Tag Archives: North Carolina

animals, controversies, sports

Bulls aren’t a good substitute for daddies…

A couple of days ago, I read a story in the Washington Post about a seven year old child named Preston who has a passion for bull riding. In 2021, Preston’s mom, Amanda Paquette, moved him and his brother and sister from Naples, Florida to Independence, Virginia, where there was less concrete and more nature. Amanda’s mother, Dana, also lives with the family.

For some reason, Preston’s father apparently isn’t in the picture. Amanda is a single mother taking care of her daughter and two sons. They have a large vegetable garden, chickens, and pigs. Preston helps tend the garden, and assisted in slaughtering sixteen chickens and two hogs, named Pork and Chop. Preston, who is 4-foot-7 and weighs 75 pounds, has also started learning how to ride bulls. The family lives less than a mile from North Carolina, and they regularly go there to watch rodeos.

Weeks prior to Preston’s first “bull ride” (on a 600 pound bull calf), Amanda watched a fourteen year old boy named Denim Bradshaw ride a bull for the first time. The bull Denim was matched to was twice the size of Preston’s first, even though it was the young man’s first ride. Denim, at just 110 pounds, also wasn’t a very big boy. The bull quickly threw the slight teenager, who landed under the animal. Denim was trampled. He got up, stumbled forward a couple of paces, then collapsed. He died at a hospital later that night.

Amanda’s first instinct, having seen the teenager killed by his first bull, was to forbid her son from riding bulls again. According to the article:

On the night that Denim died, Paquette decided to prohibit her son from riding again, to protect him at all costs. That’s what she told her friends in the parking lot after they had left the rodeo arena and, stunned, tried to make sense of what happened.

But then, the next morning, she had a change of heart. Preston still wanted to ride. Preston had been involved in other sports, mostly coached by “exhausted fathers” who had just gotten off work. But, according to Amanda, they weren’t “teaching” him anything. She wants him to have a male figure in his life who will teach him how to be a man.

In spite of having seen Denim Bradshaw being trampled by his first bull, Amanda has decided to let her son continue learning how to ride bulls. She says:

“It’s heart-wrenching, but I don’t want to put him in a bubble. You have to let them enjoy life.”

She adds:

“I will stand by him. I want him to do whatever his heart desires.”

Denim’s mother, Shannon Bowman, and her eldest child, Persephone Bowman, have been working on new legislation called “Denim’s Law”, to try to make the sport safer. Even today, Shannon has said she’d let Denim ride if he wanted to; she just wants bull riding to be better regulated, especially for young people. According to the article:

One of the provisions they are pushing would require that all minors riding bulls have six months to a year of training, which a rodeo outfit would need to verify, Persephone Bowman said. Others include mandating that a rider’s experience match the bucking power of the animal they’re on, that rodeo staff weigh all animals the day of competition, and that EMTs and an ambulance are on-site and outfitted with proper medical equipment.

And, Persephone added, government officials should perform regular inspections to ensure rodeos are complying.

In North Carolina, rodeos currently get very little oversight. State law absolves any farm animal activity sponsors from liability when participants are injured or killed. The article states that currently, participants or their legal guardians simply sign a waiver indicating that they know the activities involve inherent risks. Rafter K Rodeo, the King, North Carolina outfit that puts on the rodeos Preston and Denim have participated in, requires that riders understand “it’s an assumption of risk, and the government isn’t going to get involved in you making that decision.”

As I sit here and read this story, I’m reminded of my own childhood, where we were allowed to do some very risky things that are not allowed today. For instance, when I was six and seven years old, we lived near a shopping mall in Fairfax, Virginia. I was allowed to walk there by myself. No one said a word about it. In fact, when I was a child, my mom often didn’t know where I was. She also left me home alone from a pretty young age.

When we moved to Gloucester, Virginia, in 1980, I was allowed to ride in the front seat of the car, without a seatbelt. I was allowed to ride in the back of pickup trucks on major roads. My neighbors’ mother used to regularly allow her kids to ride on the hood of their car as she drove them on the dirt road to their trailer home, after school.

When I first learned how to ride a horse, I didn’t wear a hat (helmet). It wasn’t until I started formally taking riding lessons that I wore a hat on a regular basis. I used to ride my bike to and from the barn, sans bike helmet, and sometimes after dark. I can also remember riding motorcycles without a helmet, and walking alone on the side of busy Route 17, to go to the store.

I am no fan of nanny laws, and I hear what Preston’s mom, Amanda, is saying when she says she doesn’t want to keep her son in a bubble. I still think it’s sheer lunacy to allow a seven year old to ride a bull calf that weighs 600 pounds. Animals– especially livestock– are unpredictable. It’s easy to get hurt or killed, even when you’re dealing with a trained animal whose purpose isn’t to buck you off.

Amanda says Preston is making progress. On his first ride, he lasted one second. Subsequent attempts saw him hang on for two seconds. As of late February, he’d made it to four seconds. He needs to make it to six seconds before his ride will qualify for a score from the judges. Amanda also likes that the cowboys who are teaching her son are showing him things like how to tie laces around his boots properly, so they don’t fly off as the bull calf bucks. He’s learning to be respectful to his elders, calling them “Sir” or “Ma’am”. He’s also been taught not to cry in the arena. Still… these are things that can be taught that don’t involve an unpredictable, uncastrated, 600 pound animal who is being goaded into bucking. Bull riding is a very dangerous sport. It’s claimed lives, and resulted in some pretty significant injuries to include concussions, broken bones and teeth, and internal injuries that can lead to paralysis or death.

Maybe it’s just me, but it seems insane to me that Preston wouldn’t be allowed to ride in the front seat of a car, due to the risk of an airbag deploying and killing him in an accident. But he’s allowed to ride bulls, because his mother wants him to “enjoy life”, and have male role models. Says Amanda of the cowboys:

“They jump right in and take him under their wing. Who else is going to teach them how to be a man? I can’t. I’m a lady.”

