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Name: | Bradley Glanzner
([email protected])
| | Date: | 11/10/2011 11:53:15 PM | | Subject: | I was abused at Bethel Boys Academy | | | I found this site, by my girlfriend, we were discussing some of my painful past, and after reading testimonials I feel entitled to share my story.... (I give permission to Heal to publish my story)
I was forced to go to Bethel Baptist Boys Home (Academy) before it was called "Bethel Boys Academy" by my dead beat father. I was there in 1995-97'....
When I first arrived, I was given a bible verse to memorize if I didn't memorize the verse I was beaten with a switch that I was forced to go out and pick myself. When I didn't pick one they approved of, they used a axe handle instead. When I first arrived the food was better than what it is now. Mrs Fountain and her daughter actually cooked.
However the working conditions were out right horrible. They called it 'Nigger Crew,' you had to dig a ditch up to your chest, that was over an 8th of a mile long, for a pipe that was never to go in. 3 days later My "Nigger Crew" and I were told to fill the ditch back in and make it look like there was never a ditch in, meaning we had to fill the grass in too.
The house that the Fountains live in, was built by us, NOT a contracted crew. Also no one was ever paid for the labor on the house. Instead we were beaten, if something wasn't to his (Mr. Fountain Sr. and Bubba) specifications.
I have witnessed some horrific things, but nothing compares to when Drill Instructor Knott Arrived. If I could I would sue the Marines for training him. The day DI KNOT got there, he made us all strip down to our boxers, and run 10 laps around the dorm, in the middle of MS summer.
Whenever parents would send packages to the Home, DI KNOT would take apart the care packages, taking what he wanted and leaving only a letter, or cookies. Many kids never got the games, clothes or pictures that families would lovingly send to their children.
The first week DI KNOT was there, we were forced to shave our head bald, (when I was there, there was a 10 yr old boy there, that DI KNOT treated as though he was an older teen...) first night we never got any sleep, the lights stayed on for 2 weeks straight. We only ate when DI KNOT told us to. KNOT also taught us how to make explosives.
During his first 2 weeks, we had to change our uniforms from civilian clothes to camo pants and a white top, if we had any stains on the white top he would rip the shirt, not permitting you to change the shirt, you also didn't get to eat for that day. We also had to throw away all the clothes that our families had given to us.
He made us exercise to the point where no one could remain standing, he made us do "up-downs" and "monkey humpers", he also loved to have us sit on a wall, with us holding our arms out straight, holding onto butter knives and as soon as the knives touched we had to start over, this went on for hours.
A few months later, KNOT decided to introduce to the "Academy", that we would be doing 'boxing' and 'pugle sticks', I DO NOT LIKE FIGHTING. Before Bethel Boys Academy I wasn't a violent person.
During the boxing matches we would have, we would hold the matches inside the dorm. I broke my nose 3 times due to boxing, and never received medical attention to have my nose reset, I know live with a disfigured nose and a deviated ceptum. I have scares littering my legs, my arms and my face because of them and their forced activities (FIGHTING) I had personally watched a kid get knocked out and as he's falling, he hit his head on a bunk bed, splitting his head open, to which he never received medical attention (stitches) and now lives with a horrible disfigurement on his head.
I know 3 people that have tried to kill themselves because of KNOT's torture (I will not name names, but you know who you are...) One guy jumped out of the second story floor, purposely landing on his head, trying to kill himself. When he was taken to the hospital, they lied to the hospital and said that he fell and hurt himself. Brought him back to the 'Academy' and beat and tortured him for 3 days and put him in a box out in the SUN... like a hotbox. 2 weeks later the kid ran away, he got caught, got beat again and then I never saw him again.
Another kid drank bleach, went into convulsions, started to throw up blood. I never saw him again.
Another kid slit his wrists in the 'head' or bathroom, never saw him again after that.
