have a rest.

2. The 'evil doctor' did not poison Heini. No, Heini received the best and most expensive treatment! The doctor was a very loving brother who did everything in his power to help the sick with little or no medication on hand! How is it possible that such slander is said about a brother who helped each and every one of us?

3. No, there were no wicked ones that tried to starve Heini to death. We were all close to death because we just didn't have any food (e.g. milk was only available for pregnant women and babies under a year. So we never had a drop of milk!!)

4. "Hold off with this garbage about 'dialogue, openness and truth.' You change the meaning of these words just like Hitler and his Nazis did." That is really evil and what is said above that as well. Nobody is printing blasphemies and lies about Heini, but it is true that Hitler was worshipped by the masses. Should we see a comparison here?

Actually all this makes my heart ache! How are we following? Where does love come from? What is the essence of life? Why did my grandfather start community? Is all of this lost? I cannot and will not accept that! Somewhere along the road, hero-worship came in the place of brotherly love. This made my father fall, like he did in the 1950s. Not before! Why do people always want a leader? Is it so that we do not have to take any responsibility for our own actions? I am quite sure that today on the Bruderhof many brothers and sisters really believe that they are following Christ, but actually they follow the writings of Heini.

About the last letter my grandfather wrote to my father. I know that letter. A very loving letter to my father, in which he gives advice because somehow, he knew he would not live any longer. It is a personal letter of a father to a son-in-law. It should not be used for people's own ends. It should also not be used in any other spirit than it was written in. He advises my father on such personal matters as his own children. Heini was a very sensitive child and youth, and out of love, my grandfather advised him, but also my father, not to burden him with difficult, spiritual matters, but rather let him work as a brother in and with God's nature, thus on the land under God's blue sky -- in and with God's nature. That is why he had an agricultural training.

I believe that all of us have the possibility to love and to hate, to give and to take, to be humble or proud. A schizoid person has all these qualities to an extreme excess and is therefore so loveable and hateful at the same time. That makes life truly difficult. If we let go of the person that has so much power over us. we will find inner freedom and assurance and be able to help such a person. That is enough for today, I'm sure. Sorry for the length of this letter, but I do get carried away. But you see, not many people remember all the ins and out, and I DO.

Let us remain hopeful that we will reach people who have come into distress because of all this and maybe let the brothers see that true inner peace is never found by defending a man's actions or beliefs but is rather found deep within us in the little bit of love that God put there into each of us.

------------KIT Newsletter, March 1991 Vol. III #3----------

Joel Clement, 2/6/91: While weighing the pros and cons of whether to go public with my thoughts, I am reminded of the saying: "It is better to keep silent & be THOUGHT a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt!" Nevertheless I am firmly convinced it is time for me to make a fool of myself! And I would invite other Bruderhof kids to do the same!

My publication of the following correspondence with Kathy Mow is not an attempt to torpedo the bruderhof's willingness to make amends where need be. I will visit the bruderhof and we will talk, and on some points we will have to "agree to disagree." Kathy is obviously a really cool person (pardon the modern language), and I trust she is not offended that I am airing my letter to her as well as her response.

To Kathy Mow: 12/1/90

Dear Kathy: I want to respond to your letter of a year ago in which you asked me to share my "basic differences" which I have with the community. I appreciate your acceptance of those of us who have felt led in different directions, although I'm not sure the Bruderhof by nature can really fully accept us who are "outside." I suppose this shouldn't' keep us from some kind of communication, so hang on -- it may get a little bumpy. There are many things about the community which I find GENUINELY disturbing. Let me start "close to home" and work my way out.

My father, whom I have always loved, was sent away for two years in 1975 and '76 for pride and ambition, as I understand it, I guess for his part in getting Heini off the 'hof in 1959 (referred to on p. 140 of Torches Rekindled). He had been in exclusion in 1960 or '61 for the same thing, had he not? Where does this fit in with the basic teaching of forgiveness? I suppose it is possible that more things were discovered about him, but doesn't that lead to endless digging? I heard that one of the charges brought against him was that he was too friendly with people "outside." How can you explain that? Upon what basis does the Bruderhof break a person's spirit and personality to this extent, to punish them for an obviously God-given trait -- yes, call it what it is -- a gift? It is quite evident to me that the Bruderhof has trampled on people's spirits. I've seen it happen to my dad and to Jonathan and to others. I would guess you might see these events differently, but to me they are quite plain. In my opinion, this is a misuse of Church discipline as spelled out in Matt 18: 15-17 or 1 Corin 5.

I am theologically and politically very far from the Bruderhof. I am basically a conservative fundamentalist, Southern Baptist Christian, although the image which this conjures up in your mind is probably quite different from who I am. These things are the result of years of searching, and I mean YEARS of open-minded searching. We left the Brethren Church where I met my wife and stumbled across the Baptists through their Bible study.

I sit in one of those "American churches," my 6-year- old son's head in my lap and his feet on the pew. In front of me, a teenager puts her arm around her parent's shoulder, and it goes through me like a knife. You guess why. The hymns bring tears to me eyes: "Blessed be the Name!" Around me are handicapped and homeless (just fed), old and young, rich and poor.

I weep tears of frustration over my parents and the Bruderhof, and tears of joy over Christ and what He did for me and all men who will accept Him. What else do I need beside the Son of the Living God as a friend, and the chance to express my concern for those I love? In my ability finally to get bent out of shape over these two things, I am complete! I don't want to serve Love, I want to serve Christ! I don't want to serve Church-Community, I want to serve Christ! Like Peter on his knees in the boat before Christ -- because I too suddenly recognize He is exactly who He said He is! At that moment, Peter also realized his sinfulness -- why wasn't HE sent away? He was proud and ambitious, but was taken in and accepted instead of sent away.

What did you lose to the Bruderhof? I lost two years with my dad because he was too much like Peter.

I'm not mad at the Bruderhof. I am grieving (I'm also lying -- I am mad as heck at the Bruderhof -- who am I kidding?) Obviously there are days when I feel the Bruderhof has stolen my parents from me. This is not an attack on the Bruderhof, just a statement of how I feel. I have a vested interest in the Bruderhof because you people have my loved ones in there. If they -- and if I read your attitude towards members and even former members correctly -- "belong" to you, I can only pray that you will take good care of them.

My experience going through adolescence at the Bruderhof and as a young person was that the area of human sexuality is mishandled when it is handled at all. I went to the Servant of the Word in 1974 and confessed to a minor sexual infraction and to having feelings for a Bruderhof girl. Perhaps in bringing these two things together I set him up, in a sense. Why is it that having feelings for a girl is made out to be bad? He could have assured me that this was normal. Instead, he said something to the effect that "the basic law is: 'Thou shalt not commit adultery.'" Then he read to me something which Eberhard Arnold had written on the subject, a text which I already knew, and gave me Blumhardt to read, something rather complex about Creation. Isn't it sad that people in leadership positions can't even distinguish between normal adolescent feelings and adultery? To put an adultery trip on someone who wouldn't even hold hands without permission is really something! I shouldn't have to remind you that adultery is sex outside of marriage, which is a big difference from having normal attractions for the opposite sex!

Later, when in college, I asked if I could spend my weekends working as an orderly in a hospital to get a distance from the community. I was told I shouldn't run from my problems when, in actual fact, I was doing, or trying to do, quite the opposite.

After the crisis of early 1975, Dad was sent away without so much as goodbye. My brother Mark and I happened to flag him down on Route 44 on our way back from college. We wished him well.

I felt more and more that I needed to leave. I couldn't really say why at the time, but I felt a clearer and clearer calling to leave. I finally left in May of 1978.

Trying to dialog with the community has been difficult and intimidating in my experience. 8 years ago, I made a very carefully thought-out attempt to get my parents and the community to come to some kind of understanding with my brother Jonathan. The result wasn't quite what I hoped for, but I think it did some good. If the letter I wrote then has been lost, I have a copy which I would be glad to send , although this would not be an attempt to "re-open" the dialog I so badly hoped would happen 8 years ago.

The overwhelming feeling I get from the Bruderhof in regards to anyone that isn't at the Bruderhof is that they have totally missed the boat or worse. Pressure to come back seems to saturate the place, although I know, and you have stated, that it is mostly well-meant. And there seems to be the attitude that, given enough time, everyone will see the "absolute rightness" of your way of life.

