Carolyn Jessop; Laura Palmer (40 page)

A New Life Begins

T
he next morning Dan Fisher came over to Jolene’s and told me the emergency order of protection was in place. Now if Merril grabbed the children he’d be in a lot of trouble. Dan said if I felt I needed still more protection, I could move into the battered women’s shelter in West Jordan. But he added that he and Leenie would be delighted to have us return to their residence.

This was a no-brainer for me. My children had been too traumatized by our escape to go into the shelter system. I felt we would be safe enough at Dan’s. He sat down and had coffee with me. We were sitting around Jolene’s table with her husband, Neil Jessop, who was a relative of Merril’s—although not close to him. Dan was telling me about the crimes he was hearing about in the FLDS and said I was right to get my children out.

“I never knew what this country’s Founding Fathers fought for until I left,” he said quietly. “Even so, it took me a few years to grasp what it really meant and how deeply it mattered.

“You have a real fight ahead of you,” he went on. “It might mean testifying against Merril and Warren. Neither of these men is going to let you take your children without a fight.”

I knew what Dan Fisher was saying was true. But it terrified me. I was willing to fight for my freedom, but I had not realized that might mean testifying against Warren in court. My fear was that I knew so much about him he would never let me be free. I had witnessed him marrying an underage girl—my stepdaughter Millie, who was seventeen when she married Warren.

I remember Millie going through the motions during her wedding in a robotic way. I knew this wasn’t what she wanted because the day Merril told her she had to marry Warren, she broke out in hysterical sobs. I was just coming into the house and went into Merril’s office to see what was wrong. Millie threw herself into my arms, crying and crying. Merril kept telling her to be brave. It was one of the most helpless moments of my life. At that point, Utah had not passed a law that banned underage women from polygamist marriages. Millie went on to become one of Warren’s favorite wives.

What I later learned was that Warren mistakenly thought Millie was my oldest daughter. This lit a fire in me to do everything I could to protect Betty so she would be spared a similar fate.

Dan said that my best hope of overall protection was to go into the attorney general’s office and tell everything I knew about Warren Jeffs. Bryson started to fuss as I was taking in all that Dan was saying. I was trying to quiet him while I was shaking all over.

“I know what you are saying is right. I will tell them everything I know. But backing out of the FLDS is only one of my concerns. How am I going to take care of my children and support us all? Harrison needs twenty-four-hour-a-day care, and my other seven children are traumatized and afraid of the outside world. My work at home is cut out for me, but I still have to find a way to feed us.”

“Carolyn, listen to me. Of all the women I’ve helped, you are in the best shape of any of them.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant. It seemed impossible to believe that this was true.

“It might take some time to get on your feet,” Dan said, “but at least you have a college education and you’re very intelligent. Most of the women I see have less than a seventh-grade education and no life skills. You’re in a different category altogether.”

Dan and I talked for nearly an hour that morning. He said he would try to get an investigator from the attorney general’s office to meet with me and listen to what I knew about Merril and Warren’s crimes. Dan told me to take it a step at a time so I would not get overwhelmed.

He also reminded me that I was now in an environment with checks and balances. A judge could rule on the evidence in my case rather than condemn me as an immoral woman. I could tell a courtroom about Merril’s abuse instead of having to talk to Warren Jeffs, another perpetrator. I was thirty-five years old and had never been in a fair fight or had anyone on my side. This was going to take some getting used to. But I was not backing down. That was one of the few things about my life I did know.

Dan left, and I went upstairs and started gathering up our things for the move back to Dan’s. My sister Annette came over to help me move. She’d also fled the FLDS. Several years later she met Merril’s half brother Robert—who had also quit the FLDS. They dated for several years, then married and had four children. After living in several different cities, they returned to Salt Lake to be closer to other family members who’d left. Annette and I laughed about the black garbage bags we relied on for suitcases. She had escaped with one; I, with many.