I don’t know where Preston’s father is. It’s not my business. And I know plenty of kids grow up without their fathers, or male role models. My own husband wasn’t specifically denied access to his dad, but he rarely got to see him, because he lived in another state. Consequently, Bill joined ROTC when he was a teenager and embarked on a career in the Army. He has often told me that the Army served as the father he missed when he was coming of age. Even after 30 years of military service, there are some things he might have learned from his dad that he doesn’t necessarily know. So I can see why Amanda wants Preston to have access to male role models. I just don’t see why Preston needs to be riding bulls when he’s still so young.

One other thing I want to add… that doesn’t necessarily have that much to do with Preston’s situation, but is about father figures and how kids need them. My husband’s ex wife has been married three times. Every time she divorces, she makes her kids divorce their fathers, and tries to replace them with someone else. She did it to ex stepson, replacing his dad with Bill, and she did it to Bill’s daughters, replacing Bill with #3. We’ve found out, from talking to younger daughter, that she missed her dad. There was no reason for him to be kept out of her life, other than Ex’s own selfish bitterness.

Ex stepson reunited with his real dad when he was 21, after Bill stopped paying child support. Ex had repeatedly said her first ex husband was “abusive” and “crazy”. She said the same about Bill. In my one and only communication with Ex, I pointed out that her two exes were supposedly “crazy” and “abusive”. Of course, I know that Bill is not an abuser; I doubt her first husband is, either. But, based on what Ex says, she is either a big, fat liar, or she has terrible taste/luck with men. Seems to me that a good mother with that kind of bad luck/taste would give up on relationships until her kids were grown, rather than continuing to press her luck and risking marrying another “crazy” or “abusive” partner that she claims she has to keep her children from seeing. A good mother, when possible, would want her kids to attach to their actual fathers, rather than a substitute.

I know a lot of single moms feel like they need to give their children a father figure, when the other parent is absent. I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing, provided the role models consent and are decent people. However, I think ideally, the father figure should be the child’s actual parent, whenever possible. That being said, I know it’s not always possible or easy. My own father was around for me when I was growing up, but I looked to other men for guidance… including the neighborhood pervert, who was nicer to me than my dad was, but was up to no good.

I hope, if Preston continues to ride bulls, he improves his skills and stays safe from injuries. I know kids have their passions. Look at all of the kids involved in gymnastics, and some of the dangerous things required from that sport. Yet we still encourage kids to be involved– cheering them on as they do cartwheels on balance beams, swing on bars, and hurtle, top speed, toward a vaulting table, catapulting themselves into flips. And that’s to say nothing of the physical injuries, mental health issues, sexual abuses, and eating disorders that can come from gymnastics. There’s probably less risk of sexual abuse, eating disorders, or mental health issues that stem from bull riding. However, bulls are a lot less predictable than gymnastics apparati are.

Anyway… it’s just a thought from me on this Saturday afternoon… Crazy, though. He’s not allowed to ride shotgun in his mom’s car, but he’s welcome to try to ride a bull calf. Wow.

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controversies, law, true crime

Alex Murdaugh is now officially a murderer…

I haven’t really been keeping up with Alex Murdaugh’s murder trial, which has been going on for the past six weeks. I don’t know why I haven’t been following it. I spent three years in South Carolina, and he’s a descendent of a legal dynasty in the Low Country. Today’s featured photo is a screen grab from the moment when Murdaugh heard the verdict. Below is a video I listened to a few days ago, about Murdaugh’s life in jail. He’s in for more of the same for the rest of his life.

Good luck, Mr. Murdaugh… lots of people are going to want to buy your sneakers in prison, too.

I did happen to catch some of Murdaugh’s attorney’s closing statements yesterday. I was really grateful not to be on the jury, because the lawyer just kept yammering on about reasonable doubt. Those poor folks had to take six weeks out of their lives to attend Alex Murdaugh’s trial. As I was listening to a few minutes of this man’s closing speech, I suddenly felt like I used to feel as a kid when I was forced to go to church.

I mean, it was good that the lawyer thanked the jury for their service. He mentioned that they’d had to leave their homes, their families, their jobs, and some even missed out on vacations for the duration of the murder trial. You’d think he’d have a little more respect for the jurors’ time. Yes, he needed to impress upon them the importance of being absolutely sure that the man was guilty before they cast a guilty vote. But I think most of those people are smart enough to hear him say that without endless pontificating.

I’m not surprised that Mr. Murdaugh was convicted of murdering his wife and son. He faces sentencing today. That means at least thirty years in prison, or the rest of his life. Given that he’s 54 years old, I’d say he won’t be getting out of prison regardless of what the sentence is. That’s not enough for some people. I read that Mr. Murdaugh will not be facing the death penalty, and that really pisses off some folks. I read some rather appalling comments about how Murdaugh won’t get death because he’s a rich, white man. That might be true, but I don’t really think racism is a reason to promote capital punishment.

I wouldn’t cheer for anyone to get a death sentence, no matter who they are, or what their race is. I think capital punishment should be reserved for truly guilty people who are extremely dangerous to other human beings and would definitely kill again if they were ever free. When I think of people who should be put to death, I think of folks like Timothy McVeigh, who blew up a building and likely wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. Or John Allen Muhammad, the Beltway Sniper, who coerced a 17 year old kid to help him murder random people across multiple states. I’m thinking of people who are truly hateful monsters who kill indiscriminately.

The vast majority of murderers don’t randomly kill people simply for sport. There’s usually some connection to the victim. It’s not like they just go out and kill someone because they feel like it. They have a more specific “reason” to kill. I think people who get off on killing are much more dangerous than those who feel like they somehow had to do it. I’m not saying those who somehow felt like they had to commit murder are better or more moral… just that they’re probably less dangerous. I think most executions should be done purely for public safety. They should be reserved for the most callous, irredeemable, monstrous criminals.

