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A TEENAGER'S TEARS – When Parents Convert To Polygamy
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Chapter One & Chapter
Two Excerpts
The houses, trees, alfalfa fields and telephone posts slipped past in a blur
as the maroon Ford Explorer cruised southward on the rural Utah road. Gene spoke
reassuringly as he drove, hoping to put Emma at ease. She slouched in the
passenger seat next to her father and stared out the window, dreading the
meeting she was about to attend, fighting an overwhelming depression.
Emma was in a state of shock. One day she was making plans
with her girl friends, looking forward to the local church dance, and the next
day she was told she was now a polygamist girl.
She fought defiance and disbelief, wanting to shout at her
dad, "I DON’T WANT TO BE A POLYGAMIST!"
But she didn’t cry out. As a well brought up Mormon child,
taught that obedience was the first law of heaven, she sat next to her father,
listening as he explained one more time how wonderful and special it was to be a
polygamist child. "You’ll meet lots of new friends," he said.
"The girls your age are very friendly, modest and chaste. They’re the
most virtuous girls in the world."
Emma had no idea her parents had been studying plural
marriage until one Sunday morning a week ago when they summoned their children
to the family room for a meeting. Seventeen-year-old Emma was dressed for Sunday
School, eager to see her friends at church. Keith, twelve, plopped down in the
rocker, tossing his basketball in the air, his red tie hanging crooked, his hair
wet and plastered flat on his head. Emma’s mother sat on the sofa next to her
husband.
Emma immediately felt the tension. Someone must have died.
Respectfully sobering to the occasion, Emma quietly sat nearby, spread her dress
appropriately over her knees, and waited for the news. She had spent the last
hour in the bathroom applying just the right amount of eye shadow and mascara to
enrich her naturally dark eyes. A beautiful girl, she had inherited her mother’s
dimples and auburn hair.
Gene, dressed in his grey suit, white shirt and dark tie,
took a deep breath and glanced at Connie, his wife. Her blank gaze gave him no
encouragement. He turned to the children, "This is the last Sunday we’ll
be going to church in this ward."
"What!" Emma stammered.
"But, Dad, all my friends are here!" Keith
exploded.
"We’ll be moving soon and going to a new church,"
their father explained.
Emma looked at her mother’s pale face and knew there was
more.
"You’ll make new friends, Keith," Gene said,
"lots of new friends who think and live like we do."
"My friends already think like I do," Keith
retaliated.
Emma interrupted. "Dad, I don’t understand. Why are we
moving?"
He glanced at his wife. Still no encouragement. He was on his
own.
Taking a deep breath he said, "You’re going to have to
trust me on this, kids. For the last five months your mother and I have been
studying the fullness of the gospel and we’ve decided to make a major change
in all our lives." The children stared at him with disbelief.
"Emma, listen to me," her father said in a tone of loving, but
insistent, authority. "Do you believe that Joseph Smith was a
prophet?"
"Yes," she answered hesitantly. For as long as Emma
could remember, in church and at home, she had been told Joseph Smith was a
prophet.
"Did you know that Joseph Smith had more than one
wife?" he asked.
She looked at him, bewilderment in her brown eyes.
"No!" Of course she had heard, but it was like a joke, something that
had occurred in another time period.
Emma looked at her mother’s ashen face. She was avoiding
Emma’s gaze.
The blood drained out of Emma’s face. Oh God. Her
mind went blank and dizziness crept over her.
"Daddy," she whispered, "what are you trying
to say?" But deep inside Emma already knew. She could see it written all
over her mother’s face, eyes sunk deep, colorless tight lips. Her father’s
words became distant as she studied his face filled with anticipation,
excitement, adventure.
"Emma, are you listening? Plural marriage is the only
way to a celestial exaltation. The Mormon Church is wrong for abandoning it and
they lost the priesthood keys when they accepted the Black race into the
priesthood. A man named Partridge now holds all the keys of authority and he is
the only man on earth that can solemnize marriage. Do you realize that all other
marriages are adulterous. And… from now on, we’ll pay our ten percent
tithing to Partridge."
Emma could not believe what she was hearing. Keith sat still
and silent.
"You will soon have two mothers and we will be moving to
a community owned by the priesthood of God—where everyone believes and lives
this law."
Stunned, Emma stared at the mother she adored—long auburn hear swept back,
high cheek bones, flawless skin, a vivacious women in her early forties with the
figure and mannerisms of a women in her twenties. She’s fun, the prettiest
mother in the whole neighborhood, she’s faithful, an excellent housekeeper,
the best cook; why, she’s the most perfect mother in the whole world. And
Dad is going to replace her?
She heard her father say, "We studied and prayed and
this is what God wants us to do."
"Studied and prayed," Emma whispered under her
breath. Fighting tears, she looked at her mother. "Mom, is this what YOU
want?"
Forcing a smile, Connie desperately wanted to reassure her
children, to convey to them that it would be all right, that all would be well.
"Yes…yes, children," she said quietly.
