The Mormon Cover Up at the LDS Church Meetinghouse

Link to the introductory warning and the cast of characters

Setting and Characters

The setting for this chapter is the LDS Mormon Church that I was baptized in. I was confirmed with the Mormon Priesthood in this building. I was married by one the Bishops of this building after Mother refused to come my non-denominational wedding. This building is a cornerstone of my life.

Sometime in my nightmares I am a child again. I am in this building, running from my Mother and Police in the back hallways. In those nightmares this building becomes increasingly large to me. A six year old LDS Mormon boy may say that the ward building is large and spacious.

Here are the primary characters in this chapter of our story. On the left is Ms. Alan*. She was my sixth grade Language Arts and Reading teacher. She would be my teacher for seventh and eighth grade. My siblings Courtney* and Murph* had Ms. Alan as their teacher at some point during their middle school years.

On the right is The Dirty Mormon Cop*. He was a Police Officer in 1990. He would routinely wear his uniform, with gun, to church. This is common in LDS Mormon culture. Most Wards (read as a Parish, district, a group of members) have a cop or three in the congregation. The Dirty Mormon Cop was not a police officer in the Church’s jurisdiction. Our building was miles away from his jurisdiction.

Sidebar: I guess one could say that a lot of churches are like that. There should be 100% separation of church and state for this reason: The connection between religion and law enforcement is what made it so easy for the The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to hide the violent abuse of four children, including the child sex abuse of three of those children.

Most Teachers are Required Reporters of child abuse

Once Ms. Alan reported my Mother, things got really bad at home. I was completely isolated from my siblings and my father. I was not allowed to talk to anyone.

Father testified in 2022 that “he did not know there was a Child Protective Services (CPS) Investigation until he noticed an appointment with a woman with XXXXX County CPS on his Bishop’s calendar”. How crazy is that?

Mother must have refused to talk with CPS. That is Mother’s modus operandi – she stonewalls. This is common for LDS Mormons. Mother walks away from conversations where the only logical answer is the truth. (Note: The Cop is the same. He has blocked me on platforms where I post his face. That Dirty Cop is hiding from the truth.)

Mother told CPS they had to make an appointment with her husband at her church. Why was the LDS Mormon Church allowed to be the setting where I, the primary complainant, was questioned?

If there were home visits, I was never home when the Child Protective Services person would come to the house in Springfield. I can’t say for sure that they came. I did not speak with a Child Protective Services investigator until 2021.

The night came when our family went to the Church for the CPS Investigation. I had no idea what was happening. All I know is that nobody was allowed to talk to me. My life was hell. Not knowing is so much worse than knowing an awful truth.

The Cop was the cornerstone of the Mormon Cover Up

In my little 12 year old mind I thought that I was going to go to another house after this night. I really thought that I was finally going to face the dragons and leave with the princess.

When we got to the Church, Ms. Alan* was there. She stood by my side for the evening. It was dark when we got there. It may have been late November to early January of 1990.

The Dirty Mormon Cop was there, in full uniform with a gun. He seemed to be in charge, the CPS Investigator was standing with him in the Foyer by (1) in the chart below. There was a standard issue red couch there. I never left the area around that couch during the events that unfolded. Again, The Dirty Cop was not a police officer in the Church’s jurisdiction.

Mother, Stefanie and ? walked away towards the rear of the church. They may have gone to the Bishop’s office where I presume my Father was (2). I did not speak with my Father that night.

I watched The Dirty Mormon Cop, the CPS Investigator, Mother, Stefanie and Courtney walk towards the back offices. Ms. Alan and I were left in the foyer together. She did her best to comfort me while we waited at (1).

The Cop and threatens my teacher

At some point, The Dirty Cop and the CPS Investigator came to the area where Ms. Alan and I were sitting on the red couch at (1).

The Dirty Cop put his hands on his weaponized belt and looked me up and down. “He looks like a healthy young boy to me.” With that, he ushered the female CPS Investigator towards the rear of the church. On the diagram of the Church, it is from point (3) to point (4).

Ms. Alan stood up and march after them. “Excuse me” she exclaimed towards the backs of The Dirty Cop and the CPS Investigator.

The Dirty Cop urged the female CPS Investigator to rejoin the others in the rear of the church. She proceeded from point (4) on the red path towards the read of the church.

The Dirty Cop turned around to face my teacher. He put his arm straight out with his hand turned up out as a Police Officer would. His hand was very close to touching Ms. Alan. The Dirty Cop’s other hand on his gun. “Ma’am, do not go past me.” He waited at (4) for Ms. Alan’s reaction. She was stunned. He then turn to follow the CPS Investigator to the rear of the Church.