Not long ago, I read and reviewed a book about a murder case in my home state of Virginia. It involved two teenagers who decided they wanted to know what it was like to kill someone. They had a list of people who were candidates for killing. If someone crossed them, even if the potential victim was unaware that they had done so, they were at risk of being murdered. But if the victim made amends somehow, before the deed was done, they’d be crossed off the list. That kind of random thinking, to me, makes someone more dangerous and worthier of capital punishment. Crazily enough, the subjects of that book have both been paroled.

I really don’t like the death penalty, though. Even for truly dangerous people, I get skeeved out by the idea of people deliberately executing other people. I was very happy when Virginia outlawed capital punishment two years ago, particularly since Virginia had some pretty wacko rules regarding evidence. In another book I recently read, I learned about how if evidence wasn’t presented in a very short timeframe, it couldn’t be considered, even if the evidence might exonerate someone. That, to me, is sheer craziness. If there is the slightest chance a person might be innocent, he or she should not be a candidate for execution. That’s my opinion, anyway.

The longer I live outside of the United States, the more weirded out I get by the bizarre opinions of some of my compatriots. Some of them are absolutely gleeful when a person gets sentenced to death, or sent away to rot in prison for the rest of their lives. Personally, I find the idea of lifetime imprisonment or execution sad, even if the person really deserves the punishment. I don’t like to see lives wasted. Likewise, some people get angry when a person doesn’t get the death penalty. It never occurs to them how easy it is to get arrested in the United States, nor do they seem to care that sometimes innocent people end up on death row. Once someone is executed, they can’t be brought back to life.

Of course, a lot of these folks also conflate the death penalty with abortion. They are all for executing already born people who have a concept of life and death, and they are all for forcing women to be pregnant. Both ideas strike me as brutal and barbaric. But then, to me there’s a big difference between someone who has already been born and someone who is still in utero.

Those are just my opinions. After I saw the death house at the Virginia State Penitentiary, my mind was forever changed about capital punishment. I used to be all for it, because I was so divorced from the people who might face it. Then I actually saw Virginia’s electric chair, and realized that a lot of people died in that chair. Most of them had friends and family who once cared about them in some way. Executions don’t just punish offenders. They also punish people who love the offenders.

I’ll admit, though, that I likely have this level of compassion because I haven’t been victimized by a violent criminal. Maybe being a victim would make me feel differently about this subject. It’s not like I haven’t changed my mind before… and I will admit that reading some stories about violent crimes make me angry enough to wish death on the perpetrators. I remember reading a horrifying story a few years ago about a lovely elderly North Carolina couple who were robbed, tied up, and left to die when the perpetrators set their house on fire. The husband escaped, but the wife succumbed in the fire. I was pretty enraged by that story. I don’t think I would shed any tears if the men who did that were executed… but I also don’t think I would vote for them to get the death penalty… if that makes any sense.

I’m grateful to live in a country that, for the most part, is pretty safe and clean. Violent crime is fairly rare in Germany, at least when compared to my homeland. And there’s no death penalty here, so violent criminals don’t get a platform. I’m sure some of my relatives would say I’ve gone “soft” and liberal on them… But, to me, capital punishment is just another way of promoting loss.

Anyway, I do think it would be appropriate for Mr. Murdaugh to spend the rest of his days in confinement. I don’t think he has a hope in hell of ever being free again, and I think that’s a fitting punishment for him. I don’t need to see him strapped to a gurney and given an overdose of drugs. I can understand, though, that a lot of people will disagree with me. We’ll see what happens today, when he gets sentenced.

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book reviews, true crime

Reviewing John Glatt’s The Perfect Father: The True Story of Chris Watts, His All-American Family, and a Shocking Murder…

One good thing about Bill’s business trips is that they frequently allow me to get a lot of reading done. Instead of hanging out with Bill at our kitchen table, listening to music and enjoying libations, I tend to work on my big virtual pile of books to be read. Bill is coming home today, so it’s fitting that I would finish reading my latest book in time for his arrival. This morning, I finished British-American true crime author John Glatt’s 2020 book, The Perfect Father: The True Story of Chris Watts, His All-American Family, and a Shocking Murder. I’ve had this book in my virtual “to be read” pile for well over a year, having downloaded it in 2021. I have other books waiting that have been queued up for even longer than that!

The Perfect Father is the shocking and tragic story of Chris Watts and his devastating choice to murder his pregnant wife, Shannan, and their two daughters, Bella and Celeste (CeCe), on August 13, 2018. Like so many people, I was absolutely shocked by the callousness of this brutal crime, which left two families shattered and a man’s life ruined. As it is with these kinds of horrific events, evidence shows that the Watts family was headed for disaster for years. It did not have to end in murder. But, unfortunately, this was a case of two incompatible people who desperately needed to admit that their marriage wasn’t working and avail themselves of divorce court. Instead, Chris Watts lost control of himself. Now, his wife, two daughters, and unborn son are gone forever, and he will never again see the light of day as a free man.

I want to make it perfectly clear. I do not, in ANY way, condone what Chris Watts did. He definitely belongs in prison for the rest of his life. However… I do want to state that based on Glatt’s book, I can’t conclude that Watts is a complete monster. His actions absolutely were monstrous. But I like to think that the vast majority of people are better than their worst actions. That’s how I feel about this case, at least with the information I have at this point in time. I can see that I’m not the only person who feels this way.

Todd Grande’s take on this case… He admits it was difficult for him, too. He actually sounds a little shaken as he talks about this. Grande is usually a lot more glib when he introduces the cases he analyzes.

Chris Watts and his family…

Chris Watts was born to his parents, Ronnie and Cindy Watts, in Spring Lake, North Carolina on May 16, 1985. He was a quiet young man who enjoyed cars and mechanics. From a young age, he showed an aptitude for fixing things, and he grew up loving race cars. When he was still quite young, he got a job working for the local Ford dealership, where he developed a reputation for doing great work on cars. He had aspired to work as an elite auto mechanic, but that wasn’t in the cards. For years, Chris settled for working at Ford dealerships in North Carolina and Colorado, and then later for Andarko Petroleum in Frederick, Colorado.