Basically, I would go to the trenches to defend your right to live as you see fit, but I can't see the absolute rightness of any particular way of life. Some orthodox Jews actually hold a funeral service when a family member leaves the faith. There are times when I have wished, for the sake of both sides, that we who left could have been given the courtesy of a funeral!

I am quite surprised at the attitude of the Bruderhof towards the Bible: that it is not the Word of God. I note with interest in the same paragraph the thought that the persecution of the Christians will be cloaked in scripture. That means effectively that when someone comes to criticize the Bruderhof and bases this criticism on scripture, you can easily dismiss this as persecution. I am distressed that you cannot find more trust for this wonderful testament to a 4000-year heritage of justice and mercy, not to mention the central theme: Christ. I don't know anyone, including myself, who believes that the Bible is the Word of God and also thinks that God ONLY speaks through the Bible.

In my view, what is unique about the Bible being the Word of God is that it can be printed, bought and sold, and as such is available to everyone. This is what was so important during the Reformation, that the common man could read the Bible as it was made available through the invention of the printing press. Indeed this is one reason the Hutterites taught their children to read. I don't think an ordinary book would have changed the course of history this way. I think of your scratch-picture of Simon reading the Old English Bible by candlelight in my mother's story "The Secret Flower" and how important this discovery was to him. I would have to say I have made a similar discovery myself.

In some ways, the Bruderhof is my enemy. It is quite clear from KIT that many ex-b'hofers feel this way about the Bruderhof. Probably quite a number feel this way but are so upset and bitter that they can't or won't express their feelings. In Christ I now have the ability to love my enemies, and so I love you Bruderhof people even though I am at odds with you. I hold great hope for KIT and how it works for the good, both for the Bruderhof and for those of us outside. What a diverse group these KITfolk are, young and old, rich and poor, agnostic and fundamentalist Christian, various racial and ethnic groups, etc., and we are all in search of one thing: healing. Perhaps we should remind ourselves that this kind of diversity has played a part in Bruderhof history. I agree with many of the concerns raised in the KIT conference Open Letter, and with various letters and articles in KIT.

Lest this letter have an entirely negative feel to it, I would say that I remember with great thankfulness the individual acts of love and kindness of many people there, including Merrill. The love my parents showed to me is the reason I can function today. It is my not entirely biased opinion that they are the best thing to ever happen to the Bruderhof. But I take inventory of what I believe and what you believe and what I hold dear and what you hold dear, and I see that I really don't have much in common with the Bruderhof. I certainly don't mean this in a hostile way.

Well, I have bared my soul at some risk, I suppose, and left little doubt about how I feel about many things. It is my sincere wish that this doesn't ruin your day or upset this wonderful time of Christmas. Please share this letter as you see fit.

Miriam Arnold Holmes: (Excerpts from her Life Story) Early in the summer of 1963, my parents came back to Woodcrest from wherever they had been. They lived in the upstairs of the baby house and I was allowed to visit them. I always enjoyed being with them. My father was his usual interesting self, and my mother worked mornings in the sewing room and in the afternoons she cleaned the single men's places like the Bug House and Paul Willis's place. The men got a maid to clean their places, and I would help her. I think I worked in the kitchen in the morning. Also I spent a lot of time at home. We used to have people come over at night after meetings and just sit and talk with us. My father was always interesting to talk to. He always had a much broader perspective on things than most other bruderhof people did.

Little did I realize that my little visit would have some very very serious consequences. One afternoon I was down in the Bug House helping my mother clean the boys' quarters, and like always, I wanted a little music. Music makes work bearable. They had a record player in the Bug House, and I found a recording of "Judas Maccabeus" by Handel. Now I had never really heard that piece before, at least not the whole thing. This was a two- record set, maybe three. So while we were cleaning I put it on, and I really really fell in love with it. There was one piece that started out with a choir of children's voices, and then the adult voices slowly joined in. "See the conquering hero come." It was the same melody that we used for a Christmas song, "Tochter Zion Freue Dich." And I absolutely fell in love with this music. The recording belonged to Dan Maendel, so after we had finished cleaning around suppertime, I ran into Dan.

"Dan, my mother and I were cleaning the Bug House and I was listening to 'Judas Maccabeus,'" I said. "What a beautiful piece of music! Can I borrow it? Can I bring it back with me to Oak Lake and share it with the Singles?" I said all this in a very nice, humble way.

"Naw, I don't think so," he replied. "Nah."

"Come on, Dan, don't be so selfish. You should share."

"Ah, I don't want to lend it to you."

So I pushed him a little bit but not much, and just dropped it.

But I told my father, "You know, I wanted to borrow those records, but Dan Maendel didn't want me to."

I did not think much of it. I finished my 2-week visit at Woodcrest and went on my merry way back to Oak Lake and my regular grind with the toddlers again. What a wonderful age that is! I sure loved those children and those children loved me. Some would even cry when their mothers came to pick them up because they wanted to stay with me. It is amazing what a strong bond these children formed with their caretakers. But actually they spent more time with us than with their parents whom they only saw a couple of hours in the evening, one hour at noontime after naps, and the weekends. Often on Monday mornings the mothers would bring their kids and say, "Thank God we can bring them to you! They were driving me crazy this weekend!" And I would say, "Well, I'm glad to have them."

One day Art Wiser, the servant, called me into his office.

"I had a phone call from Heini," he said. "And he was very very shocked that you, Miriam, had asked for a record from Dan. That was very very selfish, and then you even put pressure on him. There is something drastically wrong with you, and Heini was absolutely horrified about what you did. He wants you to give an explanation in the brotherhood meeting tonight."

Heini also wanted Hela Ehrlich, who was visiting Oak Lake from Woodcrest, to take down everything I said in shorthand because he sure would love to know what were my explanations of my selfish actions. That is what Art said that Heini said.

I was totally flabbergasted! I was mortified! I was scared, and I was in shock. I had forgotten about that episode, and from what I heard, my father was sort of upset that Dan would not loan me the record. I heard later that he went to Doug Moody about it, and Doug thought that wasn't very nice of Dan Maendel either, that he would not loan me that record. So Doug must have told Heini. Now Heini, of course, saw a golden opportunity here to trample his brother's daughter into the mud, and that is exactly what he did. I guess this was the only time my name ever came to Heini's attention, any kind of conflict or anything to do with me. And he quickly realized he had a golden opportunity to make his brother look bad. That is the only way I can explain it, because I certainly did not do anything that a lot of other people didn't do. I know that Dick Mommsen -- what a beautiful person Dick is -- he used to go to Woodcrest and borrow records all the time! One time he brought back all of Gilbert and Sullivan's operettas. We had every last one of them, and Dick loved Gilbert and Sullivan and so did I.

In any case, people borrowed records back and forth all the time. Here I was in big trouble for asking, and I didn't even get the damn records! Me asking for a record was a major sin! So I went to the brotherhood meeting that night with fear and trembling. And I was challenged, and here was Hela Ehrlich with her steno pad taking down every word I said!

Basically what I said was "I am really sorry and I'm ashamed of myself. I was very selfish and it wasn't nice of me, I should not have done that."

But that wasn't good enough. I was sent out of the brotherhood meeting. I was sent home and told that I was not in the brotherhood any more. Ausgeschlossen -- excluded. So I went back to my little room which I shared with two or three other single women and could not sleep that night. I did not sleep a wink. I found that experience so traumatic that I stayed awake all night, lying in bed, feeling awful, just awful. That was the beginning of the end for me.

Of course at that time I thought Heini must be right and I was wrong. There was something the matter with me, even though I said I was sorry and I said I was selfish and whatever. I probably said I was proud too, because that was always a standard self-accusation, to be proud. And I really meant what I said. God's sake, I meant it! I did not want to be in trouble! But it was not good enough. They wanted more.