I had done something stupid and as my punishment I had 3 days to do 10,000 pushups. I did pushups for 72hrs straight, I could not bend my arms for 3 weeks. I was forced to eat like a dog on the floor. After my arms healed, all the boys from the downstairs dorm thought it would be a good idea to throw me a "Blanket Party" - which consists of having a blanket being thrown over you, 4 people hold the blanket down so you can't get up and then everyone came over and proceeded to beat me. I was hit in the spine with a trailer hitch so hard I felt my spine crack. I laid there screaming for 15 mins before DI KNOT came downstairs and decided to do his job. When in fact there were camera's filming everything, he just watched. (I found this out later, when I went into his room and found the tape of my beating)
6 months after that we did these things called "war games" where you dress up in fatigues and you do drills in the rain and mud, water and sand. War Games consisted of two teams similar to capture the flag. But instead of weapons, you had to use a stick. That day 8 kids got poison oak, one person had a broken arm, 2 more kids had busted lips, 2 more kids had broken hands. While I was told by my squad leader to hide in the pond, under the dock. And as a result, I now have chronic Bronchitis, I was sick for 3 weeks, coughing up blood and even pooped blood from the beatings. I was taken to the doctor, and as I was in the doctors office 'Bubba" aka John Fountain was sitting in the exam room the whole time, so I never got to tell the doctor about how I really received my injuries.
Many many injuries have occurred there, I have personally witnessed DI KNOT, making a 14 yr old boy with Asthma run 10 mile laps around the property with no inhaler, the kid had an Asthma attack and nearly died from the experience.
When it came down to our Drills, (Marching in formation) some kids were told to smack other kids in the head if they were out of step. DI KNOT used his "cadets" as his fucked up little minions.
For the people that did run away, they sent out a posse of ADULTS: (Hermann Fountain, Bubba, DI KNOT, and Frank Dispino) 99% of the time when the kids got caught, you wouldn't see them for a week. I hadn't thought about it before, but I can now understand why he kept his septic tank above ground.
One day DI KNOT decided it would be a good idea for him to introduce to the 'Academy' two fighting pit bulls named "Tiny" (female) and "Polo" (male) He had me train Polo for fighting. Everyday I was to kick the dog, yell at it and feed it three 7.62 mm bullet shells full of gun powder mixed in with the dogs food at every meal so the dog would purposely go insane.
3 months after that, DI KNOT had taken Polo out for a night of dog fighting. When I saw Polo later that night, he was covered from his head to his stomach in blood, including deep gashes on his neck and hind quarters. I was told to give him a bath and care for his wounds. (It seems like he cared more for his dogs than actual people) The next day, DI KNOT bragged to the entire dorm during breakfast that his dog had KILLED a full grown Rottweiler by the school that we went to. Later that day, I walked over by the school, and found a huge pile of dried blood, some hair and a skull fragment. After that I told DI KNOT personally that if I ever saw him do this again, I would cut his balls off and feed his dogs and make him watch. From that day forward he never fought a dog again, that I'm aware of.
As far as showers and bathrooms were concerned you had to ask, "DI KNOT may this cadet use the head?" 40% of the time the answer was yes, the other 60% of the time the answer was to 'hold it' or 'no'. I saw kids who had crapped themselves and peed themselves from being unable to follow the command. Shower time consisted of 3 mins, the 3 mins started the minute you touched the shower. If you weren't naked by the time you got to the shower, the time spent undressing was part of your shower time. Some kids didn't get to take showers for 3 or more days because they couldn't get their boots off fast enough. For the kids that didn't shower they were beat or forced to exercise to the point of exhaustion.
I can remember one incident in particular. We were woken up at 2:30am and forced to get out of our bed in the middle of winter, get down on the floor and start exercising until noon. Part of the punishment DI KNOT insued would be to fill up the mop bucket full of water and dump it out on the floor and make you soak it up with your clothing as you were exercising... they were called "duck walks," you had to crouch down into almost a sitting position but your feet were still flat on the floor and you had to scoot forward slowly mopping up the water. Every time we filled the bucket up, he would dump the water back out and make us start again. No one ate anything that day until dinner. Kids were pushed past their physical limits to the point of exhaustion and tears. (I cant remember what anyone did to deserve this punishment, when one kid got in trouble, we all suffered the consequences of the actions of one)
(Now I can see why the United States Marine Corps DISHONORABLY DISCHARGED DI KNOT FOR HIS INHUMAN TREATMENT OF PEOPLE AND ANIMALS)
Bradley Glanzner
A Bethel Baptist Boys Home Survivor
1995-1997
PS - If you were in this with me, please write to me... We need to sue these people bad. My life has never been the same since this experience and I'm sure your's is just like mine.