Shannan Rzucek Watts, named after the doo wop group, Sha Na Na, was born to her parents, Frank and Sandi Rzucek in Passaic County, New Jersey on January 10, 1984. She grew up in Moore County, North Carolina, and was known for being a real go getter who liked nice things and the sweet life. By the time she was 25 years old, she owned what some might call a “McMansion”, which she built and decorated herself. Shannan was well known for being very friendly and sales motivated. Besides her human resources job at Anschutz Children’s Hospital in Colorado, Shannan was also a very successful independent sales representative for a multi-level marketing company that sold a product called Thrive.

Chris and Shannan met in North Carolina in 2010. They married on November 3, 2012 in Mecklenberg County, North Carolina. Not long after their wedding, the two decided to move to Frederick, Colorado. Their oldest child, Bella Marie, was born on December 17, 2013, and their second child, Celeste Cathryn (known as CeCe), was born on July 17, 2015. At the time of her death, Shannan was 15 weeks with the couple’s unborn son, whom they had planned to call Nico Lee.

The build up…

By most accounts, Chris and Shannan Watts appeared to be a very solid family. Chris was described as a very nice, hard working, decent man. Shannan was known as extremely successful, goal oriented, and a devoted mother. The couple had a lot of friends, and appeared to be living the sweet life, as they drove expensive cars and lived in a beautiful, spacious, five bedroom home. Most people who knew the Wattses believed they were happy and highly functional. But, underneath the beautiful facade of their family life, the couple’s marriage was crumbling.

According to Glatt, who admittedly wrote his book without assistance from the Rzucek family, Shannan was obsessed with promoting a very successful image. In her opinion, that image must be formed by the trappings of success– a beautiful home, expensive cars, beautiful clothes, and glowing health. Chris Watts, by contrast, was much more introverted and low key. He took pleasure in simpler things, like camping out, long drives, and living more within his means.

From the beginning, it didn’t appear that this couple was particularly well matched to each other. Still, they put forth an image of success and financial wealth, as Shannan developed her business with Thrive. She convinced family and friends to use the health and wellness company’s products, which included transdermal patches. Shannan had a very active social media presence. Although Chris was less comfortable with the spotlight than Shannan was, she would use him to promote Thrive. Indeed, Chris became a success story, transforming his “dad bod” to a much buffer version. Shannan constantly posted videos of Chris on Facebook, even though he wasn’t particularly comfortable with the exposure.

Again, based solely on appearances, the couple appeared to be extremely well off and happy. But there were many problems. Shannan didn’t get along with Chris’s parents, especially his mother, to whom Chris was very close. They both had huge credit card debts. Shannan suffered from lupus, and their two daughters both had health problems that ran up huge medical bills. Yes, they looked like they were on top of the world, but the reality was that they were barely keeping afloat.

Chris and Shannan were drifting apart, never really stopping to be honest with each other to determine what would make the other happy. Shannan seemed to want Chris to take her side in all matters, including those involving his parents– and especially his mom, whom Shannan reportedly didn’t like at all. Chris’s response to his wife was to withdraw from her, rather than have a discussion about their failing marriage. Shannan responded by becoming angry, and involving a lot of unrelated and uninvolved people in their personal issues. Throughout the book, Glatt includes actual text messages, many of which Shannan sent to her friends, as if she was circling the wagons.

In the midst of all of this alienation, Chris met another woman. Nichol Kessinger also worked for Andarko Petroleum, and Chris was instantly attracted to her. He told her he and Shannan were separated, and the two commenced a torrid affair. Meanwhile, Shannan was obsessed with her business with Thrive and her third pregnancy, this time with a son. The couple was drowning in debt and had no love for each other. Chris Watts had moved on, but Shannan wanted to stay together… if only until their son was born.

Murder…

Shannan had handled all of the finances in the Watts marriage, so Chris would usually use a work credit card to pay for dates with Nichol Kessinger. One time, he used his joint card, and Shannan noticed the unusually high charge at a restaurant. Chris had been reticent about his unhappiness for a long time. In the early hours of August 13, 2018, the day Chris strangled his wife, the two had sex. Then she confronted him, and he told her he wanted a divorce.

Shannan’s angry response was the Chris would never see her or their daughters again. Then, Chris strangled her with his bare hands. As her mother lay lifeless, four year old Bella asked what was wrong with her mommy. It must have been then that Chris decided he would kill his daughters, too. Coldly and methodically, he loaded Shannan into his truck, as well as his daughters. It took 45 minutes for him to drive to his family’s final destination in a remote mine field. He buried Shannan in a shallow grave. Then, he smothered CeCe and Bella and dumped both of their bodies into separate oil tanks, where he hoped they’d never be found.

I might explain Chris’s decision to murder Shannan as motivated by rage. But he still had 45 minutes to calm down before he decided to kill his innocent daughters. I read in another source that Chris thought he might commit suicide, but ultimately changed his mind because– crazily enough– he was concerned about workers being hurt in the aftermath.

My thoughts

John Glatt usually does a pretty good job on his books. I think The Perfect Father is a good example of his typical work. This book is well written and researched, for the most part. Of course, it would have been better if he had gotten statements from Shannan’s family, who would have probably balanced out what some readers might think is a fairly sympathetic treatment of Chris Watts. Because the Rzuceks did not participate, this book may seem somewhat one-sided, and possibly unfair to Shannan. She is, quite frankly, portrayed as an abrasive, difficult, money and status hungry person who drove her husband to snap.

Now… God knows I know that such people exist in the world. I write about them all the time in this blog. However, as I mentioned up post, I don’t believe that most people are as bad as their worst actions. Surely, Shannan Watts had a lot going for her that may have been more appealing to a different man. She was legitimately successful as a Thrive representative, even though the couple’s finances were a disaster. And she was a conscientious mother, even if she was portrayed as a potential alienator.