Emotional blood wasn't good enough for Heini. He got that out of me, I can tell you. He got plenty of emotional bleeding. Now being thrown out of the brotherhood did not just mean you did not attend meetings. Of course you were out of the 'Gemeindestunde' also. It was much more than that. It was feeling disgraced, feeling worthless, feeling almost dirty and having those feelings reinforced by being treated as less than human. People stopped talking to you. When you went to second breakfast, people just left you out of the conversation. It was just a nasty, nasty feeling. They still let me work with the children, which to me was a lifesaver. Because the children did not treat me as if I was Ausgeschlossen . It was like the animals when I was a 11 years old and excluded. The only beings that treated me well and the same were the animals. When I came home, the dog jumped up and licked my face, just as happy as could be. He did not know I was excluded. And neither did the little children. They loved me just the same as they did before, and greeted me with enthusiasm when they came to their groups in the morning and afternoon. And as I said, tears were shed when their mothers picked them up. That was really really important to me, the little bit of love and acceptance I received was from the little children. I loved them dearly for it.

At the time I thought this would last for a month or two and then I would be back in the brotherhood and everything would be fine. But that was not the way it happened. One month turned into another month, and another month. It seemed as if I could not do anything right. After a while they decided that I should not work with the children any more, that I probably was contaminating them with my dirtiness, whatever that was. That is how I felt. So they took me away from the children. Now that was devastating. They put me on the cleaning crew which was responsible for cleaning all the common areas in all the buildings, the bathrooms and sinks. Each group of apartments had a general food area with a shared stove and refrigerator and a sink. By that time we had more than one building at Oak Lake. We had the Harvest House and the new shop. The children had moved to the old shop which had been turned into a children's house. So there were quite a few areas which had to be cleaned quite aside from the dining room and lobby in the main building. They had to be cleaned every day, the floors mopped and waxed, the carpeting vacuumed. The long long hallways upstairs had to be dusted. A lot of toilets to be cleaned. So here I was, cleaning toilets, mopping and waxing floors.

I remained with the Singles for breakfast and other meals they had together. But for family suppers and Sunday breakfast I was with Mike and Shirley Brandes. They were very active in the Civil Rights movement, especially Mike who participated in marches. I very very strongly identified with the oppressed Afro-American person in the South. Not consciously, it would have been a no-no, but I certainly felt for them. My heart went out to these people, and I think being treated the way I was being treated had something to do with it. Both Mike and Shirley treated me well and with respect. I never felt that they looked down on me. A few others were nice, and I will never forget that. Juliana, Jacob Gneiting's wife, treated me like I was a human being. She always had a kind word. Another person was Emmi-Ma Zumpe, Hans Zumpe's wife and my father's older sister. Emmi-Ma probably knew how it felt to be thoroughly humiliated, and Juliana just was a very good-hearted person.

We had a lot of guests. Mike and Shirley would invite people to their house for family supper and I would sit there all miserable, devastated, depressed. And these people would talk about how wonderful it was on the bruderhof and how everyone seemed so happy and all that stuff. And I thought to myself, "If you only knew!" If they only knew how miserable I was. But of course I could not say that. I was very depressed. I always felt that I did not feel bad enough. I felt maybe if I would feel a little worse about myself, truly truly badly about myself, they would take me back. But that did not happen.

People started to pick on me. Sarah Maendel called me aside and admonished me because I did not eat breakfast. I always showed up for breakfast, and had my coffee. The irony of it was that I never ate breakfast in my whole life! I don't eat breakfast now! I felt sick to my stomach every morning, especially then. But it really was not anything new that I did not eat. I just drank my coffee in a sort of zombi-like fashion. But now suddenly the fact that I did not eat breakfast was a sin! I was trying to call attention to myself. That was what Sarah Maendel told me. And I said to myself, "For God's sake, the last thing I want is to call attention to myself!"

That went too far. I told Mike, "Mike, listen, this is ridiculous. Now Sarah Maendel is admonishing me for not eating breakfast!"

Mike knew I never ate breakfast at their house either, and he didn't care. I think he had a little talk with Sarah. I hope he did, because I certainly did not start eating breakfast. I never heard anything else about it. But it was that kind of stuff, you know.

The other person who was really, really mean to me, and I will never forget it, was Johann Christoph Arnold. Christoph Arnold and Dave Maendel came to Oak Lake to do their Alternative Service in the print shop. In those days we still had the draft. Somehow the Bruderhof had arranged with the Alternative Service bureau that their young men could go to another bruderhof instead of having to work in a hospital or work with the poor somewhere. Pretty slick, eh? Anyway, Christoph and Dave came to work in the print shop because we had started The Plough Publishing house there. Christoph! God! What a #$%&@!)*#& he was!! I was still with the Singles, and we would go on outings to Ohio Pile and roast marshmallows and play games. And every frigging single time after one of these little excursions Christoph would call me aside and admonish me for something. Either I was calling attention to myself or I was not participating properly or something. He found some fault with my behavior. There was just nothing I could do right. I was damned if I did and damned if I didn't. If I tried to participate, I was calling attention to myself. If I crawled into a hole and did not do anything I was not participating. For God's sake, it was just like kicking someone who was down! In the years since then, when I thought about that, I could not help but think he was following his father's instructions. I mean, why in heaven's name? I was already excluded, I was in the cleaning crew, I tried to stay in my room as much as possible!

Every once in a while there was some celebration after a brotherhood meeting. Everybody would come down and have some refreshments, but I tried to avoid those. I felt I was not wanted. Sometimes people would coax me, and I would force myself. We had a couple of engagements at that time. Dave Maendel was engaged to Annali Arnold, and after a while Verenali, Hans Meier's daughter, came down and Christoph was engaged to Verenali. Now here was the strange thing again, because Verenali and I were good friends when we were kids in Paraguay. I got along well with her and her sister Hannabeth. Some of that childhood closeness really does stay with you. And Verenali was relatively nice to me. Whereas her fiance Christoph was just plain downright mean. Every chance he got, he kicked me.

Annali Arnold, now Maria, worked as a nurse. Now Annali was nice. I remember having a high fever and feeling totally abandoned. I felt just awful. However I was glad to be sick because then I could stay in bed and not worry about giving the wrong impression. If you are in bed all day and nobody sees you, you don't have to worry about it. I felt safe in bed. Annali would come and get me out of bed, run a bath for me, and while I was in the tub, she changed my sheets. She was very shocked at the state of my old and tattered nightgown and had the housemothers buy me a new one. I thought that was pretty nice: to get out of the tub and get into a nice clean fresh bed. That was Annali.

My life was very very lonely. And this went on and on. 1963 turned into 1964, and I had been excluded for a year. And there did not seem to be any way out! I was very lonely, and when I used to clean the Harvest House they had a wall phone which was connected to the regular line. There was a number for the time and the weather, and I used to call it all the time just to hear a friendly voice! I was starving for human closeness. I would tell the nurse that I had a toothache just so they would send me to the dentist in Uniontown. The dentist did not know I was excluded, and he treated me nicely just as he always had. I had seen that dentist for years because when we came from Paraguay our teeth were a horrible mess. We had this dentist down there who was not really a dentist. He took a 6-month apprenticeship with a dentist in Asuncion and then took care of our teeth. He made a horrible mess of them. He did a couple of root canals on my teeth without novocaine, mind you, and all those teeth had to be removed! I think I had nine teeth pulled when I came to this country. So I was very familiar with the Uniontown dentist and he was very familiar with me. He was always happy to see me and very friendly. So I would tell these people my teeth hurt and they sent me to the dentist and I could have some kind of human interaction. I always hated going to the dentist, I still do, but that was the only time in my life I volunteered to go. He was so much nicer to me than anyone on the bruderhof!

That again was not a conscious thing. I did not think, 'Gee, I'll ask to go to the dentist because he's nice to me.' I just did it and figured out later why. A very very lonely existence. Every once in a while they still sent me to Woodcrest to be with my parents. That next summer I went for a couple of weeks. I thought maybe if I visited Woodcrest for a while they would see that I was not so awful and take me back. But no, they didn't. I tried to tell my father how absolutely miserable I was, but I was afraid to communicate with people. I never knew what the consequences would be if I said "boo!" I listened a lot to records by Peter, Paul and Mary. They sang one song, "All my trials, Lord, will soon be over." I listened to that with my father and said, "Gee, that's just how I feel. All my trials, Lord, will soon be over." My father didn't think that was very nice. So I thought 'Gee, you can't say anything!' I could not say a frigging damn thing!