Ms. Alan turned to me and said “Joseph*, where do you think your parents are?” I gave her the best, fastest directions I could: through the coat closet, turn right, there is a door with a window in it. Through the door, turn left. The courtyard will be on your right. Turn right at the end of the courtyard and go down the rear hallway. My Father’s Bishop’s Office is on the left.

“Stay here Joseph*, I’ll be back.” Ms. Alan followed the yellow arrow from (5) towards the rear of the Church.

I waited on the couch.

Ms. Alan came back, sat down and said “It look like your Mother has this all buttoned up, kid”. I was mentally jarred. I could not believe what I was hearing. Ms. Alan hugged me.

Ms. Alan left. I never spoke with the CPS Investigator, my Father or The Dirty Mormon Cop.

My Mother and Stefanie came out and we drove home together in horrifying silence. I knew that I had 6 years of hell in front of me until I turned 18.

My 12 year old mind could not imagine the scale of warfare my Mother would wage against me for the next 6 years. It turned out to be worse than hell.

In hindsight, it was too easy for the Church and the Police to overpower the Teacher. We need to change that. Who do I vote for to get the Church out of the social welfare systems like Police, Education and Child Protective Services? How many more kids need to die or live with mental illness for the rest of their lives?

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Why did the The Dirty Mormon Cop overpower the 1990 CPS investigation?

I was 12 years old. I don’t know why. If the cop were questioned by the appropriate authorities we could find out why he trapped three CSA victims with a mentally ill woman.

What I do know…

Mother will lie to the authorities

Mother will lie to authorities to advance her status, her income and / or avoid accountability. In the image above, we see evidence that Mother held onto her lies in the face of real authority. Mother fought to be added to the school board ballot with invalid signatures (She’s #11 above).

Mother must have really pushed, because the Election supervisor made a note in the official meeting notes. These notes detail what made Mother’s petition invalid. Mother falsified signatures and held onto her lies. Now it is on the internet forever.

Another example is during the 2022 trial in which the LDS Mormon Church tried to remove my social media accounts and this website from the internet. Mother stated, “I have never been investigated by Child Protective Services“.

This caught the magistrate, the LDS Mormon lawyer and me off guard. No one had asked her a question. She tried to whitewash history by lying on the record. Our county has record that Mother was investigated in 1990 and 1994. Why did Mother volunteer a lie? I think this lie damaged the LDS Mormons’ case against me, their victim.

Mother blackmails people

Mother had to keep me close from age six and beyond. Mother needed me to be close so she knew what I was telling people. I lost more than one friend after their mother threatened to call CPS on my Mother. Information is power, and the truth is too powerful for Mother. She needed others to help hide the 1985 Child Sex Abuse (CSA).

For example, J.R. We saw the December 1988 movie “Twins” in the movie theater together. I miss our friendship. I could walk to his house and we would play together, sometimes with other kids in his neighborhood. My mother and his mother had a disagreement and then I was not allowed to play with J.R. anymore. I could have leaned on a friend like him after the CPS Investigation was blown up by the LDS Mormon Church.

Because Mother isolated me and kept me close, I knew how she operated. Mother would blackmail people. She did it to more than one person. Here is one example.

The email was damning to Mother’s social credit. It says that my dead sister did not trust her own Mother. This was great evidence for my case. My Mother and Father attempted to discredit the email by stating it was from “an acquaintance”. Lie. Shortly after the court case I received this line in an email from Courtney’s ex-boyfriend:

One point is I want to ensure my family remains silent to this situation.

Courtney’s first love that knows things

I believe that Mother is holding a “statutory rape” charge over the boyfriend’s head. Courtney was underage when they were sexually active, and he was over 18. He won’t talk to me any more. One more person that Mother chased away from me. Mother did not want me to tell people the truth. She is capable of blackmail. Even from events that occurred three decades ago.

I believe that she blackmailed The Dirty Cop* into railroading the CPS investigation.

The Dirty Mormon Cop was convicted of crimes in the same county as the LDS meetinghouse

He ran for local office, like my Mother did.

Shortly after the election, The Dirty Cop* was brought forward on charges for “breach of the duty”. I believe that The Dirty Cop is working to have these records expunged from the internet. There is a case file available at the time of the writing. I have downloaded a copy.

In January of 2021, I spoke with The Dirty Cop’s Police Chief from those days. The Police Chief stated “If there was trouble at the Mormon Church on (identifying info redacted) you can bet that The Dirty Cop* would be there to handle it”. ^smh

Did Mother blackmail the cop?