I suspect that if Shannan and Chris had divorced, Shannan might have made things very difficult for him… but I don’t know that for sure. I can only go by Glatt’s description of her behaviors. By Glatt’s account, Shannan Watts comes off as very materialistic, controlling, and potentially narcissistic. If his account is accurate, I can understand how Chris Watts came to be enraged by her behavior. He probably felt despondent, like there was no hope for the future.

None of this means that Chris Watts had ANY right to murder his wife and children. The way he killed them and disposed of their remains was particularly cold hearted and cruel. But, up until he committed his crimes, he hadn’t seemed like a terrible person, at least not by Glatt’s account. Chris Watts apparently didn’t have a history of operating outside of the law. To me, it really does look like he was desperately unhappy, feeling trapped, and simply snapped. He had gone from being a supposedly solid, dependable guy to a cold-hearted, lying, psychopath, completely lacking in empathy and overcome with impulsiveness. I’m sure using Thrive– of which he was using two patches instead of the recommended one– wasn’t helpful, either. He was living an artificial life, that wasn’t the one he’d envisioned for himself. It seemed like there was a perfect storm of many horrific elements from both sides that came together at the worst time.

This is a heartbreaking story on many levels. I see some parallels to the Scott and Laci Peterson case, although unlike Scott Peterson, Chris Watts seems to have some remorse for what he did. And, I’m sorry to say, Shannan Watts did not seem to be as sympathetic a victim as Laci Peterson was. However, many components are similar… murder of a pregnant woman, infidelity, and an outwardly successful and happy appearance before tragedy struck.

It seems to me that the pursuit of the elusive “American Dream” has led to great sorrow for many who never quite get there. Those who are lucky only lose out financially. In this case, there was devastation on every level, affecting so many people. Chris Watts absolutely belongs in prison for the rest of his life for what he did. But I can’t help but wish that he had simply realized that there’s life after divorce and gotten one of those– long before Shannan got pregnant a third time. Or, better yet, held out for marriage to a woman with whom he was truly compatible. I’m sure he wishes that, too.

Amazingly enough, Glatt reports that there’s no shortage of fan mail to Chris Watts from admiring women… He also became friends with Jake Patterson, who kidnapped Jayme Closs after killing her parents, and help her captive for 88 days. Jake Patterson has since been transferred, but they used to be “neighbors” in prison and struck up a companionship. The mind boggles.

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book reviews, religion

A review of Locked in: My Imprisoned Years in a Destructive Cult, by John Huddle…

Amazon.com tells me that I bought John Huddle’s book, Locked in: My Imprisoned Years in a Destructive Cult, on June 17, 2021. I don’t remember what prompted me to buy this book. I think it might have been a successful “suggestive selling” effort, as in, I was already buying another book about cults, and this one was also suggested. I’m assuming this because, before I read this book, I had never heard of the cult that is highlighted in Mr. Huddle’s story. Huddle and his ex wife and children were members of the Word of Faith Fellowship, otherwise known as WOFF. This “church” is based in Spindale, North Carolina, and is led by Jane Whaley, and her husband, Sam.

WOFF is a Protestant, non-denominational church. It began in 1979, when the Whaleys converted a former steakhouse into a place of worship. Ms. Whaley was a math teacher, while her husband sold used cars. Although neither had formal training in divinity, Jane Whaley was known as a powerful and charismatic speaker and a compelling leader. Since 1979, she’s seen her cult grow from its humble beginnings consisting of a few people to a couple thousand followers in countries around the world– Brazil, Scotland, and Sweden among them. According to Huddle, Jane Whaley claimed to be a conduit to God, and she made up a long list of “do’s and don’ts” for members. Those who violated the rules were punished with Jane’s wrath. Huddle writes of loud praying, loud screaming, and physical, emotional, and mental abuse delivered by church leaders.

A news story about WOFF followers who left the church due to abuse.

In functional, stoic prose, Huddle explains how he and his ex wife, Martha, met, married, and fell under Jane Whaley’s spell. While I wouldn’t describe Huddle’s writing as particularly dynamic or exciting, I was definitely interested in his story. Of course I find reading about restrictive cults interesting, but I was also compelled to read because, like me, he is a Virginia native who eventually lived in the Carolinas. I recognized a lot of the places he mentions in his book, since I went to graduate school at the University of South Carolina, and later lived in North Carolina with my husband. My husband is an ex Mormon, and I have a cousin who was a Jehovah’s Witness for years, so I have a personal connection to “culty” religious beliefs. And I really had no idea that WOFF existed before I read Locked In.

In many ways, WOFF’s beliefs and rules reminded me of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, with some twists. Whaley didn’t want her followers to celebrate holidays or birthdays. She didn’t even want them to eat turkey on Thanksgiving, although they were welcome to eat it any other time of the year. She didn’t want them to celebrate Halloween, but it was okay to buy the discounted candy on November 1. When Huddle needed heart surgery, he told his doctor that he didn’t want the anesthesia, Versed, nor was the surgeon allowed to play music during the procedure. But it was okay to give him a blood transfusion, which the JWs would have vetoed. He made these stipulations because of Jane Whaley’s rules.

Huddle also had to get approval for any jobs he took. Huddle’s work was mostly in banking, specifically with credit unions. But Jane Whaley and other leaders in the church wanted him to work with church affiliated businesses, even if they didn’t pay enough to meet his financial needs or weren’t the kind of work he wanted to do. When Huddle was caught interviewing for, and moonlighting at, a non-approved job, he got in “trouble” with Jane, and was fired from his church approved job. But of course, his boss had expected Huddle to get right with God and come groveling back to work. He hadn’t expected that Huddle would finally realize that he was in a cult.

Another story about the WOFF.