[email protected] (my email address)
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| 75 | |
Name: | Allison
([email protected])
| | Date: | 10/16/2011 12:02:13 AM | | Subject: | 31 days, verbal abuse, and false accusations | | | Hello,
My name is Allison. I am 24 and I spent 2 years at Cross Creek Academy. from septemeber 2001- august 2003. It was horrible. I think I was more lost and confused when I got out. It made me socially akward and unable to think for myself. My own brother and sister were weirded out by my personality change. They still to this day regreat that I ever went there. My sister is 10 years older then me and she has nightmares that my step mom will send me away and I come back as someone else. They said I almost seemed brainwashed. I feel like now that I am much older and going to therapy that I not only have to deal with the pain of childhood, but on top of that I have to sort through everything that happened to me at Cross Creek. I am still trying to rationalize the "processes" I had to go through. I constantly wonder "what was that suppose to teach me?" I feel like the whole time I was there I had to survive. I had to keep all the staff happy and play these emotional games to keep pushing through so I could get out.
Once, I was put on silence for 31 days. During the 31 days no one was allowed to communicate with me at all and I had to write essays. When I was done with essay's my therapist would have another girl rip it up in my face. The essay's continued over the 31 days. This included Christmas and new years. I didn't get to have any free time because I had to write these essays. Even during class I had to put my academics asside in order to try and get this impossble ammount of words my therapist assigned me. My therapist denied me therapy during this time as well. And when I would go to him and ask him to get off the silence he would call me bad names and yell at me. When I was finally off the silence I asked him why he did that and he told me he was trying to mimick the abuse of my step father to open me up. EXCUSE ME! BUT THAT DOES NOT SEEM HEALTHY!!
When I finally came out to my parents and said that my step brother was abusive and that I was afraid to go home my therapist dropped me to level one and said that I needed to go back to the manor because I play games with my parents. Of course after that I had to play their game and apologyze to my family and tell them "I have trust issues" so I could move back up in phases. This therapist picked on certain girls. There was a group of us that tuck together and I feel that we were the most picked on by him.
Once, I burned myself on the stove in the kitchen on accident and I was put on suicide watch because they thought I did it on purpose and wouldn't believe me that I didn't. Suicide watch entails being watched during your shower and going to the restroom. And you have to listen to audimated tapes on repeat and fill out questionaires...ALL DAY!
The list goes on and on. I feel emotionally abused by this place and I am still in therapy because of it.
Don't send you kids here. Move them out of their situation. Transfer their schools and put them in therapy. All they need is someone to listen to them. Believe it or not, but they are not acting out for no reason. One of these schools will only make things worse. | | | Post Reply | Display replies to this message
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| 74 | |
Name: | Amanda
([email protected])
| | Date: | 8/15/2011 8:37:03 PM | | Subject: | Hope Christian Home %26 Academy in Duck Hill, Mississippi | | | I would like to report on Hope Home and Christian Academy. When I was 15 (I'm 23 now), I was sent to Hope Home and Christian Academy in Mississippi. Unlike a lot of the other girls there, I was only there for a year--April 2004-April 2005.
One of the punishments there that I experienced and which most disturbed me was isolation. I once mentioned atheism to another girl there, she told a staff member, and they separated me from the rest of the girls in the home. I was not allowed to talk to or even look at the other girls for a month. I was in a room in the other end of the house, by myself and could only talk to staff members when they talked to me. This was called being on "group separation" and "silence". Though I never experienced it, I certainly heard the effects of what they called "licks", which were spankings. Other punishments included writing sentences, standing against the wall (from 30 minutes to hours at a time), being on silence, and being on separation from individual girls.
