Authors: Elissa Wall
Stolen Innocence (17 page)
Mom was standing nearby, and I instantly saw a look of astonishment come over her face. Even though I was somewhat alarmed by the comment, Uncle Fred was my priesthood head, and knowing that he was pleased with me felt good. His compliments were rewarding, even if they came with these cryptic remarks about marriage. Besides, he couldn’t honestly want me to get married “soon.” I was only fourteen.
Mom, however, remained worried. Her trepidation only increased when Uncle Fred invited me to join him and three of my older stepsisters on a trip to Phoenix, where he purchased provisions to replenish our six-month food supply and for the community storehouse, which was a metal shed where some FLDS members got food at no charge. Fred’s pantry was the biggest I’d ever seen, and the walk-in refrigerator was bigger than one you’d find in a sizable restaurant. Because he frequently made these trips to Phoenix, Fred had a home there. It was considered a great honor to be one of the family members invited to go with him. Since I had come to Fred’s house, I had watched a number of girls and boys have the chance to go, but never before had he selected me. Though I tried to shrug it off at the time, the reality was that not being chosen had left me feeling disappointed and a bit jealous—just one more thing that demonstrated I was on the outside of the family.
I should have known that something was up when he extended the invitation to me, but I was blinded by my excitement at being included. All I could think about was that for the first time since I had left Salt Lake, my “father” was beginning to approve of me. I thought maybe I was starting to belong somewhere in the Jessop house, and perhaps it would only be a matter of time before the other girls started to accept me as well.
The trip was a fun break from our normal routine. We got to eat in restaurants, and I enjoyed meeting some of the girls who had accompanied the other church elders on the trip. In the euphoria of the moment, I didn’t think much about the fact that the last two daughters who’d accompanied Fred to Phoenix had been married soon after their return. When it did occur to me, I dismissed it right away, knowing that at least eight of Uncle Fred’s daughters were older than I was. Surely they would be placed in marriages long before me.
We’d been back home just a few weeks when Uncle Fred made an announcement during our weekly prayer service in his living room. Everyone was assembled when he informed us that the prophet had found a “place” for three of his “girls” at the side of priesthood elders. We all knew what that meant; the three unnamed girls were going to be married. When the prophet arranged a marriage for a girl, it was often referred to as a “place.” For the prophet to tell your father he has a “place” for you is supposed to be one of the greatest moments in the life of an FLDS girl. We all looked around excitedly wondering who they would be. Some of the girls tried to pry it out of Uncle Fred, but he maintained his big secretive grin and said nothing.
Several days passed and everyone was still eagerly awaiting word of who the lucky three were and when the marriages would take place. One night, as we were all gathered for evening prayer, the chosen girls were subtly revealed. After prayer, it was customary for the boys to shake Fred’s hand and the girls to receive a light hug from him. I joined the line behind my mother to hug Uncle Fred, and as I went to put my arms around him, he also gathered my mother in the embrace. Bending down, he smiled and said to me in a soft voice, “You are one of the three girls.”
My eyes instantly widened and my jaw dropped. It took me a second to fully process what he had said. I wondered if I had heard him correctly.
“You probably have me mixed up with someone else,” I stammered. “You know, I’m only fourteen, right?”
He assured me that yes, indeed, it was me, and I needed to prepare myself. A sick, heavy feeling crawled into my stomach as he again pulled my mother and me in for a celebratory hug. A look of glee stretched across Fred’s wrinkled face; he was clearly pleased to deliver the news. It was supposed to be joyous. It was supposed to be celebratory. But I felt like my heart had stopped, and my feelings of revulsion started to grow. I knew that many girls still in their teens were married. I’d even heard of girls who had been married as young as fifteen. There were stories from Uncle Roy’s time as prophet when really young girls like myself and even younger had been married.
