Sunday, June 3, 2012

The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley Exposed - A Curious Child

Begin reading the series here.  Or, go back to Severe Homeschooling.


Fast forward several years to age 9 and 10.  At this age, I was undergoing Copley-forced separation from my younger siblings; my older siblings were “serving God” at Bill Gothard’s Indianapolis Training Center, (ITC).  By this time, I had three younger siblings and I shared my room with one of them. I taught her to shoplift and eventually my parents found out and decided I wasn’t fit company for them.  Ken Copley jerked me out of bed one night and told me I was never to be alone with my younger siblings and unless my parents were in the room, I was to always leave.

“Sex”, and anything about my sexuality were “bad” words never to be uttered.  No one bothered to teach me anything about myself; I guess they figured if they never said anything, I would never DO anything or wonder about anything. WRONG!  Curiosity got the better of me and before my parents separated me from the younger ones, my younger sibling and I had started experimenting and looking at each other’s bodies and private areas.  I’ve since been informed by multiple friends and therapists that what my sibling and I engaged in was “normal childhood behavior.”  In my parents’ eyes, I was now a child molester.

Although I was already separated by the time my parents discovered this and the activity had already stopped, my dad gave me fifty swats with the wooden spoon and promised me 100 swats if experimenting ever occurred again.

Eventually, the ban was lifted and I was allowed to play with siblings again.  This only came about AFTER I made a second confession of “faith.”  Apparently, accepting Jesus as Savior was the missing link and now that I was “saved” I was fit for fellowship. 

My dad accepted a position as Staff Counselor with the Indianapolis Training Center and we moved in March of 1994.  The first few months were good, but I messed up again.  I was 11 and still no one had talked to me about puberty and sex.  The only thing I knew from my mother was “bleeding from ‘down there’ will start someday and I will grow hair.”  That was it.  So when the sexual urges started in, I groped a different sibling through her diaper and slapped her bottom. 

My parents found out and I was given 100 swats and separated once again from siblings AND the rest of the family.  We lived in an apartment but the ITC gave my parents two extra rooms across the hall.  The first room was where I spent a year alone.  They would send my older siblings to me with a plate of food.  I ate alone.  I played alone.  I wasn’t permitted to go outside.  The only “outside” activity I saw was through the window and walking to the car on Sunday mornings.

Read Part Five - The Pedophile Begins to Groom.


  1. I was there. The thing that is making me sick is I was there in 94 and I almost never saw you. I saw that you were isolated when I spent time in your home, in the training center apartment. I remember you peeking into the room and then being warned by an older sibling that "mom was coming". I remember you scurrying back into hiding. I did not fathom why. I wish I had known what was happening and what to do about it.

  2. You could testify to what you did see, if you get the chance. That would help now, I am sure.

  3. I've been cussing and crying my way through your story this morning, aching for your pain, so angry at the horrors you went through. I was there and I had no idea where you were or what you were going through. I'm so sorry we weren't strong enough to ask, to check up on you, to stand up for you and defend you. You are worth protecting, worth loving, and I am in awe of your courage and bravery in writing your story. Thank you. I hope so much that Ken is held accountable for his vile actions, that your experiences are validated and condemned. Wishing you much strength, healing, and real love.

  4. I was there for a counseling session in 94, also. I was 16. I remember a session with Mrs. Copley & her talking about adoption & knowing in my gut that something was not right. I'm so, so sorry for your pain. I want to yell and scream and make them pay. It was all so wrong. I wish I could have somehow protected the little girl you. Instead I'm doing my best to protect other kids and help them understand that they are important and never deserve abuse.