But Emma knew. Her mother’s beautiful and loving heart was
shattered. She knew that her mother adored her husband, and that while her own
opinions about life often differed from his, she had taken a temple covenant to
be faithful to him and obedient to his final decisions as the priesthood holder
in the family. That is what the Church taught and that is what her mother did.
And what will happen to me? Fighting nausea, her
own life flashed before her eyes—my friends, my plans for the future, my
very life. A stark realization flooded her soul. My life is over. And
Mother? Her life is over, no matter what Dad says.
Petrified, she dare not say anything. Whatever dad said was
how it would be. There would be no argument. His word was final. That’s how
she had been brought up.
Emotion surged within her like a raging flood. No longer able to restrain
herself, Emma ran to her mother and fell sobbing into her lap.
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Chapter Two Excerpts
Emma’s father was a good man, born and raised in the Church. He was the
ideal Latter-day Saint with many social redeeming attributes. After serving a
successful two-year foreign mission, he came home and quickly married. Before
long he held an executive position in a major Utah corporation and provided his
wife and children all the necessities and luxuries of an upper middle class
family.
Connie had been his prize. After his lengthy mission ended,
he searched in earnest for the right wife, one who was faithful to the
Church and all of its teachings, and who would be dedicated to the same goals as
he. One who would honor him in his final decisions for the family. But he also
wanted a beautiful girl, one with life and spunk. And he found her. In fact she
was so spunky, he wondered if she could really settle into a marriage where she
would honor him as the final law. After all, they frequently argued and he liked
the zest of negotiating their differences. But after marriage, she gave him the
respect he was looking for. He felt greatly blessed. That Connie could have no
more children following an illness and surgery was a heartache to both of them.
Like many native Utahns, Gene was the second generation of a
polygamist. His great grandfather had been a stake president with three wives.
In those pioneer days, a stake president was required to have three wives. Gene’s
great-grandmother had been the third wife.
Great-grandfather was a patriarch in the true sense and a
zealot defender of the faith and totally obedient to his priesthood superiors. Gene admired the old
pioneer for his tenacity, and the more he learned about the old patriarch, the
more proud he became of his pioneer heritage. Gene had inherited many of the
noble and stubborn characteristics of his great-grandfather, who was more
concerned with his standing in the Church than his popularity among men.
One Sunday, a group of men in Gene’s ward discussed the
reasons and role of polygamy during the early days of the Church. Their views
were many, the explanations speculative. The popular consensus was that polygamy
was adopted because there were more women than men. It wasn’t until Gene
researched the Church’s Journal of Discourses that he discovered the
official justification for a plurality of wives.
He learned that polygyny, one man with two or more wives, was
the order of marriage encouraged and practiced by the early Mormons, not
polygamy, which means that either sex can have more than one mate. He studied
the discourses of Brigham Young1 who declared that polygyny was the
only conduit to a celestial heavenly exaltation where one could live in God’s
presence, and it was a commandment to all Latter-day Saints. Gene learned that
the law of celestial marriage had never been repudiated and was still
contained in the Mormon law book, Section 132 of the Doctrine and Covenants.
In fact, all faithful Mormons accepted that when they return to heaven, they
will live plural marriage.
Nearly all the early Mormon Church leaders, Parley P. Pratt,
Heber C. Kimball, John Taylor, and a host of others preached that polygyny was a
commandment that would never be taken from the earth. Brigham Young also taught
that polygyny was introduced to raise up a righteous seed and to prepare men to
become kings and priests and rulers of men. And then Gene learned that
contemporary fundamentalists like Joseph Musser, who secretly practiced polygyny
after the Manifesto, taught that the God of this world was Adam and that a man
with the proper priesthood could be the Adam of many worlds, one for each wife.
The more wives, the greater his kingdom. The more wives, the greater the man.
And then Gene read that Joseph Smith2 had thirty-three wives, ages 14
to 53, and that Joseph guaranteed the salvation of each wife.3 And
finally, Gene learned that contemporary Mormon fundamentalists believed that in
1886, when Prophet John Taylor was in hiding and received the revelation that
polygamy should be abandoned, that he set apart a group of men to secretly
perpetuate plural marriage until the Second Coming of the Savior. The
fundamentalists produced all kinds of literature they said supported their
position.
One thing lead to another. When Gene attempted to discuss the
doctrine of plural marriage with his bishop and stake president, he was not
asked, but told to leave it alone. That only made him more
curious. Eventually he converted to Mormon fundamentalism. And Gene thought he
had converted Connie, his wife of eighteen years.
Emma and her father were alone in the car traveling to her first Church
meeting with polygamists. Her head was still swirling as her father continued to
reassure her. It was Priesthood and Girls Class night. While the men and boys
attended their meetings, the teenage unmarried girls met in the basement where
they were taught not only the fundamentalist version of the Mormon
gospel, but also the virtues of womanhood. Plural wives from the group
aristocracy tutored the girls.
After the opening exercises, the deacons, teachers and
priests, all boyhood priesthood positions, would file out to their respective
classes where adults instructed them in Mormon fundamentalism. The adults stayed
in the auditorium where it was inculcated by a member of the high priest quorum
that they, the ruling council, did indeed have the priesthood authority they
claimed. Twelve-year-old Keith, a deacon, should have been with his father. But
Keith had refused to go.