Even though most girls are sent there after being sexually and emotionally abused at home or in various foster homes, there is absolutely no counselor in the house. Strict Christianity is forced on the girls. They must read the Bible in the morning, then go into the schooling room for Christian homeschooling, etc. They do not leave the house aside from going to church and VERY occasionally going to a gas station or Walmart. When I came back from the home, I felt as though I'd missed a whole years worth of events, because I had.
I was yelled at for not holding Christian beliefs and was made to write 2,000 sentences when they caught me throwing up in the bathroom once. As someone with eating issues, I needed a counselor, not punishment.
Communication with anyone outside of the home is heavily censored. Girls are allowed one phone call a month with their parents, but it takes place on speakerphone in front of the main staff members. Because of this, girls can't really be honest about how things are going unless they want the staff member to know it as well or possibly intervene if they say things they don't want them to say. I never said anything out of line, so I'm not sure what happens if someone does. Other than that once monthly phone call, no others can be made or received. All other communication must be done by way of sending letters. These letters are given to a staff member, who reads it to make sure the girl doesn't say anything she isn't supposed to or that they wouldn't approve of, and then they are sent out. When a girl receives a letter or an email, a staff member first goes through it to make sure it doesn't say anything they don't approve of. Once or twice, I received a letter in which small pieces had been cut out.
I once snuck some chocolate candy from the counter and the biggest girl at the home was then blamed for it. Only later did I found out that she'd felt so pressured about it, she'd admitted to taking the candy. The same thing happened when I snuck some cookies once. We were well fed, but the food was locked up and I grabbed snacks when no one was looking every now and then.
The only form of counsel is Brother P, the leader of the home. All counsel is Bible-based and is in no way professional. Sometimes, he became angry and yelled at the girls (myself included, especially when it came to stating beliefs). He commented alot on the fact that I ate a lot when I was home and, when I tried to restrict myself upon first coming there, he yelled at me about that.
Once, a 9 year old girl at the home snuck a pair of scissors and cut off a little of her bangs while no one was looking. When she lied about doing it, Brother P took a pair of scissors and cut her long hair off up to her ears, making it look terrible as a punishment for lying. Today, that girl is 15, was recently abused by her adopted parents and is now in a foster home.
I am sure that if this place is investigated, they will tell the girls to be on their best behavior and they will be, because those girls want to act well so that they can go home. I keep in touch with many girls who formerly were there with me, and they have very few positive things to say about the home. No one-on-one communication is ever allowed between two girls and conversation is closely monitored by everyone there. If anyone mentions a non-Christian song, etc. or anything about their past, one of the girls will approach a staff member and tell on them for what they've done. Every girl there (in my experience) was eager to go back home, so they sold out anyone and everyone for every little thing.
I really feel that this place should be shut down. Girls basically feel like they're always in trouble when they're there, even though many of them need somewhere peaceful to get away from everything they've experienced previously. Instead, they're locked up in a house with 10-11 other girls, no privacy, and Christianity coming at them from every direction, including a requirement to wear long dresses at all times. I'm sure that no one at that home will sell the place out, but I am willing to tell the truth. I've heard of autistic girls going in and being punished for their behavior by having to stand against the wall for hours in the day instead of anyone acknowledging the autism. It isn't effective and it is VERY harmful. Something needs to be done and this is heavy on my heart, which is why I've decided to submit this.
I give HEAL permission to use this statement. I declare under penalty of perjury that the foregoing is true and correct. Executed on August 15, 2011
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| 73 | |
Name: | liz
([email protected])
| | Date: | 8/13/2011 9:18:43 PM | | Subject: | My Eleven Years in Residential Treatment Centers | | | I have spent eleven years of my life institutionalized. From age of twelve to twenty-three I spent only six months in my own bed.