It was a relief to go back to Dan’s guest house. I immediately started doing laundry because we didn’t have enough clothing. My children went outside to play, and I’d never seen them more excited or happier. This was a great adventure for them. Little did they know they were never going back. For the second night in a row I put eight happy children to bed. It felt like a miracle. Betty kept up her threatened hunger strike and claimed she would never eat. But I put food in her bedroom at night and when I went up in the morning, the plate was empty. Arthur was quiet now but concerned. I think he understood what I was trying to do and why. But he was afraid I couldn’t pull it off.

Harrison awakened me the next morning with his crying. I gave him a bath and then took him outside to pull him around Dan’s reservoir in a wagon. The morning was silent with a shimmer to it. Dew was still on the grass as the sun was beginning to rise. I watched two Canadian geese fly low toward the water, then skid across the surface of the reservoir before gliding to a stop.

The world looked brand-new. I was seeing life in color again. For seventeen years I’d lived in a blur of terror and fear. It had taken all my energy to survive my life. I’d noticed a sunset here and there, but there had been no time for beauty, wonder, or marvel.

It hit me all at once. I could suddenly see beauty in an ordinary day: the bright green grass, the emerald pines, and the red, red roses on Dan Fisher’s rosebushes. The forbidden color looked especially brilliant to my grateful eyes.

I took Harrison out of the wagon and sat with him in the grass. I looked up and saw that the gates at the entrance to Dan’s property were locked and a security guard was stationed outside. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt safe. Harrison went into a spasm, and I held his body next to mine to quiet him.

When I looked up, I saw a black truck on a hill above Dan’s property. It was an FLDS truck. I was being monitored. My sweet moment vanished. I put Harrison in the wagon and headed back to the guest house. Once inside, I realized I was still safe. The only power the person in the truck had was the power of observation.

The next day I went with an attorney to file more paperwork for my order of protection. I also got a call from my father, who tried to convince me to stay out of the courts. He said he was sure Merril would help me work things out and that I didn’t need to make such a big fuss.

“Merril and Warren already had their chance to work things through with me, and they both refused,” I said. “If Merril was interested in working with me, he would have done it three years ago.”

“But Carolyn, he didn’t realize you were so serious then,” Dad said. “He doesn’t want his children living outside the community, and he wants you back. He’s willing to let you have your own house.”

“Dad, Merril has never kept one promise he’s made to me. Why should he change now?”

My father told me I didn’t need an attorney. He and Merril could find one for me if I was determined to continue in the courts. I could not believe what I was hearing.

“Dad, do you think I’m that dumb? I’ll be keeping my attorney,” I said. “I am not going to live with Merril’s abuse any longer. I have a clear claim on my children and I’m going to fight for custody.” I had never stood up to my father before. It felt good.

My father was still a true believer and did not feel I had the right to leave and take my children with me. He was helping Merril on principle: in my father’s eyes, Merril owned me the way he owned his car. Dad felt Merril was wrong to abuse me, and he’d never doubted me when I told him what was happening. But he felt now that Merril understood how serious I was, he might be less abusive to me if I came back.

For my father, my salvation was at stake. If I broke the covenants that I’d made with God, I would relinquish all claims to any kind of salvation. So Dad was thinking of the big picture, and within that context, he genuinely believed he was acting in my best interest to encourage me to return.

When Merril’s pressure on my father couldn’t get me to roll over, he turned to my son Arthur. He kept badgering Arthur to make me talk to him. I had been gone for only a week, but Linda told me the things Merril had already started to say about me in church.

Merril accused me of being the worst kind of apostate and said I had turned traitor to the work of God by going to the authorities. He said I planned on destroying his children, and he even accused me of betraying my grandmother, who had stood faithful during the raid on Short Creek in 1953. During that raid, it was said that if one woman turned against the work of God, then every woman could lose her children and the men would be imprisoned. Merril put me in that category of being the one woman who would destroy the work of God in the last days and turn traitor to the prophet.