Making the realization that WOFF is a cult cost Huddle his family, as they weren’t at the same level of awareness that Huddle was. That’s one of the saddest repercussions I’ve seen of people getting involved in culty belief systems. Many times, people fall into cults because they’re seeking solidarity and connection with others. But then, when the rules are too weird and restrictive, and one or two people can’t bear it anymore, they end up being ostracized by their loved ones. I saw it happen to my own husband, although one of his daughters eventually came around and stopped shunning him. I think the LDS church is also trying to be less “weird”, as they want to be seen as mainstream, even if a lot of what they do and some of their beliefs and practices are decidedly “culty”. Watch the news videos, though, and you actually hear Whaley scream, and hear in their voices what happened. They were literally screamed at and abused by Jane Whaley, whom they were supposed to call “Grandmother”.

And another story about the WOFF’s abuses toward members.
A continuation.

I got quite a jolt from the long list of rules Huddle described in the WOFF church. The main rule was this:

Members were required to live life as if Jane Whaley was the ONLY true source of the knowledge of God or God’s will.

Huddle, John. Locked in: My Imprisoned Years in a Destructive Cult (p. 129). Survivor Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.

And Jane had a very long and specific list of the way she expected her followers to behave. Here’s a list of 144 “don’ts” from Mr. Huddle’s book. As you can see, some of the rules aren’t that unreasonable, but some are totally intrusive and ridiculous:

I first started posting about the “WOFF Don’t” list in February of 2010. Some rules on this list are now obsolete. WOFF Don’t list Don’ts – (this is a partial “living” list, at times, it takes on a life of its own, continuing to grow…)

Don’t drink alcohol (includes beer, wine or liquor)

Don’t cook with alcohol.

Don’t eat at places that serve alcohol.

Don’t drink root beer.

Don’t drink Cheerwine®.

Don’t drink diet Cheerwine®.

Don’t drink ginger ale.

Don’t smoke cigarettes.

Don’t dip snuff.

Don’t use chewing tobacco.

Don’t associate willingly with those that do use tobacco.

Don’t watch movies (unless Jane gives approval).

Don’t watch videos in your cars.

Don’t enter a movie theater (unless Jane gives approval).

Don’t read newspapers not even the headlines.

Don’t listen to the radio.

Don’t read or handle magazines.

Don’t watch television (except when allowed at church).

Don’t read books that are not approved by leadership.

Don’t read your Bible too much (Amplified version is acceptable).

Don’t take notes during the services. Only record scripture references.

Don’t forget to go to bathroom before the service.

Don’t get up to go to bathroom during a service.

Don’t bring knives of ANY type on church property.

Don’t be late for a service or function.

Don’t park alongside the left side of the sanctuary unless you are approved to do so.

Don’t park in the spaces closest to the back steps. Those are reserved for parents with infants.

Don’t park in the first spot along the front sidewalk. That is reserved for those on watch.

Don’t park along the street. Use the field only when not raining.

Don’t park on the drive to the school (unless approved for that service).

Don’t park in the first handicap space unless approved.

Don’t park under the awning and leave your car running.

Don’t speed when driving around the church.

Don’t go opposite to the accepted traffic flow of counterclockwise. It causes confusion.

Don’t be on your cell phone when approaching the school.

Don’t drive your car with expired tags. You will be reminded.

Men: Don’t wear a color of dress shirt except white or light blue.

Women: Don’t get your heart set on a dress until you check with others to see if anyone else has that dress. You may need to return yours.

Don’t “check out” during the singing.

Don’t look around at others when you are supposed to be singing.

Don’t close your eyes when singing. You could give over to a “religious devil.”

Don’t stare at visitors.

Don’t bring your cell phone into a service. Exceptions are rare and you will be told when you can bring your phone into the service.

Don’t take pictures during a regular service.

Don’t make your own recording of a service.

Don’t bring visitors unless you tell someone in the office so they can tell Jane.

Don’t take pictures of Jane or other members unless you are given permission.

Don’t be loose with your camera at any time.

Don’t put large amounts of cash in the offering unless it is in an envelope.

Don’t complain when the offering plates are passed more than once.

Don’t allow your toddlers to eat in the sanctuary.

Don’t bring snacks or dark drinks or chocolate.

Don’t chew gum in the sanctuary.

Don’t fall asleep during the services. If you get tired, take your Bible and stand up in the back of the sanctuary.

Don’t wear muddy shoes or boots into the sanctuary, leave them at the door-outside.

Don’t leave your tissues after services. Place them in the trash.

Don’t leave coats, Bibles or personal belongings in the sanctuary. It gets locked after each service.

Don’t touch the thermostats in the church unless you are approved.

Don’t wear jeans (exception may be for construction work…maybe).

Don’t wear shorts.

Don’t wear sleeveless dresses or tops.

Don’t wear dresses above the knees.

Don’t wear a bathing suit without having it covered with long shorts (below the knees) and a dark t-shirt.

Don’t wear cargo pants.

Don’t wear or own anything with Nike® on it. Nothing.

Don’t wear black tennis shoes.

Don’t wear high-cut, boot-like tennis shoes.

Men: don’t wear solid white tennis shoes.

Don’t wear a baseball cap sideways or backwards.

Don’t wear t-shirts with slogans or pictures.

Don’t wear “muscle t-shirts.” Men:

Don’t leave the house without a white t-shirt on under your top shirt.

Don’t go swimming with boys and girls together.

Don’t leave the pool toys out when you are done using the pool.

Don’t go outside without sunscreen (daily).

Men: Don’t allow facial hair to grow. No beards, of any type. No “pork chop” sideburns.

Men: Don’t let your hair get long or unkempt.

Don’t interview for a job unless it is “under authority.”

Don’t accept a job unless you check it out with authority.

Don’t make plans for college unless you have Jane check it out.

Don’t sign-up for classes unless Jane Whaley or leadership checks out your schedule.

Don’t buy a house unless Jane Whaley can check it out. Don’t even make an offer on a house unless Jane can “check out” and “get a feel” for the neighborhood.

Don’t decorate your house unless Jane or her helper can help you.

Don’t buy a car without checking with Sam first.

Don’t sell a car or truck without checking with Sam first.

Don’t get major repairs done without checking with Sam.

Don’t buy insurance without checking with the approved church source person for insurance.