During that visit to Woodcrest, Heini excluded my grandmother Emmi for some reason. I had to baby-sit her during the brotherhood meetings. I don't think she knew why she was excluded. As a matter of fact, she apologized to me for something, saying she was so sorry she had been rude to me. And I didn't know what she was talking about. I found later she had been rude to Edith Arnold -- I was called 'Edith' too at that time -- but this was Heini's daughter. They excluded Emmi because she was rude to Heini's daughter! God forbid, one of Heini's holy children!

Talk about baby-sitting -- in Oak Lake I was on Watch every night. They did let me do that. Every single night when there was a brotherhood meeting or a Gemeindestunde, I was the Watch. There was a guest, and we would sit around and talk during meeting times. She asked me, "How come you're always the Watch? Why don't you guys take turns?" I did not have the nerve to tell her I was excluded.

I still managed to play the cello at least a half an hour every day. It was almost an addiction. If I missed a day, I felt awful. I needed my fix, playing the cello. It was the only real thing I had, the one thing over which I had control. The consequences of my actions on the cello were real, as opposed to the rest of my life which was out of control. Everything I did could be bad or good or I did not know what. But when I played the cello, I had a half an hour of control. Also I took refuge in the radio -- we still had radios in those days. I had this nice big AM-FM radio, and an FM station played classical music twenty-four hours a day. I listened to it every chance I had. I fell asleep listening to it. I listened to it when I had nothing to do during siesta when I could be at home. It was comforting to listen to music.

After a while I felt 'Gee, I really love this radio. Maybe if I give it up, they will see that I really mean business and I'm really repentant and I have the right spirit and they will let me come back into the brotherhood.' So I gave the radio to Merrill Mow, somebody in high standing, and he said, "Gee, why are you giving this to me? Is it broken?"

"No, I just feel that I like the music too much," I said. "I spend too much time listening to it and I really want to give my soul and everything to the church, so I'm giving up this radio."

"Okay, thank you," he said.

And that was the end of that. No miracle happened, except that I did not have my radio any more. God! How awful! So I was left with just a cello. I remember being extremely depressed in the morning. Getting out of bed was an awful, awful chore. The only time of day I felt halfway decent was at night the hour or so before bedtime when I could look forward to sleeping. The only time everything was okay, when I didn't feel any pain, was when I was asleep. And when I took a bath. I could lock the door to the bathroom and stay in the bathtub for an hour or so, provided nobody else was waiting in line. I felt safe there. Nobody could summon me to the office and give me a talking-to while I was naked in the bathtub. Also I had a few minutes' reprieve while getting dressed. And I did a lot of reading. I went down to the library and took out whatever books I found interesting. I read a lot of Martin Luther King in those days.

But the mornings were just awful. I had the whole damn day to live through before I could go to sleep again. I was really getting more and more depressed! Nobody gave a damn except those two people I mentioned, but they had to keep a low profile about being nice to me, so they almost had to be nice to me on the sly.

In the meantime, Dwight and Norann Blough moved to Oak Lake to take over the 'hof with Merrill and Kathy. I don't know where Art and Mary Wiser went. Frankly I didn't give a damn where they went. They were pretty mean to me, Art and Mary. So Dwight and Norann came and took over the 'hof. Now Dwight was some kind of 'wunderkind' as far as Heini was concerned. Everybody really admired Dwight. And he felt that the whole 'hof had to be redone. He knocked out the walls of the dining room and redid it, painting it bright orange. The Rhon Bruderhof's bright colors came in. Bright was right. They talked about pastel colors as if they were sort of evil. Bright blue and bright orange -- that was where it was at. If he painted the dining room bright orange, people would be in the right spirit. That was the kind of message that was sent out. Kathy Mow did a lot of mixing paints trying to get just the right color. Then they started talking about draining the lake, getting rid of the lake because it took up too much space. There wasn't enough space for the kids to play. Actually that was sort of true. Whenever I took a walk with the kids, I always was afraid they were either going to get run over or drown. I was always counting kids, constantly counting. So he set about draining the lake and making a meadow out of it. That was a big change which was painful, but change is always painful. They left a little pond at one end where people could swim, but the whole bruderhof was so enthusiastic about what Dwight was doing. He was bringing new life!

In the meantime I was just languishing, feeling more and more hopeless. I would never never get back on my feet again. That was how it was in November, 1964. One afternoon, one of the housemothers, Norann or Kathy, called me to the side and said that I should come to the brotherhood that night.

"Oh wow!" I said.

I can't remember what I thought. I was so numb. Maybe I had a tiny hope that perhaps something good would happen. So I was called into the brotherhood meeting that night. By that time, the it was a big-sized brotherhood, sixty people or so sitting around the circle. Dwight and Norann were in charge, and said they felt that it would be best if I left for a while to find myself. Go on the outside. That was what I had been afraid of, because to be sent away was the ultimate disgrace. Awful! 'My poor father,' was the first thing that popped into my head. 'Now he has to go through that humiliation of his daughter being sent away!'

"Now what do you think of that?" they said.

"Whatever the brotherhood feels is right is what I will do," I said.

And you know they had the nerve to yell at me for saying that! I remember Norann shouting, "Don't you have a mind of your own? Can't you think for yourself?"

"Whatever the brotherhood says," I said. You know, you couldn't win.

"Okay," they said. "Tomorrow you leave." And they sent me out of the room.

I stayed awake all night again with butterflies in my stomach. I just felt awful. 'The ultimate disgrace is about to happen to me,' I thought. 'I am being kicked out.' That was always the worst. People who were kicked out were talked about as if they were pieces of dirt. So this meant that I was the ultimate piece of dirt. I wasn't even good enough to clean the bruderhof's toilets! I wasn't even good enough for that! I had to leave! I was so traumatized! I can't remember if I cried or not, but I know I did not sleep all night. Butterflies in my stomach is what I had. It was just awful!

The next morning I was called to the housemother room and given a couple of suitcases, a couple of skirts and blouses, a coat which was too big, and some hand lotion and a toothbrush. I think I also got a bottle of shampoo. In any case, I had these two beat-up suitcases and was told to go up to my room and pack. I packed clothes, a few books, a few personal papers, all the while in a state of shock. To be confronted by a whole group like that was very very devastating experience. Just a really really scary experience! It does a trip on you. It really did me in for the time being. November 22, the same day JFK got shot one year earlier, the same day my grandfather died of a broken leg operation in Germany. It was very dreary, typically hopeless November weather.

So here I was with my 2 suitcases packed. I didn't even know where I was going! Nobody had the courtesy to tell me where I was going. Mike Brandes was to drive me. I put the two suitcases in the back seat. Nobody said goodbye to me. Not a soul. I got in and off we went. After we had travelled for a few minutes, Mike said to me, "I am taking you to McKeesport." He might as well have told me we were going to Timbuktu as far as I was concerned. I did not know anything about McKeesport. How and why they picked McKeesport I have no idea. I thought perhaps no other ex-members were living in McKeesport. There were quite a few people in Pittsburgh who had been thrown out, and the community was very vigilant about keeping us all apart. But I could have cared less about where we were going. Mike also said that he had called the YWCA in McKeesport the night before to get some addresses of people who were looking for boarders. He had a list of addresses.

We drove through the dreary Pennsylvania landscape. Western Pennsylvania is not a very pretty area, very worn out, with a lot of steel mills and strip-mining. Very little of the beauty one finds in Massachusetts or Eastern Pennsylvania. The counties around Pittsburgh were very dreary. It was a cloudy day, and I was just totally heart- broken. I sat there in my oversized coat with a blue scarf tied under my chin and I cried and cried. I cried all the way to McKeesport. Poor Mike. It must have been pretty uncomfortable for him. [to be continued]

Elizabeth Bohlken-Zumpe: As a young man, my father Hans Zumpe asked my grandfather Eberhard Arnold, "What is the difference between a spiritually led group of people and a religious sect?" My grandfather replied: Die ersten haben den Geist (The first generation has the spirit). Die zweiten, das Vorbild (The second generation, the example). Die dritten, Die Erinnerung (The third generation, the memory) Und die vierten die Gesetze! (And the fourth generation, all the rules and regulations). That is a sect!