But I hadn’t heard of anyone getting married at fourteen for some time. I knew that marriages of girls under the age of eighteen had been performed a lot more carefully as of late. Not that long ago, Uncle Rulon had actually said we would stop the practice after laws were passed forbidding the marriage of girls under eighteen. In church one day he said that we would “follow the law of the land” as it pertained to child brides. However, Uncle Warren later said that the Lord couldn’t stop his work on earth just because the laws of the land had changed. Those laws had been put in place to hinder the priesthood’s work, therefore they were not to be followed. It was one of the increasingly frequent moments when Warren assumed power and authority publicly. Warren was taking over, and his will seemed to prevail over his father’s. The FLDS people simply accepted the result. And so the marriages of underaged girls continued but were performed cautiously and in secret, since the prophet who presided and those officiating ran the risk of prosecution by the government.
Shocked and in a total daze, I walked away with my mother and tried to convince myself it couldn’t be true, but something inside me knew better.
Take this revelation, or any other revelation that the Lord has given, and deny it in your feelings and I promise that you will be damned.
—
BRIGHAM YOUNG
I
had been in the FLDS Church from the moment I was born. It was all I knew and the only way I could imagine living. From my teachings, I knew that the prophet’s job was to dictate what was best for us and that the words he spoke came straight from God. I believed that my impending marriage was the will of God and therefore nothing could be done to stop it. But still, I had to try.
I also knew that I was different from other girls in my community. I wanted an education, and maybe even to become a nurse or teacher someday. During my year in public school, I’d come to realize things were possible that I’d never dreamed before. Sure, I knew that I wanted to be a mother of good priesthood children, but not at fourteen. I wanted children
and
a future, and I dared to think that both were possible.
It took a little while for me to absorb what Uncle Fred had said. As I turned it over in my head, I couldn’t digest the idea that the prophet wanted me to marry, and it didn’t feel right. Still thinking that perhaps Uncle Fred had confused me with one of the older girls in the house, I decided to speak with him. I climbed the stairs to Uncle Fred’s office on the second floor and waited in the hallway for him to notice me. When he saw me standing in the doorway, a kind smile widened across his face and he invited me in to talk. I swallowed my fear and took a seat, eager to tell him how I really felt about the pronouncement. The office appeared much like Uncle Warren’s office at Alta Academy, with a big desk, a couch, and a few chairs for those who came to seek counsel. As a respected member of our community, Fred held a lot of clout. He had been appointed the bishop of Short Creek by Leroy Johnson long before Uncle Rulon took over as the prophet, giving him the position of second counselor to the prophet and placing him third in the leadership hierarchy, right behind Warren, who was first counselor.
Taking a seat in one of the brown leather chairs, I held my tongue until I was invited to speak, and when Uncle Fred signaled me to share what was on my mind, the words almost spilled out of my mouth.
“I want to make sure you understand that I’m fourteen,” I said, mustering a soft, respectful voice despite my anxiety. “I’m worried that you have me mixed up with someone else.” Uncle Fred was well into his seventies, and sometimes he’d forget things, even people’s names.
“No, you are going to be married,” he replied with certainty.
Panic swelled inside of me, and I searched my mind for what to say next. “I don’t know if this is right for me,” I told him after a long pause. “I don’t feel ready. I don’t feel like that is what I should be doing because I’m really young. And I think there are so many other girls in the house who would be more ready for this calling.”
Not deterred, Uncle Fred instructed me to “go and pray about it.”
I was at a loss for words, and I realized that he intended for me to go forward and marry. I asked if he could at least share the identity of my future husband. Perhaps if I knew who God had chosen for me, it would set my mind at ease.
“That will be revealed to you at the right time,” he replied.
I felt physically ill as I stood to leave. The conversation was over, and there appeared to be nothing more I could say.