Don’t plan a vacation or time away with your family unless you check it out with Jane.

Don’t assume you can go to the funeral or a wedding of a family member without checking it out and/or someone from the church is going with you.

Don’t celebrate Christmas.

Don’t give gifts to others unless you are “under authority.”

Don’t celebrate Easter.

Don’t celebrate other holidays.

Don’t eat turkey on Thanksgiving.

Don’t celebrate your birthday or others in your family or group of friends or co-workers.

Don’t celebrate wedding anniversaries.

Don’t go hunting. Don’t go fishing (well unless it is on an approved “ministry” trip).

Don’t hunt or fish just for sport.

Don’t have bumper stickers on your car (Political season is an exception).

Don’t have “dingle dangles” hanging from your rearview mirror.

Don’t have a slogan license plate on the front of your car.

Don’t buy or drive a “race car” looking car.

Don’t play games on your computer. Erase/delete the games.

Don’t play games on your cell phone. Erase/delete them.

Don’t own or use a “game boy” or other hand held electronic game device.

Don’t play with regular playing cards.

Don’t play hide and go seek.

Don’t play Monopoly®.

Don’t play football.

Don’t ride in the back of a pick-up truck.

Don’t play ping pong.

Don’t play pool.

Don’t play or imitate an “air guitar.”

Don’t play music without singing the words.

Don’t whistle.

Don’t let WOFF children play with children outside of WOFF.

Don’t let children make animal sounds (maybe).

Don’t let children play toy musical instruments (maybe).

Don’t forget to read your Bible before you go to bed.

Don’t let children play with camping toys.

Don’t let children play with “play tools.”

Don’t let children have Bibles with stories and pictures of Jesus (maybe…).

Don’t be late for anything. Be early.

Don’t iron double creases in your pants.

Men: Don’t use urinals that are not enclosed.

Don’t store personal garments unless they are folded neatly in the drawer.

Don’t go to tanning beds.

Don’t ride motorcycles.

Don’t ride ATV’s or dirt bikes.

Men: African American- Don’t shave your head bald.

Don’t start a relationship without checking it out with Jane Whaley.

Don’t decide who you will marry without checking it out with Jane.

Don’t talk to the other person who you are in relationship with unless someone is listening and “guarding the conversation.”

Don’t talk loose and joke around.

Don’t be foolish.

Don’t complain about the list of “don’ts.”

Don’t place the toilet paper on the roll unless it rolls over the top.

Don’t speak to those who have left WOFF unless you ask Jane.

Don’t ask anyone but Jane about those who lately have not been seen in services.

Don’t go in the sanctuary with “sin in your heart,” deal with it before service.

Don’t expect someone else to clean-up your mess.

Don’t back-talk or give excuses for your sin.

Don’t “attack” those in authority.

Don’t question Jane’s authority to run WOFF.

Huddle, John. Locked in: My Imprisoned Years in a Destructive Cult (pp. 118-124). Survivor Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.

I appreciated reading Locked In, because I honestly had never heard of this cult before, and I enjoyed reading about Huddle’s experiences in places that were familiar to me. But, if I’m honest, I think this book would have been better if it had been written by someone with more of a flair for writing. Huddle’s writing isn’t terrible, but it’s not very exciting to read. And there was one particular phrase he used twice that made me cringe. At the beginning– prelude– to the book, he writes:

The first awareness of a strange breeze blowing occurred when I saw my wife standing outside the office door in the fellowship hall. She was as nervous as a bridled filly waiting to jump and run. Her nervousness should have sounded a loud alarm, but I missed it.

Huddle, John. Locked in: My Imprisoned Years in a Destructive Cult . Survivor Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.

Then, at the end of the book, he includes the same passage:

The first awareness of a strange breeze blowing occurred when I saw my wife standing outside the office door in the fellowship hall. She was as nervous as a bridled filly waiting to jump and run. Her nervousness should have sounded a loud alarm, but I missed it.

Huddle, John. Locked in: My Imprisoned Years in a Destructive Cult (p. 165). Survivor Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.

I get the sense that he was trying to be very descriptive about his wife’s strange and unordinary behavior. The trouble is, he doesn’t use these kinds of phrases throughout the book, so it sort of sticks out like a sore thumb and becomes a little contrived. Most of the book is written in a more mundane style, without any fancy similes. I’m not trying to say I would have wanted more descriptions like the one above, which struck me as a little bit over the top. I’m saying that a more relaxed, conversational style might have made the simile work better, and seem less out of place. But I don’t think the book is poorly written. I just think the language is a little bit stiff, which may make the book less interesting and harder to read for some readers.

Personally, I’m glad I took the time to read Locked In. I learned something new from this book, although I highly doubt I ever would have been tempted to join the faith. I’m glad to know about it, just the same, and I think some people will be very interested in Mr. Huddle’s story. I give it three and a half stars out of five, in spite of my misgivings about the writing style. I think the topic is original and fascinating, and the story offers valuable information and a warning to others, which makes it well worth reading. But I also think it’s worth watching the news videos about this church, which really drive home how very abusive and dangerous this cult is.

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memories, mental health, narcissists, nostalgia

A shaken can of soda…

I often think of my husband’s dealings with his abusive ex wife as being akin to being trapped in a can of soda that is being shaken. You know what happens when you shake a can of soda. The bubbles get agitated and pressure builds. If someone happens to open the can while it’s agitated, the liquid spews out all over the place, making a huge mess. As we were talking about the most recent situation last night, I was reminded once again. It’s like dealing with a can of soda that has been shaken. Once you’ve been exposed to such a situation, it can replicate in similar situations. You learn habits that might not be the best for dealing with problems. Instead of taking a deep, cleansing breath and being mindful, maybe you’ll explode, like a can of Coke that was just used as a maraca.