------------KIT Newsletter, April 1991 Vol. III #4-----------

Miriam Arnold Holmes: Jan 12, 1991 Much enjoyed the last two issues of KIT. I am impressed with the quality of the letters. It seems like we are growing and maturing as a group. KIT is more valuable than we realize. Heidi and I had some visitors from Woodcrest a couple of weeks before Xmas (Doris Greaves, Burgel Zumpe and Martin Johnson). It does not really matter who it was because we could have had the same conversation with any one of them. They took us out to eat and we had a friendly, warm chat. Eventually the conversation became serious and the subject of my letter in KIT about gossip in Heini and Annemarie's family was raised. I was told by one of them that she was in that family for 18 years and never was there any gossip. I said that I firmly stand by what I said, but that I respect that her experience was different from mine. We discussed various concerns we have, and pains we have experienced such as long exclusions and child abuse. We all agreed that such things were intolerable and were assured that they no longer occur.

What was the most striking thing to me was their reaction when I brought up Heini's evil-doings. Their whole demeanor changed. They drew back, their spines stiffened and their expressions hardened. It was like hitting a brick wall. I seriously challenged them on the sinfulness of worshipping a human being like a deity, and that sooner or later they will have to recognize that. No response. They defended Heini all the way, claiming that a lot of things were done without his knowledge. I told them I knew for a fact that that was not true in my case, and my family in general. I believe that their response is very understandable. After more than 30 years of experiencing people being excluded and sent away if they so much as questioned Heini, it seems very natural to me that if they hear Heini criticized, they freeze. It is a conditioned response. B. F. Skinner would fully understand. It will take a long time before they get reconditioned. We have to persist. The only way we are going to get the message across is by repeating it over and over.

Feb 18, 1991: I was quite amused by the Feb KIT. What a kicker those Hutterites are! They are of course correct. Mixing the Bruderhof with the Hutterites is like mixing water and oil. It just created a mess. I'm glad Bette talked about that letter from E. Arnold to H. Zumpe in regards to the former's children. I believe the letter itself was probably destroyed a long time ago. Since Bette was told about Heini's illness (in '41) by Oma Emmi, it's very believable. Oma throughout the years had a more objective view of Heini than the others. She suffered for it too.

Feb 24, 1991 From a letter to a Bruderhof member: I very much appreciate your concern and desire that we come to an understanding and put to rest old hurts. You would like me to come to Woodcrest and speak with the people concerned. We would clear old matters up and forgive each other. If it only were so simple! The fundamental problem is much more profound than that. As I see it, the root of the problem lies with your authoritarian power structure, which has nothing to do with the love of Jesus. It has to do with the power of one man over others. As long as you and all the brotherhood are not willing to address this, old hurts will remain, and all attempt at resolving issues of the past will remain fruitless. I tried to address this problem when you and Martin and Burgel visited, but felt that you were not open to hearing it. The brotherhood did allow Heini to have absolute power, and the pain this has caused me and others was and is excruciating. I will have to say again, as I said when you visited, that this has to be recognized sooner or later if anything can be put to rest.

So if I came and talked to some individuals who might have hurt me, it would be like cutting the leaves off a plant of poison ivy; they will grow back. The only way you can prevent the leaves from growing back is by pulling the plant up by its roots. So far, none of you have been willing to do that. And therefore, there is no point in cutting off the leaves. My deep hope is that the brotherhood will find the courage to at least begin to think about this. I'm not saying this to you only, but you all. Thank you again for reaching out.

Loy McWhirter: 10/15/90: This may sound like rage to you not unlike the hate-mail I returned to KIT. But to me it is very different in that it is the Grounded + Grounding rage of the wounded child + it is very connected. It is not hate, it is anger and it is nothing but intense. The other has no base in truth and no ground in any reality except the pityable repression of human emotions that inappropriately dump/omit out on any innocent bystander rather than where it belongs. The real source of it. My rage is appropriate, specific and well- placed. I do know the difference because I've spent my time in the other kind and I had to learn the difference. . .

Sometimes I have mixed feelings about telling these things, because then the denyers and disbelievers will have room to say, " Oh yes, it is because of this relatively small, meaningless and inconsequential incident that she is so unreasonably upset." But in reality, there are many and constant such "incidents" and worse. These are most accessible to me probably BECAUSE they are RELATIVELY minor and so I have less walls and messages in my brain against remembering. This is a small piece in their terrifying and insidious edifice, and perhaps in beginning to find and name the pieces, we can dismantle the whole and let the wild aer in. It is like the story of the Giant in the garden where all life dies and Spring does not come because of his miserly desire to keep it all for himself. Come to think of it, there are many parallels to this story and the SOB - including the part of the children. I think maybe Oscar Wilde might have written it or adopted it from a folk tale. Do you know the story? I will try and find a copy of it That and "Hansel and Gretel" are my current most accessible metaphors of my lost or missing childhood.

I am reading again the narrow, close-minded hate letter in KIT where someone whose feeling-self has been stolen or repressed for so long that it comes gushing out from the great sickness it has made inside like so much vomit. Or, perhaps this person's connections between brain and heart have been severed, clogged or corroded by the sticky religion they practice. The letter made me wander around in a confused daze for 3 days before the fog of forgetfulness began to clear and I remembered what its inane and hateful tone and mindless fear-filled attack reminded me of. I was back again in a time that my mind had forgotten but my body remembers

It was in the time of Primavera in 1959 after my father had been turned on and scapegoated by the "Brotherhood." He and my mother were preparing to leave the next day, I think, to try to arrange passage for themselves and we four children to the U.S. I was the oldest and I was told to mind my brothers, Morgen and Pete and my sister Paula Kate (named after Tante Kate who died just before Paula was born). My mother had told me before bedtime that they had to leave but they would come back for us as soon as they could come get us and take us with them. They were packing in the eating room. I was supposed to be asleep. I was nine years old. I was falling asleep and woke again because a man was shouting at my father who was crying, cursing my father as a thief and devil-worshipper. He was accusing my father of stealing the paintings he had made from the community. My mother was trying to calm him and remind him that they were brothers and sisters and they only wanted to take a few for their children's future and to remember their lives here with these people they loved.

The man got more and more angry and spoke his increasingly mindless hatred, in the same tones and wording as that letter in KIT marked anonymous (KIT II #10 page 1 & 2). He wanted to cut up father's paintings rather than let him take any one. He said he spoke for all the righteous brothers and that my father and his spawn were all gone to the devil and he was no longer their brother and hated that he had ever thought he was. I was very still and frightened in my bed on the other side of the wall. I thought he would kill my father. My mother said he should leave before he said any more he might be sorry for the next day and that they would be gone soon so he needn't worry. I think my father left most of the paintings. The man's name was Carl Hundhammer, I think

When my parents were gone, Dorothy Maendel and another woman stayed with us children. No one at school spoke to me or looked at me. I wondered if they could see me at all or if I had vanished . At home the women didn't speak to us either much. One of them moved kindly though. But Dorothy Maendel was filled with hatred and revenge and vented it on me. She belittled me constantly and took things away. When I was trying to pack for all of us children, she attacked me and said I was stupid and selfish because I wanted to take my doll and some books. She said everything belonged to the community and I was trying to sneak the things away and steal them from all the other poor children. She said she and God had caught me and I would be punished justly. She said my parents had lied to me and they were never coming back to get us, that we belonged to the community now and I would be dealt with. Later that day she cut off all my baby brother Pete's curls. My mother had told me not to let his hair get cut while she was away because she wanted to show her mother in America how beautiful he looked. I tried to explain this to Dorothy Maendel while she was cutting off his curls. She said my mother was vain and selfish and anyway she would never know because she was not coming back for us. Our parents were gone for about two weeks, I think. My father did come to get us and took us to Asuncion. I was very surprised to see him and I didn't understand. In the passport photo of me at that time in Asuncion I look very angry and sullen and depressed. It is not because I wanted to stay in the Bruderhof without my evil parents but it was because I was so confused and I thought everyone was lying now.