I told Arthur that now that I knew what Merril was saying about me behind my back, there was no way I’d speak with him. Arthur told his father I’d heard what he had said about me in church. Merril was furious that someone had ratted him out.

Two weeks later, on May 17, 2003, was our seventeenth wedding anniversary. To mark the day, I got a babysitter and went to a salon to have my hair cut and styled. This was the first time I had ever had my hair cut professionally. Annette took me there and we looked through books and magazines to pick out a hairstyle. It felt weird to be looking at all these different and forbidden ways to comb my hair and to know that I could have any of them I wanted!

I had always worn my hair in the FLDS style, which meant a big wave in the front and then pulled tight in the back. Sometimes we wore long braids wrapped around our head. A woman’s hair could never be loose. Sometimes I’d rolled my hair up and put a lace hairnet over it. Now I was overwhelmed by the choices when I looked at all the styles, and had absolutely no idea what would look good on me. Trying to be pretty was such an alien concept. Annette helped me pick a cut that was soft and easy to comb and style. I got a professional perm—which I’d done once before in the FLDS as an act of sheer rebellion—and the stylist taught me how to comb it to match the picture. It felt so strange to me to wear my hair down and without a big wave across the front that was anchored in place with hairspray.

When I got home, I was in the midst of making dinner for my children when a big bouquet of carnations and other flowers arrived from Merril.
Much joy for a pleasant day,
the card read.
Pleasant
was one of Barbara’s favorite words, so it was obvious to me that the flowers were from her.

My children were so excited by the flowers that I couldn’t throw them away immediately. I just left them on the table and proceeded to make dinner. Harrison had been born on my anniversary, so we were celebrating his fourth birthday that night. I had bought a cake and candles for him, which was a novelty for all of us. In the FLDS, birthdays were rarely celebrated.

Early the next morning, while everyone was still asleep, I took the entire vase of flowers to the dumpster and threw them in. I could hear the glass shattering. It was liberating. The oppression was over. My life was my own, and no one could take my freedom away from me now.

I had another immediate fear to conquer: driving. I had avoided it as much as I could since the accident on Black Ridge. Compounding the problem was that I wasn’t used to driving in a big city. But I had to be able to buy groceries and drive Betty and LuAnne to their counseling sessions. LuAnne was in school but Betty and Arthur were not yet ready. (My other three school-age children were in public schools, but Dan made arrangements for their transportation there and back.)

My freedom didn’t mean much if I couldn’t drive. Still, it terrified me to get into a car again. My heart raced and my mouth went dry. I couldn’t let the girls see how scared I was, so I took a deep breath and turned the key in the ignition. It would be a year until I felt comfortable driving again.

The biggest challenge I faced was financial; this was not a surprise. I had no expectations of getting any money from Merril. He’d even refused to contribute to Harrison’s care before I escaped, since he believed Harrison was my punishment from God.

But I had made one really smart move before I fled. In planning for my escape, I knew I had to do something about money, and the one option I had was getting Social Security benefits for my children. Harrison was getting $100 a month in SSI benefits, but that never covered his monthly costs.

When Merril had retired, he applied for Social Security benefits for two of his youngest children, Harrison and Wendell—Cathleen’s son, the one Barbara beat one night at prayers. This was dishonest because he claimed that the boys’ mothers weren’t able to care for them. But scamming the government for benefits, whether food stamps or welfare, was routine in the FLDS. It was referred to as “bleeding the beast.” Merril was smart enough not to put more than two children on Social Security—he knew he’d be investigated if he claimed he was raising dozens of children by five mothers. The children had to be living with him if he was to collect the money. It was credible that he could be raising two children from separate mothers.

I calculated that if Social Security knew about my other children, Harrison’s benefit would jump to at least $400 a month. So I applied. But when I did, I was turned down because Merril claimed my other seven children were not his and that we’d never been married. I had just almost died giving birth to Bryson, and I was infuriated. But in denying my claim, Social Security gave me a long list of items I could send in to substantiate his parenthood, so I at least knew what I needed to get this turned around.