In the days ahead, I was flooded with congratulatory words from my family and many stepsisters, who, much to my surprise, knew that I was among the three girls chosen for marriage. I struggled to hide my true feelings as they told me how lucky I was, and at moments it felt nice to have so much attention. Getting married is the highest honor for a girl in the FLDS Church. It was what women lived for—our dream and our mission. Even though I was only fourteen, it was hard not to get caught up in all the excitement. Soon, though, those feelings would pass, and the anxiety returned.
I discovered I wasn’t the only young girl who had been assigned a husband. The prophet had also chosen my stepsister Lily, who was only a few months older than I was. She would be celebrating her fifteenth birthday before me. The third girl chosen was Nancy. She was a few years older than Lily and me and seemed excited at the prospect of achieving what she’d been preparing for her whole life.
As we looked at our similar situations, Lily and I formed a bond in our attempt to come to terms with our futures. Like me, Lily had been through a difficult time. A few months earlier, she’d begun a secret friendship with an older FLDS boy who had recently moved to Hildale from Salt Lake City. Since the prophet is the only person who can authorize romantic relationships, this friendship went against church teachings. Inevitably, Uncle Fred found out what was going on and forbade her from seeing the boy again. Lily was beside herself with sadness, and she tried to take her own life using Tylenol and ibuprofen.
Her attempt failed, but her marriage announcement seemed to be in reaction to her improper friendship, as though the powers above her thought that marriage would force her back into the correct FLDS mindset. At moments, it even appeared to be working, as Lily seemed to share Nancy’s excitement. But my resistance never wavered, and despite everyone’s words, I remained unconvinced that this was my time.
In the days after Uncle Fred’s announcement, I wrote down my thoughts about what was happening in a journal.
Sunday, April 15, 2001
It sure has been an amazing weekend. Many things have happened to make things feel a little upside down. Yesterday was quite a nerve-shaking day. It was about…
My mother came into the room, and I could feel her standing over me as I began to put my worries and questions on the paper.
“Lesie, you should be careful what you write,” she cautioned, interrupting my stream of consciousness. “Your words are not private.”
Looking up at her, I expressed surprise. “What do you mean? Who would be looking at my personal journal?”
“Well, what you write about this important time will be your legacy for your children, and it should be proud things. So you don’t want to regret it later.”
Mom’s words overwhelmed me. I was being told that I shouldn’t express how I was really feeling about what was happening. I was horrified that my private writings might not actually be private, and that these personal reflections would be seen as disobedient and unfaithful. This new pressure to write only what I should have been feeling engulfed me. I flipped the page of my butterfly-covered spiral notebook and started over.
Sunday, April 15, 2001
Today was the most beautiful day. It was as though the Lord sent it just for me. The morning was so peaceful that it gathered peace to my soul. This weekend has been quite a time. Many things have happened to make my world go upside down. There [are] many things that are very weighty on my mind. If it wasn’t for the Lord, I would be feeling quite overwhelmed. Yesterday was quite an experience. It was about ten o’clock when Mother Amy called up to the room and told me that Father wanted to see me. As I was getting ready to go see him, I was trying my hardest to think what it might be about. A dozen things or happenings went through my head. I walked in his office when he was talking to someone else, which gave me a few minutes while I stood there by his side. Soon he saw me and turned and began talking. He stated to me that he had talked to Lily and me on the subject of getting married. When he had said anything before he had talked about things happening some time in May. Well he told me that the prophet was thinking to do it sometime next week. It caught me by such surprise that I just stood there. I will never forget the emotions that went through my head. For a long time now, I have been pleading with the Lord to please prepare a place for me by a man who will love and teach me. Most of all I pray that the Lord will give me a testimony that I will be able to know with all my heart that where I am placed is where I am supposed to be.
In the days that followed, I consulted with Uncle Fred several times. While I was following Mom’s advice of keeping obedient even in my writings, in reality I was terrified about my future. After a couple of visits with Uncle Fred, I told him I wanted him to know that I wasn’t trying to resist the will of the prophet; I just needed more time. I would be more ready if I could just have two more years.