After we had been in the U.S. (where people had given us money and things to live on and a place to stay) for about a year or so, I heard my parents talking to Margit Hirschenhauser. They were talking about how the Primavera Bruderhof was breaking up and everyone was very angry and suffering, that many people had been sent away with nothing and some were in mental institutions including some of my schoolmates in Isla. I listened very closely to all these conversations and of their concern about where the people they knew had gone. I had terrible nightmares for several years and during this time they became very specific. The dreams were always to do with this: there are many people screaming and cursing, like Carl Hundhammer, at many other people who had wagons and carts with only a few things. The people with the carts and wagons were in exodus from the community. They were being sent away with nothing but a few things. The wagons were piled very high because many families had to use only one wagon. Everyone was screaming and crying. The people leaving looked broken and tired, like the Auschwitz survivors, with bruderhof clothing hanging on their bodies. The others were screaming crazy hateful things and throwing stones at them. They were angry and cruel. I had this nightmare for many years and sometimes even now that I am 40 the feelings of it come back to me. It is a horrible thing and leaves me feeling small and terrified even now.

That "anonymouse" letter reminded me more directly of this, and that the source of that inhumanity is real and the human suffering it caused has not ended or changed, it has only gotten a more effective facade, perhaps. The people screaming and cursing at the others in the nightmare also look like the holocaust survivors, but they are filled with rage and are trying to separate themselves from those who are shunned and bruised and damned so it will not happen to them as well. I want to tell you about this too. The word "gemutlich" makes me feel sick and suffocating. To me it is a hideous word that evokes nothing but danger and terror. It is the sickly-sweet syrup that camouflages the "cuts like a knife" part of the "love" word (which has the same effect). It clogs my pores and my lungs so I can't breathe and want to die or go crazy. It also feels like the Candy House of the witch in "Hansel and Gretel" to lure the starving, lonely, desperate children so she can enslave them, fattening them up until she will eat them. It is the false promise of "belonging and family" when in reality you have to live with heavy judgment and isolation. It is the lure of welcome when the reality you have to live with is the shunning of what you are, being what they wish you to be. It is the shallow and out-of-reach ideology of 'love and warmth' in the place of human kindness and compassion. It is the professed and loudly touted agape love in place of any small gesture of human contact and connection. No hand reaching out to you because they are all too busy praising their out-of-your-reach lord and passing the mandioca. All empty filler and no nutrition for the starving child.

Gemutlich I always think of as a trance-state brought on by alchohol, drug-induced, or a fanatic, zealous utopian myopia that dissolves the connections in the brain in the same way The child's feeling-experience is that no one is there, no live, real person. When you have a normal need for human contact, reflection and response, you are told in a formal and distant way that you should not have needs or feelings because it draws shameful attention to yourself when others have real needs and suffering. But everyone is your brother and sister and mother and father, you are told. So where is everyone who should see and hear, teach and touch and respond to you as if you were there? Where and who are you if you do not have needs and feelings? I still, at 40 years old, am having to learn how to know when I have even the basic physical needs, having to pee, hunger, sleep etc. I do not trust kindness or "love" because I always think it is only the velvet glove covering the iron fist. I wait for the real motives. I have no life-experience of kindness or "love".

The SOB says that for the child it is shameful and selfish to have feelings and desires. But I say to you now on behalf of that child, it is nothing but shameful and criminal to deny a child's needs and feelings and try to punish any sign of them. It makes that child to disappear, to abandon herself to stop the pain and loneliness It is such a long way back to reclaim the abandoned body, heart, mind and spirit. The SOB should pay for what they have done. I am doing the work. They should pay for it. SOB hierarchy, do not send me your insipid, insidious, hideous sickly-sweet cards with stupid condolences for the life you have left me with. That only reminds me of the birthright you stole from me . Don't send me your visual and verbal reminders of your greatest celebration where you once again resurrect the child you have sacrificed, the innocence of childhood you have co-opted in your annual orgies of cloying, manufactured reverence for some fantasy of idealized child. You have literally and methodically sacrificed the real child and childhood in the name of your illiterate liturgies and regurgitated euphemisms. Send me the good and selfless (and needed) gift of money. Be generous and persevering, like the Magi, so that I may resurrect my own real selves and LIVE the life whose promise you stole and entombed.

KIT, if you want to, or feel compelled to print that anonymous stuff for whatever reason, I think you must counteract it with some quotes about how mind control works and how the cult system with any membership at all gets really adept at portraying a nice deceptive, seductive front for people like this person and anyone who wants to believe because they are too desperate to see or do anything else. It is a known fact, and I do not think that kind of senseless opinion should be left to stand by itself like that It is enraging and intimidating for those of us who have had to live with the reality

------------KIT Newsletter, May 1991 Vol. III #5------------

The Third Biannual Report on The State of KIT

Well here we are, up to our twenty-first issue. It never ceases to amaze us how KIT grew out of a few telephone calls back in August of 1989. Oddly enough, it is the Bruderhof whom we must thank, since if they had agreed to allow Ramon to interview members about Xavie's life story, he probably would not have needed to look up ex-members to learn about his daughter's life. But sometimes just a coincidence is all it takes to turn our lives around. And as Dr. Bernie Siegel says, "Perhaps coincidence is just God's way of remaining anonymous."

We are currently mailing to 259 addresses on the main list, not including our Europe/ England distribution by Leonard Pavitt, and South America by Roger Allain and Cyril Davis. KIT is also photocopied and 'round-robin'd' to many Hutterite colonies, so with multiple readers reading each issue, we estimate a total readership of approximately 700.

Numerous concerns brought up by KITfolk remain unanswered by the Bruderhof, especially those which the Friendly Crossways' Open Letter addressed. On the last page of this issue we have drawn up a list of questions which have been asked, and the responses to date. Hopefully this will act as a reminder to the HB that there still are many unanswered concerns.

Rachel Mason Burger: 3/26/91 I have held off writing to KIT for a long time, not seeing clearly how my story fit in until I read Susan Welham's letter. What she wrote resonates so strongly with my own experience that I found myself trembling. Susan asks for other accounts of what happened to the children at Wheathill in the winter and spring of '48-'49. A Jewish friend of mine also encouraged me to write. In her tradition, history needs to be retold so people can learn and remember and not repeat abuses of the past. To know who we are and where we are going, we need to know what happened. This story happened a long time ago. It needs telling because some of us who were children then are still affected by it, and some were too young to clearly remember. It also needs telling as an extreme example of how things can go wrong in the Bruderhof system where too much power is given to the Servant, and people who disagree run the risk of being punished.

Susan, you were five and I was eleven. I was just beginning to feel a little bit grown up. The year before I had even been allowed to go Easter-carolling at sunrise with Olive and Margo and Eileen. I had been through a long, hard time already. Two years before in '47, my parents had been excluded. They had had to leave us in the care of others. Later I was told they had lived at the edge of the land on the Fourth Bank in an old gypsy caravan. After a year, our father returned, then he was sent away again. He went to London where he did dishes at a Lyons Corner House. Then my mother returned. My little sister, who was two when my mother left, ran to me when she saw her, not recognizing her.

For me, the nightmare that followed started harmlessly enough. A group of us school kids were standing around our classroom stove drying our gloves after sledding. One of them mentioned that two kids were involved in sexual play. The next day, I was told to go to the mother of one of the children, who asked why I did not report the kids to anyone. I thought to myself, "I am not the originator of this story, and if I 'tell on them,' her son would probably get thrashed again, which I did not want to have happen. He had been hurt enough (in fact he got beaten so badly that he ran away). The next day, I was interrogated by a group of mothers in the black hut as to why I did not report on the two children. They ordered me to stand, and tried to force a confession out of me, surmising that a wrongdoing on my part was the reason I had not talked. Again and again I said I had done nothing. They were very hostile. I felt extremely cornered and afraid. They told me to take a walk while they deliberated. It was still winter in Wheathill. The snow lay deep on the ground and blew hard in my face. I started to cry a lot, walking hurriedly to the top of the hill past the huts. There was nowhere to go, so I returned. They repeated the interrogation and then gave up, telling me to go home, and accusing me of wasting their time. The next day my mother told me Llewellyn [the Servant] had said in the brotherhood that my situation was very serious and that he decided that I was to be excluded, not only from the children's community, but also from my family. The shame and pain of that moment is still with me. I asked my mother how long. I protested, "Not my family too!" By way of saying goodbye, I put a chocolate which I had saved for my siblings from my 11th birthday under each of their pillows.