Mother had a reputation at Church for being a habitually nosy Bishop’s wife. She was known to have a key to the Bishop’s office. When a very dirty secret about one family got out in the Ward sewing circle, my Mother had to return her key to my Father. It was very public in our LDS Mormon ward.

LDS Mormon Bishops like my Father are often called to testify to the character of their members. If Father was called to testify to the cop’s character, Mother would have known.

Did Mother blackmail The Dirty Cop into the dirty work?

• The Dirty Cop* is the son of the Stake Patriarch. The same Stake Patriarch that gave me my life-defining Patriarchal Blessing. The same Stake Patriarch that called my father to the Stake Presidency. How soon after the CPS investigation was Father called to be the 1st Counselor?
• The Dirty Cop* lists his employer as the LDS Mormon Church at the time of the writing (2021). He runs a Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints youth camp.

Again, the appropriate authorities could question these adults and get to the bottom of this rather quickly.

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Institutionalized at 12-years old

Mother hated the CPS follow-up visits to our Mormon house

The timelines gets a bit fuzzy for me here. Understandably so, I was an untreated Child Sex Abuse (CSA) victim. My Mother tried to beat the memories of the CSA out of my head. Time moved very slow for me during these years.

To 12 year old me, the time between the LDS Mormon Cover Up at the Meetinghouse and the night in the psychiatric ward seemed like years. In reality, it was probably just few days. There are many adults that could clear up the timeline here. Mother and Father could tell the truth today. My sister Stefanie* could tell the truth today.

Once Mother knew that Child Protective Services was going to be checking-in for follow-up visits, she could not beat us as much. Mother stepped up her psychological abuse. To this day, I believe that I am a pile of s#it and that I have tricked my own children into loving me. My Mother made me feel worthless. Mother made me feel guilty for telling Ms. Alan* about the violent abuse.

Courtney gives me great advice

After the cover up, Mother would still hit me. She would catch herself mid-beating and say “you are lucky that Ms. Alan* called CPS or I would slap you silly!” After one of these events, I was in my bedroom, crying from a beating that Mother gave me. I was sobbing and shaking, face down on my bed. Courtney* appeared in the winter afternoon darkness. She stood near my bed.

“Joseph*, you are bigger than her now. The next time she hits you, grab her arm and tell her to stop. That’s what I did. She doesn’t hit me anymore.” Courtney left the room.

The next time Mother hit me I did what Courtney said to do. I grabbed Mother’s wrist before her hand could hit my head. I was scared for my life, but I was tired of being hit.

“No, you cannot hit me anymore”. I held her wrist.

Mother tried to pull her wrist away and yelled “You are my child, I own you. I can hit you whenever I want.”

I still resisted and would not let her hit me. Mother knew how to turn this event into a “win for her”. She had been conditioning me since I was sexually abused at six. Mother started a fight with me that she would not back down on. I cannot remember what she took away from me, probably my stereo. I was only 12 years old. My CSA had just been hidden by an LDS Mormon Police Officer. I was traumatized again without help to recover from the trauma of CSA and my Mother’s cover up.

Mother was screaming and I was screaming back. Mother called 911.

Sidebar: This would be the first of many police visits to our home and settings around our house. Mother’s Brigham Young University (BYU) Social Work degree kicked in. She would call 911 on me at least 5 times between 12 and 16. Each time resulted in me being taken away for “unruly and incorrigible”.

Each time I was returned in record time because I did not fit into the juvenile halls and jails I was taken to. Mother hated that. As soon as I was away from her and her psychological abuse I was a normal, funny young boy. Mother hated that.

The cops take me to an emergency psychiatry ward*

Back to that night. We were screaming at each other. Mother had to keep me in “fight or flight mode” until the police arrived. She needed me to look crazy so she kept abusing me with her words. Mother uses her mouth like a fist.

The police arrived, I was handcuffed and taken to the psychiatric lock down ward in the downtown university medial center. Like the place where human beings with mental problems go for lock down and treatment because they are harming themselves or others. I believe that I was sedated via intravenous fluids.

In the middle of the night, I was awakened by a staff member. There was screaming and banging from the common area outside the room. I was escorted out to the lobby, beyond the lock down area. Beyond the medical area. I was just sitting in the lobby. Someone gave me a snack and a blanket. They called my parents who did not come get me right away.

Mother was so upset that they called so soon. She was even more upset when the staff told them that I did not cause any commotion and they needed the space for others. Mother hated how likable I was. Even as a 12 year old untreated CSA victim in the psych ward downtown, they liked me and saw that I was not a psychiatric emergency. I needed some other kind of help that they did not offer.