This morning, I read about Will Smith’s decision to resign from the Academy in the wake of his decision to hit Chris Rock during his performance last week. I’m sure that this decision wasn’t an easy one for Smith to make. In fact, I’ll bet he’s had a difficult week. I don’t necessarily think he’s wrong to step down, in spite of his Oscar win. What he did was very seriously fucked up, although many people are still saying that Smith was only standing up for his wife. But, as I read about the decision Will made, and remembered what happened at the Oscar Awards ceremony last week, I was suddenly a little bit “triggered” by an old memory. Seeing Chris Rock being hit on live television reminded me of something that happened to me in 1993.

It was June, and my family decided, for some strange reason, to rent a beach house in Corolla, North Carolina. My parents, my three sisters, my brother in law, my baby niece, my brother in law’s brother, Mike, and my ex friend and my sister’s ex friend, Peggy, were all there. The house was very full, with many different personalities in attendance and a lot of alcohol flowing. I was twenty years old, and would be turning twenty-one in a matter of a couple of weeks.

I remember that at that time in my life, I wasn’t getting along with my dad. Actually, for most of the time he was alive when I was an adult, I didn’t get along with my dad. He was often abusive to me, although I’m not sure I recognized it at the time. Add in my sisters and their strong personalities, my brother-in-law, who loves watching us fight, my former friend and Peggy, as well as a baby, and you have a potential recipe for disaster. To make matters worse, I had PMS and was about to start my period.

One night several days into the “vacation”, we all went out to dinner, and my dad was really getting on my nerves.  I made some snarky comment that was directed at my dad.  I don’t remember what I said, but my sister’s friend, Peggy, heard it and apparently thought I was talking to her.  Suddenly, all hell broke loose.  The next day, my sister’s friend suddenly decided to leave.  I remember she had given me $10 because I had planned to make dinner the next night and she asked for the money back.  At the time, I didn’t understand why she was leaving.  I had no beef with her.

All that day, my sister was being shitty to me.  She wouldn’t tell me what her problem was.  I finally lost my temper and confronted her.  She said she was mad at me.  My dad, who had been drinking, decided to break us up.  He stormed over to us and took me into a room, where he proceeded to berate me for two or three hours.  At one point, he hit me in the face, HARD.  I was shocked and told him that if he had been someone on the street, I could have him arrested for assault and battery.  And then I told him that if he ever raised a hand to me again, I would have him arrested.

He exploded.  His face turned beet red and he said, “You go right ahead!  Call the police!”  Then he made some comment about how I lived in his house and I could just pack up and leave.  At some point, I hit my arm on something and developed a really nasty bruise.

I remember that no one helped me during that confrontation, which left me really upset and feeling completely worthless and stepped on.  And then, by that point, I’d started my period, which is probably why I was so irritable and made that rude comment in the first place.

My sisters later came in to talk to me.  The one who had been mad at me explained what had upset her so much that this huge blowup happened.  I told her that I hadn’t been talking to or about her friend, and if she had just asked me, we could have avoided this whole thing.  The scene was embarrassing and traumatic, especially since there were a couple of people there who weren’t family members and had witnessed this Mommie Dearest moment between my dad and me.  The worst part of it, though, was that the next day, my dad acted as if nothing had ever happened.  My sister ended up losing contact with her “friend”, who turned out to be not such a good friend after all.

Five years later, my dad lost his temper again and threatened to hit me. I reminded him of the last time he hit me and what I said to him. He backed off and then started screaming at me. I ended up leaving. Unfortunately, at that time, I was kind of paralyzed. Though I was 26 years old at the time, I was living with my parents and had nowhere to go for more than a night or two. Not long after that, I got on the right depression meds and finally managed to start making plans to get out of my parents’ home. I needed to for their sake, but especially for mine.

Every once in awhile, those old memories resurface. I get “triggered” by certain things. I think watching Chris Rock being slapped by Will Smith was very triggering for me. And the more I think about what happened, the more I realize how wrong Will Smith’s actions were. I think it’s right for him to resign from the Academy. I hope he gets some help for his issues.

Then I started thinking about Chris Rock’s actual joke. Yes, it was tasteless. I don’t really find jokes about other people’s looks funny, as a general rule. But then I think of all of the jokes my favorite comedian, George Carlin, told over the years. I remember when he described former second lady Marilyn Quayle as looking like Prince Charles. I remember jokes Joan Rivers used to make about celebrities and their looks. Don’t even get me started on Eddie Murphy, Jim Carrey, and Don Rickles! I’m not saying it’s “PC” to make fun of how people look, but comedians have always done it. Kids do it on playgrounds. It’s almost like it’s instinct.

And while I think it would be good if Chris Rock and his fellow humorists came up with other jokes, I also realize that when it comes down to it, Rock was comparing Jada Pinkett Smith to a beautiful woman. Demi Moore, who was the lead in G.I. Jane, was in her prime at the time. She was strong, badass, and gorgeous. Yes, she shaved her head for the role, but she was still amazing looking, even if the film itself was kind of stupid.

Jada, herself, even said that she didn’t give “two craps” about what people thought of her bald head. So why was Will Smith so enraged? His profane tirade after slapping Rock also brought back terrible memories. I wouldn’t want to see that again. I think if there’s any chance that Will Smith would ever feel so entitled to walk up on a stage and hit someone like that, he should not be part of the show. This isn’t to mean I think he should be canceled, per se… If he gets some help and learns to control himself, okay. But that was traumatizing for me to watch on video. I actually chose to watch it, knowing what happened beforehand. I’m glad it didn’t take me by surprise.

In any case, watching that event unfold– a triangle involving Will Smith, Jada Pinkett Smith, and Chris Rock– reminded me of that “shaken can of soda” sense I get sometimes when we talk about Ex… or I’m reminded of that time in my past, when I was regularly having to deal with my dad and his tendency to be violent when the mood struck. Maybe it’s a mild form of PTSD I have, because I realize now that I am no longer able to tolerate abuse. I react badly, as if I’m “saturated”, when there’s abuse afoot. What Will Smith did was definitely abusive and traumatic, not just for Chris Rock, but for everyone who watched it unfold. He reminded me of my dad… and that is not a good thing.

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