The hardest was leaving Bridget who had been two when my parents were sent away, and now at the age of four, totally depended on me as if I was her mother. During the years my parents had been in the "great ban," my brothers and sisters were everything to me, and now as their big sister, I was being told I was too evil to live with them. I had to move upstairs to live with Ivy. She never smiled at me or said anything nice. I tried to talk with her about birds because I knew she loved them, but was told to remain silent and was only allowed to talk when necessary about work. Ivy, who had a very bad back, and I did all the laundry by hand for the whole community. Mrs. Broom and Mrs. Braithwaite came from Cleeton St. Mary and did all the ironing. Not understanding what was being done to me, they would smile at me. It was very hard work, and Ivy often criticized me. I ate alone in the drying room where I also did an hour of English grammar every day. When I saw Bridget's clothes coming through, I would cry and feel guilty. I once dared to look in my family's rooms downstairs, but they were now empty. My family was simply gone. I was allowed to take a short prescribed walk once a week. I'd think of running away, but had nowhere to go.

I was then told to work in the kitchen in Lower Bromden. This felt like some kind of promotion. I saw a few more people, but still was forbidden to talk to them. Once while I was peeling a bath full of potatoes (which I did every day) Llewellyn asked me if I would write an essay called "Why I want To Live In Community." Knowing he was both feared and revered, I complied. Besides I felt my safety and survival were at stake, and I also wanted to do what God wanted, but could only feel God in the wonderful flowers and bird songs around me.

Once, while off in the pantry, Buddig told me she was caring for Bridget in the kindergarten hut. This, Susan, is possibly where you also were. With many parents having been sent away, their children were either in isolation or in groups that also slept in the departments together. Buddig said that Bridget constantly would ask where is "Latel" (Rachel). I sometimes was allowed to carry the little children's supper trays down, but was told not to look around or talk to them. Bridget looked puzzled and sad, the more so because I did not dare go to her. Later, she told me that she was accused of lying about washing her hands and was taken to Llewellyn who spanked her. This still makes me incredibly angry. How dare he have done this! She had lost everyone, and was spanked! My other sister Janet who was eight and was also in exclusion for no reason, was looked after by Margo who she says "was nice to her." Last year, my mother told me that when my brother told her that Llewellyn was planning to send him and the other 12-year-old boys away, she protested and was locked up for a night and then allowed to leave but without her five children. She was given enough money to take the bus to her parents 30 miles away in Birmingham. Here she had a nervous breakdown. In spite of her health, she managed as a result of being one of the typists at the community to remember the address of Gwynn, Guy and Balz and to send them a letter saying that something was very wrong in Wheathill and pleading with them to return from their travels in Germany. Which they did, so ending the crisis. I was working in Lower Bromdon wash-up when Guy Johnson walked in and said, "How are you, Rachel?" After feeling like a piece of dirt for so long, his friendliness startled me. No one was supposed to be nice to me.

I now lived with Maggie in the "Grannery." A group of younger girls lived next door but I was not to speak to them. While in bed, I once heard Maggie crying bitterly. I think she had been forbidden to go to Easter breakfast. To have her break down like this was frightening; even the person taking care of me was being punished! This is the first time I realized for sure that there were more "bad" people than just me. I was even allowed to go to Easter breakfast. There were red tulips and rolls and eggs and everything the way it was supposed to be. At this time my father, who was still in London, sent me a book to read called "Children of the New Forest." It was a lifesaver. I knew he was out there somewhere and cared for me. At least I was good enough to be allowed to read a book. All in all, feeling I was one of the first victims of this period, I somehow felt my "evilness" started something very bad that had spread like a disease through the whole community and wrecked it.

My mother and Gwynn suddenly showed up and had a meeting with me in which they told me that something had gone very wrong and that I should not have been in exclusion for ten weeks. This was such a relief! Then they asked, "Did I still have anything on my conscience?" That question was such a blow. It implied that I had been bad, but had been overly punished. Still very burdened and confused, I was allowed to join my family in Cleeton Court. My mother tried hard to do activities with us to make up for our separation, but I was very mistrusting. After a few weeks, my father was allowed to join us. There was no discussion of what had happened. The kids figured out that the Harries were in exclusion and where they were. A year later, we were told that the brotherhood had reunited with Llewellyn and that he had been sick and forgotten everything. But what about us kids? It was as if the evil done to us were grown-up business. Even though we were children. we deserved a full explanation, a complete taking back of the things we were accused of, a full apology from everyone involved and a commitment that such a thing never would be allowed to happen again.

Recently I have talked with my parents about these events. They felt that demanding to take us with them and working together as a couple would have violated their vows and jeopardized their chances of being reunited with the brotherhood. They and we paid dearly for such "loyalty." Last year during my visits to Woodcrest, Llewellyn apologized to me, although he still says he cannot remember. Others who helped Llewellyn have not said anything to me. They are sweet people otherwise, who were just following orders. That is what is so very frustrating. In the name of keeping the children's community pure, many children have been abused. As a child, I was afraid when adults started talking about "the children's community." It meant that one of us was about to get hurt.

From my account, it becomes clear that parents having to choose between loyalty to the community or to their children can at times make the community an unsafe place for children. To make it safe, adults need to be committed never to shame, isolate or physically harm children. To make working in unity safe for children, the right for anyone to say NO, I PROTEST!! - including the children -- is essential. For children to grow up as strong, healthy people, we need to respect their curiosity, anger, honesty, genuineness and survival tactics in unsafe situations as well as their joy, creativity, mischievousness and spontaneity. All the abuse done to us was done in the name of God, goodness, purity and unity. If God made children. why can't we just accept them? Children learn about evil through the evil done to them, not the evil in them.

All that I have written happened in the weeks just before Easter. I am still trying in my own way to have Easter. Remnants of the abuse done to me are still with me. For much of my life, I had no idea why any time I am accused of something, true or false, I feel there is no point in trying to defend myself. I start to tremble and sink into a pit of despair, feeling there is nothing left to do but move on alone as a terrible person being cast out again. An incredible feeling of shame overcomes me so I cannot look anyone in the eye. I feel bad, hopeless, untrusting and unsafe.

As with you, Susan, only repeated reassurance from people I love and trust brings me back to feeling I'm a valuable human being. I envy the resilience of people born in a less totalitarian environment. I tell this story in honor of the feisty little child who, in spite of fear, is still trying to reclaim her childhood by loudly protesting what was done to her and all the other children -- also for the sake of present and future Bruderhof children.

Ramon to Jakob Gneiting, Servant at Catskill Bruderhof on MCO computer mail: April 4, 1991: Thank you for your thoughtful reply. I would like to comment on your sentence, "Any act which violates the holiness of the body, and this also includes quite common and everyday activities such as excessive eating and drinking as well as sex and sex life, has to be considered as out of harmony with the purpose of God's creation, and therefore wrong." "Excessive sex and sex life" I assume is what you are speaking to. Now, who is to judge what is excessive sex in another person's life as long as that individual is not doing any harm to others or to himself? Personally, I do not believe that someone who pleasures themselves physically is violating the holiness of their body, but quite the opposite. They are expressing their joy and happiness in what being made in the image of the creator allows them to feel. Society at large has, for at least the past 50 years to my count, accepted that labeling masturbation "sinful" creates terrible guilt in young people and causes them deep emotional distress. Most experts I have read agree that it's much better to accept masturbation as a natural -- and very time-tested -- method of relieving tension and that parents should not make a big issue about it. And if a little child is exploring him or herself in public, just gently tell them that playing with oneself is something to be done in the privacy of one's own room or bed.

What bothers me the most is that if the Bruderhof regards these totally natural acts as sinful, of course then they need to be punished. What sort of punishment does the Bruderhof utilize for a three-year-old girl? Is she isolated in her room? Are her hands bandaged at night (this was a traditional punishment in some circles of yore)? What about teenage boys? Are they isolated from their group? If so, I believe you are instilling in these children self-hatred, low self-esteem, and a propensity for viewing natural sexual acts as "dirty" rather than the goal to which you aspire, that of viewing sex as "holy."