The meeting place was a two-level square structure made of
concrete walls and resembled a warehouse, not a chapel. A baptismal font,
kitchen, library, large dining area and classroom were located on the lower
level. A stage, auditorium, and eight small classrooms along the western wall
comprised the upper level. The auditorium doubled as a basketball court once a
week and dance floor once a month.
It was mid April, the evening air cool. The parking lot was half filled with
automobiles. Men and boys in long-sleeved shirts and jeans were climbing the
stairs to the upper level entrance as teenage girls angled through the parked
cars to the lower level entrance.
"I have arranged for a young lady named Mary to show you
around," said Gene. "Mary comes from one of the original polygamist
families. Her father is on the ruling council."
Emma’s eyes darted from person to person as they walked
through the parking lot. They all look normal. A cluster of talkative
girls had gathered outside the east entrance. The girls were attired in either
long dresses or skirts and blouses.
Emma had expected the girls to look like the Colorado City
polygamist women with conspicuously wavy hairdos. She was glad to be wrong.
Inside, girls were milling around, chatting in groups of
three and four. No one seemed to notice Emma, which suited her just fine. A
plain looking girl broke away from two other girls and approached with her hand
extended.
"This is Mary," her dad said. "She’ll show
you around. I’ll meet you here after priesthood." And then he disappeared
up the stairs. Emma felt abandoned in a strange world.
Mary wore no makeup. Her long dusty blonde hair was combed
back and fixed in a pony tail. The blue cotton dress hanging loosely from her
shoulders was obviously hand sewn. She looked the same age as Emma, but was
ordinary in every respect. Emma thought that with a little makeup and proper
clothes she would be a pretty girl.
"Come on," said Mary happily, "I’ll introduce you to a
couple of my friends." Emma nodded with no other choice but to make the
most of an awkward situation.
Emma was led to two girls standing off by themselves. One was
of the same bland mold as Mary except with an aura of authority. She was the
taller of the two and appeared to be lecturing the other girl, a full bosomed
brunette with short hair. Gesturing towards the brunette, Mary said, "Gwen,
this is Emma. Her parents are new to the group."
Gwen’s warm smile exposed white evenly spaced teeth. Her
brown eyes sparkled. She was slightly overweight but on her it looked good. Like
Emma, she was wearing a skirt and blouse open at the throat, although the blouse
was modest and it complimented her large, well-formed bosoms.
"Welcome to the inner sanctum," Gwen said
sarcastically. "I know just what you are going through. My folks joined the
group two years ago." Emma immediately liked Gwen.
Turning towards the other girl, Mary said, "This is
Claudia."
Claudia’s blue eyes narrowed as she looked Emma up and
down. "Hummmm," she muttered and then without saying hello, welcome,
or go to hell, "well, I got to go," turned and left.
Emma watched her swagger away.
Gwen chuckled. "Don’t mind her, she’s a blue
blood and blue-blooded kids are always cool to new converts."
"Why … what do you mean?" asked Emma.
"You’ll find that kids in the group are more cliquish
than other kids," said Gwen. "Claudia comes from an elite family, one
of the aristocrats. The blue bloods think we should all bow down to them because
of who they are." Gwen chuckled contemptuously. "They think they are
the only ones who have ever sacrificed for their religion. My dad lost his job
when he took another wife and joined the group. Now he works at a job he hates
and it only pays half the money he used to make. All our relatives have disowned
us. But the blue bloods don’t think that’s sacrificing. To put it
bluntly," Gwen said with a mischievous twinkle, "they think they are
better than the rest of us."
Emma looked at Mary. "You’re not snooty and my dad
said you come from one of the original families."
Gwen answered for Mary. "That’s because there is a
pecking order even among the elite families. Mary’s mother is a second-class
wife." Gwen quickly turned to Mary. "You know what I mean." Mary
nodded agreement. "Mary’s mother isn’t really a second-class wife. Mary
knows I didn’t mean any disrespect. Her mother’s the best mother in their
family and one of the best women in the whole group. She’s just not the
favorite wife, so her children are treated the same way, as inferior
children."
"I guess that means I’m a second-class polygamist kid," said
Emma.
"That’s right," answered Gwen. "Especially
if you use eye shadow and lipstick."
"But you’ve got makeup on," noticed Emma.
"You’re darn right, and I intend to keep using
makeup," said Gwen saucily. "When you walked up, self-righteous
Claudia was chewing me out because I wear makeup and open my blouse at the neck.
She’s not fooling me. She’s just jealous because the boys look at me and not
her."
"It’s not just the boys that look at you,"
interjected Mary. "You need to be careful."
Gwen laughed. Looking at Emma, she said, "I’m keeping
score. So far I’ve had five married men tell me they received a revelation
that God wants me to be their plural wife."
Seeing Emma’s alarm, Gwen giggled and went on, "It
happens all the time. At first it kind of scared me but now we all laugh about
it. These guys think we’re dumb and can’t see through their phony
revelations." She leaned closer to Emma and whispered, "We call it
penis revelation."
Emma was stunned.
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