I had a rough childhood. I was adopted at a young age. In addition to this, in the home of my adoptive family, while between the ages of six to eight years old my sister molested me. I started using drugs at a young age to cope and became addicted. At ten years old my sister set me up with males to perform sexual acts on in exchange for money or drugs. My life was headed in a poor direction. I began hanging around gang members and running away. Eventually, the State became involved, and threatened to remove me from my adoptive family if I didn’t receive help.
The first program I went to was an outdoor program called E-NINI-HASSEE. I was so unhappy I began cutting myself. It got to the point to where I did so constantly, so I was sent to the Hospital. My parents were not told about the situation until I was admitted. Because of the lack of communication, my parents withdrew me from their program and took me home, where I remained for six months. That was the only six months I spent in my own bed until the age of twenty-three.
During those six months I continued my previous behavior and continued to get worse. I began spray painting bridges and dating older men. I did so because I felt as though my family didn’t have enough time for me. At the age of fourteen I began dating a twenty-eight year old gang member. He ended up dying violently by being shot and died in my arms. Him dying was a trigger for me, as he had been a source of emotional support for me. I began cutting myself more often. My parents noticed this and put me in the hospital.
From there my father transported me to a different program in Utah called Cross Creek for three months. In those three months, I spent a majority of my time in isolation. I was restrained painfully countless times for outbursts, and sometimes for less severe infractions. Isolation is where I spent Thanksgiving and Christmas.
While there, without prior knowledge on my part, two people came to me at two o’clock in the morning to escort me as a transfer to their sister facility High Impact in Mexico. Their program there was shocking. Everything was fenced in. They had dog cages to keep the residents in whom misbehaved.
The program was based around walking laps on a dirt track, and a wide array of rules and regulations. It was meant to institute a rapid amount of change. The critera to leave their program was simple; or so I thought. We were required to listen to 60 Alcohol Anonymous tapes and correctly answer questions on the corresponding ‘worksheets.’ Then, we had to complete two-thousand laps around the dirt track. Laps were tracked like points. If you misbehaved, you would be punished by having additional laps to do. The children were treated differently based on whether or not they were sent to their program from home, or another facility. The children who had transferred from other facilities were punished more severely.
Transfer children needed just one rule infraction to have an additional eighty laps. The other children could acquire up to five rule infractions before they were imposed additional laps. The reasoning in this was that transfer children were considered more obstinate.
The majority of my time in their Mexico facility was spent in the cages, laying on my stomach with my arms spread as though I were on a cross. I was not allowed to move from that position. I was kept in that manner for hours, and sometimes the whole day. Had I moved, I would of been subjected to physical restraint. The staff would jam their knees into my back, neck or arms, and would grind my chin into the dirt.
The staff there treated the children there brutally. We were forced into exhausting amounts of exercise. One night I asked for my sleeping bag because it was taken away from me on a very cold night. The over night shift called the manager of the facility. He grabbed me, threw me down, put my head in the toilet, flushed, then pushed me in the shower. He said I had to sleep in wet clothes without a sleeping bag.
On my sixteenth birthday he raped me for the first time. When he was done he said ‘Happy Sweet Sixteen’ and had a staff member escort me off. I was then shoved into a shower with my clothes on. I was raped a total of five times by him. Every morning I woke up there I wondered if I would still be alive long enough to go to sleep that night. I feared it would never end. I was in that program four months. The average stay legnth was two months. However, I was forced to do their high impact program twice.
After my stay I was met at the airport by my father and we flew to another program in Oregon called Crater Lake School, run through a different organization. I was nervous about the change. I was unfamilar with the rules, and because of the previous harsh punishment I experienced in the other programs, I was afraid of making a mistake. I didn’t want to be treated brutally. Once I got acclimated to the facility, I learned it treated its children in a way that was more humane. I didn’t fear being abused and tortured there, and because of that I began to rebel. I became defiant, ran away several times, and began cutting myself again.
One of their counselors became concerned, and asked if I would willingly go to the hospital. I agreed. While in the hospital, my behavior was considered hyper. Because of this, I was tied down to a bed with restraints. Once, I was restrained for sixteen hours, without being able to go to the bathroom. After leaving there, I went back to the referring facility. I became so upset about my trauma, that I began cutting myself again within twenty-four hours.