Of course this opens up the 'whole can of worms' since this is part of the "worm theology" that darkened Christianity even from Paul, and more so with the self- hatred of Augustine -- that man is guilt-ridden and sinful from the day he is born and cannot through any act of his own, achieve unity with God.

...I also agree that our society is full of mixed signals and mixed-up morality, and that in LOVE we will find the answers. But I think our differences stem from the other areas I previously mentioned. It is true that the generalities have been exhausted -- which is why I sought to focus on specific cases. I would suggest that, rather than have me ask "what if thus and so occurs," you give me specific details of how specific cases have been resolved in the recent past, not mentioning any names, naturally.

Here is hoping that we can find a deeper understanding and agreement,

Dick Thomson: I don't know if Jakob plans a further reply to your last letter. I understand his reluctance to go into specifics in the sense of, "this is the Bruderhof's approach," since we have learned things from the past and need to go on learning. That we and you have different opinions about the "wrongness" of certain acts is perhaps something that we just have to accept for now. But I want to assure you that we appreciate and share your concerns to avoid harsh, long, or humiliating punishments for ANYONE, child or adult; that we want to avoid damaging a young person's self-esteem; and that we very much want to avoid the injustice of attributing to a young child motives or feelings which might be more expected in an adolescent or adult. We acknowledge and regret very much the harm that these errors have done to young people in the community in the past. I can only hope that this will encourage you to trust that in these respects something has changed.

Ramon replies: Dear Dick: I appreciate your words regarding how the communities' attitude towards certain overly severe and overly suspicious punishment has changed. So much damage has been done to so many people over the years that, frankly, when I try to weigh up the "good" versus the "bad," I wonder if those who have "given up the world" to witness to another way of life might not have served others better if they had stayed out here and helped leaven the loaf a bit. I'm not saying that I don't believe in a communal way of life -- that I do believe in. What I have a problem with is the authoritarian, hierarchical power structure of the Bruderhof, the belief system that takes a very guilt- ridden view of the human being and some aspects of the doctrine of "evil spirits" which can lead to severe abuse of individuals.

Personally, even if there are such things as "malignant spirits" and "demons," which I do not believe there are, it seems to me that it's a much healthier paradigm not to give them credence and to take a more humanistic, psychological approach to these areas. Otherwise you run the risk of giving a great deal of power to the "shadow" side of the human psyche. This remains true, of course, as I am sure you are aware, with sexual issues also. And the more these sexual elements are repressed and bottled up, the more they will "pop up" in disturbing and occasionally destructive ways.

Dick Thomson replies: April 17, 1991 I understand your feelings. I also respond to what you express in your third paragraph beginning "...even if there are such things as 'malignant spirits'..." I do feel that you represent a healthy attitude here, and I respect it. I look forward to seeing you in August.

KIT: A few responses after this, the dialogue broke down completely.

Miriam Arnold Holmes: [Continuing her story from previous issues, Miriam has been kicked out of the Oak Lake Bruderhof as a twenty-four-year-old.]

Mike Brandes and I finally arrived in McKeesport. I had a Green Card, but nevertheless I was an alien which in those days meant that I could not go on welfare. The Bruderhof certainly had no intention of supporting me, so the first stop was the employment office where I filled out some forms. I said I would be interested in working in a hospital as a nurse's aid, as a teacher in daycare. Mike helped me fill out the forms. Then we went to downtown and the surrounding residential neighborhoods. I must have been a pitiful sight in my oversized coat and my scarf around my head, my eyes swollen from crying. I cried all the way. I felt totally abandoned by the whole world. I felt this was the end. Totally devastated. Mike pulled up in front of different houses and we knocked at the door. People would take one look at us and wouldn't even unlatch the screen door! The first one was an older lady and she shook her head.

"No, I don't have a room any more!"

The second person shook her head. "No, don't have a room any more. That was a long time ago."

Back in the car we went and continued driving.

"Will you please stop crying?" Mike said to me finally. "People think I'm beating you up or something!"

It never occurred to me that people would think something like that. But I guess Mike realized that I must have been a pitiful sight. This female and male looking for a place for the female must have turned a lot of people off, especially after they took one look at me. But I did not think that way. I did not think at all. I did not know or care why people did not want to rent a room to me. We pretty much spent the whole afternoon looking for a place to live without any luck.

Finally Mike said, "Gee, I have to get back home! I have to get to a Witness Brother's meeting!" So he drove me to the YWCA and asked the lady behind the desk if they had residential rooms.

"No, sorry we don't," she said, a tall woman with black hair and a stern face.

"Well, where can we put this woman here for a night?" he asked.

The lady scratched her head. "We have 2 hotels in town. The McKeesporter and -- " Some other hotel. "The McKeesporter is all right, but a little expensive. The other one I wouldn't recommend. It's rather a sleazy place."

So Mike didn't know what to do. Probably he thought it was going to cost money to put me in a hotel, and the bruderhof was not particularly generous. So we just stood there for a minute or so. And I looked all pitiful, my eyes swollen. Finally the lady said, "Tell you what. She can spend the night with me and my sister. We live right across the street. You can just take her suitcases right across the street to that white house there."

Mike took my suitcases, walked across the street and rang the doorbell. The lady at the YWCA had phoned the lady at the house and she let us in. Mike put the suitcases down and asked me to come outside for a minute.

�"You'd better be careful," he said. "Be careful! You never know." He gave me fifty dollars and left.

So here I was in this house with a rather plump, middle-aged lady in a housecoat with reddish, short hair and freckles. Her name was Mary, and she seemed nice enough. She put my suitcases into the dining room, made me sit down on the living room couch and offered me a cup of coffee. The house was set up strangely. The two ladies had the whole first floor. The front room was the living room, the next room the bedroom where the two women slept in twin beds -- by the way, they were not sisters. Next to their room was a formal dining room which had a double bed besides the table, and adjacent to the kitchen was the bathroom. Now all these rooms were connected, so if you wanted to go from the living room to the kitchen you had to walk through their bedroom and the dining room. Mary told me that I could sleep in the dining room in the double bed. I took my suitcases in there, but did not unpack them because I assumed I would be leaving the next day to find a place. Mary was seated in the living room, her feet up on the ottoman, watching television. At four o'clock an Andy Griffith rerun came on. Little Opie and Andy were going fishing, and I sat there and watched. The cup of coffee she gave me was so weak! Boy, was it gross! I never got used to that weak coffee people drank. But at least it was warm. She did not ask me any questions. She was not inquisitive. I might have told her where I was from, from this commune.

Of course at that time I was convinced I was a bad guy. I was wrong. There was something wrong with me, and the Bruderhof was right. They did the right thing. They did what they had to do. After all, I must be evil. I must be a terrible person. A couple of hours later Mary got up and said she had to fix supper. Of course I offered to help her, and I can't remember what she cooked -- some goulash or something. About five-thirty or six o'clock, the lady from the YWCA, Betty, came home from work and it was time to eat. So the three of us sat at the kitchen table and ate supper.

They kept staring at me and saying, "Isn't she beautiful! Look at those eyes! Doesn't she have pretty eyes?"

Then and there they decided that the name 'Miriam' did not suit me at all, and they would call me 'Inge.' They took it upon themselves to rename me, right then and there, at the supper table. They sat and gossiped and I just sat and ate. After supper, they watched television. That was all they ever did. At 9 o'clock "The Million Dollar Movie" came on, and Mary went into the kitchen to make sandwiches. Everybody got a sandwich while they watched the movie.

The next day I intended to look for a place to live, but Betty said, "Um, why don't you postpone that for one day? We need a baby-sitter at the 'Y' today."

They had this arrangement at the Y whereby mothers could leave their children one day a week for an hour or two or three while they went shopping. At ten o'clock that morning I went across the street. Children started to arrive at the little daycare center with, of course, Community Playthings toys in it along with other equipment. And I busied myself with those children. It was okay. Pretty good kids between the ages of 3 and 5 or something. It astounded me that these children were no different from the bruderhof children. That really surprised me. I had assumed they would be badly behaved. At the end of the 3 hours, Betty gave me 12 bucks. That's what