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Christmas Public Enemy and the Probation Officer

One of my parents picked me up from the psychiatry lock down ward. It was morning when they picked me up. I cannot remember who it was, Mother or Father.

Recall that Mother had me arrested for “unruly and incorrigible” and taken to the downtown psyche ward. That is kind of a big deal. I was taken before a judge in juvenile court. A judge reviewed the case and assigned me to 6 months probation. I had a probation officer. I was a little criminal. My family makes jokes about things they are not comfortable with. They bought me a Public Enemy hat.

That Christmas I was given a “Public Enemy” hat by either Stefanie* or Courtney*. Mother really enjoyed when the girls parroted her constant comments about my “law enforcement situation”. Mother had always told people that I was a liar.

Since I was six year old she worked to erode my memories and publicly shame me as a liar. Now that I was an “official juvenile delinquent”, she had evidence to back up that I was a liar. The lock down psyche ward could not have turned out better for Mother. I was officially a Public Enemy.

My parents are both racist against people of color. The Public Enemy hat was meant to slight and insult me. I enjoy rap, including Public Enemy. I wore that hat with pride I did not fully understand. My parents have the “fear of a Black planet” in them. My mother initially refused to attend my wedding. Was it because I had an African American man as a groomsman?

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The Fallout after the 1990 CPS Investigation

Our house in shambles. Here are some core memories of abuse intensification.

Christmas died again

Christmas was really over for me now. There was at least one Christmas where my parents and Santa Claus both did not bring me presents. One of my gifts that year was a coat that I needed. Mother told me about it after she had returned it. Think about that: a raped little boy watched his 3-5 siblings open many gifts while he had little. I had a gift from my Grandma. Courtney* gave me something most years, like the ‘Whatever’s Cool With Me’ cassette tape.

Father was an engineer. When he was involved in family functions there was order. It was not always pleasant, but order was necessary. The order allowed father to control the chaos as much as one could without exposing and addressing the underlying issues. The order of operations also meant that each full-family interaction had a necessary defined ending. The sooner the better for Father. He was not a part of our family. Father was a silent bystander with authority to cover abuse.

When Mother was in charge, interactions did not end until she was tired of yelling at her target. Note, she is likely stricken with borderline personality disorder or another treatable psychiatric condition. Mother would yell and hit until she was tired. Then she would go off to another room and maybe feel guilt because we were crying so loudly. Mother would be angry at the guilt so she would blame the target. Mother would then return to the target for the “…and another thing” and the yelling and hitting would start again. The cycle would repeat until Mother or the target left the house.

Our family opened gifts in rounds. In 1991 we had 7 people opening gifts, the order was youngest to oldest. In most families that would take a while. Our Christmases were like the Hunger Games. Whoever would run out of gifts to open first would be ridiculed by Mother and my favored siblings. Each subsequent person that ran out would also have insults thrown at them like “maybe Santa remembered you telling Ms. Alan* that we abused you”.

I always ran out first. Thinking back, that is how Mother communicated her current rank of the children. The child with the most gifts was her favorite, at least for that year. The order was usually:

1. Karen*, the Golden Child. Senior Flying Monkey.
2. Stefanie*, former Golden Child. Reluctant Flying Monkey.
3. Murph*, favorite boy child. Obedient Flying Monkey.
4. Ezra*, last child. Secondary scapegoat.
5. Courtney*, CSA co-victim. Extorted gifts from Mother.
6. Joseph*, Scapegoat.

If you take out #1 and #4, that was the order for the first four kids. Karen and Ezra were born 10 and 12 years after Murph, the youngest of the first four.

Bullied at school

I was bullied at school for being an LDS Mormon. To all the Utah Mormons, you have no idea what it is like to be one of a few Mormons in a typical American school. When my bullies found out I was Mormon, the bullying escalated from insults to punches.

One insult was when bully Brett* brought RLDS pencils to school. I tried to explain that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints was not the same as Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, now known as Community of Christ. Obviously, trying to tell a bully they are wrong was not a good strategy.

The punching and pushing got so bad that I went to the assistant principal. He was worthless and did nothing to help. I went to the principal. He also did nothing to help. I finally asked my mother to go to school to report the abuse. “Why don’t you tell Ms. Alan”.

My mother did not help me.

I told Courtney* about the punching. She got two “hoods” to tell the bullies to leave me alone. A “hood” at our school was a person that listened to hard rock, rap & metal. Thank you to Jerry* and Dave* for saving my butt in middle school.

Continue reading: Under the Table and Escorting Courtney

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