Because I began cutting myself again, I was sent back to the hospital for two weeks. From there, I was transferred to a different program in Texas called Meridel Achievement Center. I half-heartedly faked my way up the ranks until I was on their highest level. However, I eventually was put back down to their lowest level. It triggered me into cutting myself again. Their staff responded by putting me into isolation and tying me down to the bed in effort of keeping me from harming myself.
My father removed me from that program and we flew together to Tennessee, to bring me to a different facility called Peninsula Village. The beginning of my stay there was similar to a hospital setting. That was considered their programs first stage. However, my behavior led them to strap me down to a rolling bed. They put a mesh body suit on me and injected me with thorozine. I was so out of it I was drooling on myself. In this state, they rolled me out into the main room with the other children. It was humiliating.
Eventually I settled down a bit. After successfully making it past the first stage I went into what was considered an outdoor stage. I slept in a cabin. However, the staff was poorly trained. There were several incidents were I was restrained. Once, I was restrained on chicken wire. I was cut badly by the incident and did not receive medical attention. In another incident I hit my head and suffered a concussion. I didn’t receive medical care for that as well. I was simply taken aside to be watched by staff to make sure I didn’t pass out. For my last two months there I was put into isolation. I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone, or join groups. I was merely supposed to sit on my bed and mind my own business. While I was there, I overheard the doctor speak with my father over the phone. The doctor said to my father ‘if he didn’t want his daughter back they could figure something out.’ After that conversation I was quickly pulled from that program.
When I left I was transferred to another facility in Utah called Pine Ridge Academy. It was a decent facility. But I was still rebellious. I went back and forth to different parts of their program. I went from house to house and was in and out of the hospital for cutting myself, and being physically aggressive with staff during restraint. I remained there until I was eighteen.
After turning eighteen, I was no longer allowed to stay in the group of programs I had been residing in, because they were for children. My parents sent me to a program in Florida that took adults. I enjoyed my stay there. We were treated well. However, I continued to cut myself during my stay and bulimia became a big issue. These issues were more than their program were able to manage, so I was sent to a different program in New York called SLS Health.
I stayed in the program in New York for four and a quarter years. I was heavily medicated there. During my stay I had my phone calls restricted, as well as my ability to send and receive mail. We also were not allowed to leave. The Office of Mental Health did an inspection of the facility and discovered several of our rights were being violated. They were fined and eventually shut down.
Because of the medication I was on while I was there, I had to go to a detox facility after I left. After the detox facility I was sent to a different program. They did extensive group therapy sessions everyday, and based their program around Alcohol and Chemical Dependency Treatment.
After graduating their program I went to a halfway house called Healing Properties. It was a good program that treated the residents well. Despite this, my cutting and eating disorders continued to be a problem, and I became hospitalized. Despite their program being fair, I found a way to mess up, and I did. I was discharged from their program for failing to take my prescribed medications.
Because I was discharged from their program, I was placed in a different halfway house called Harmony House. I did well there for a decent amount of time. Well enough to gain more privileges and a later curfew. However, other residents were also unstable. It became a threatening situation for me due to one particular resident, so my parents placed me in a different halfway house called The Swinton House. I did well there and my family had me return home with them. By the time I returned home I was twenty-three years old. I stayed with them briefly, before being put into a group home by my family. Two months later that particular group home was shut down for financial reasons.
I began looking for a place of my own to rent after that. I went through section 8 to subsidize my housing based off my income. I shared an apartment with a roommate for a year and a half. I eventually moved out because the living situation became too stressful, as my roommate was emotionally unstable. I wound up putting myself in the hospital because the stress triggered traumatic event memories from my stay at the program in Mexico, where I was abused physically and sexually.
I now live in a home with a beautiful garden that I share with a friend of mine. It makes things a little easier being in a calmer setting. Right now, I am still managing issues I have from post-traumatic stress disorder. I have nightmares and flashbacks on a daily basis. It is a struggle. Despite this, I am trying to work through my past and am attempting to discover meaning in life.
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