The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley No Longer Employed

A friend of Incongruous Circumspection sent an email to Brownburg Baptist Church in Brownburg, Indiana, requesting that the church look into the allegations against Dr. Kenneth Copley by his adopted daughter, Ruth Esther (Copley) Burger.  This friend of the blog received the following communication from the pastor's wife, Diana Abbott.

******

Thank you for your concern. Dr. Copley is no longer on staff or our church membership as of May 20, and our web site is being updated. We were not aware of these accusations, but do take such things very seriously. We share your desire for the truth to be brought to light for the sake of all involved.

Respectfully,
Diana Abbott

******

Ruth's story was posted on this blog on June 3, 2012, which means that Dr. Kenneth Copley had already left Brownburg Baptist Church prior to its release. 


Take away what you will from this correspondence.  At this point, Incongruous Circumpection is not aware of Dr. Kenneth Copley being employed where there are minors under his care or in any position of authority over another person.  If it is discovered that he is, I will keep you posted.


Thank you,


I. C.

The Hammer Drops: Ruth Burger's (Copley) Letter to Governor Mitch Daniels

Since I posted this series earlier today, there has been a heavy response to it.  Many people have now seen this story and have commented on the blog, as well as spoken to me personally.  Some have even spoken to the victim who was named in the series.  Her name in the series in Ruth Esther Copley, but her married name now is Ruth Burger.

She has been getting inquiries as to how her case is going due to her quick mention of the non-status in the Unfinished Justice post. Rather than answering each person individually, she has elected to post a letter she wrote to the Indiana Governor, Mitch Daniels in April 2012, detailing her case, inquiring of him to step in and do the right thing.  You will see, in the text of the letter that I have copied here, the legal shenanigans that have been going on behind the scenes.

This will put her case in perspective for everyone and maybe for Governor Mitch Daniels, who has not responded at all.

Thank you,

I. C.

*****

Ruth Burger
[Address Redacted]
[Email Address Redacted]
[Phone Number Redacted]

10 April 2012

Dear Governor Mitch Daniels,

My name is Ruth Burger.  I am a former Indiana resident and an Army Veteran of the Iraq War.  In March 2004, I was admitted to Community North Hospital for suicide prevention.  During my week-long stay, I informed the mental health staff of sexual abuse committed against me by my father.  I also reported minors living within the home.  In September of the same year, I was re-admitted for a two-week stay at Community North.  While there, I once again relayed my story of physical and sexual abuse.

After moving to Colorado in 2006, I suffered yet another mental health relapse.  Cedar Springs accepted me into their mental health facility for a week-long stay.

During my hospitalization, I once again shared my history.  This time, Cedar Springs mental health professionals contacted the Indiana Hamilton County Police and filed an official report on my behalf.

Upon release from Cedar Springs, I was instructed to participate in a video interview for Hamilton County.  House of Hope conducted the interview and forwarded the information back to Hamilton County Police.

I was never again contacted by Hamilton County and simply assumed my statute of limitations had run out. 

In January 2012, I was informed my statute of limitations had not expired; I have until I am thirty/thirty-one to press charges.  I immediately contacted Detective Lana Howard of the Hamilton PD and informed her I was interested in pursuing my case.

Detective Howard forwarded my information and details of my case to the District Attorney.  In mid-February 2012, she informed me the District Attorney has not only refused to prosecute, but has refused to further investigate my case.  She also informed me in August 2011, they [the police] destroyed my evidence and interview(s) due to “lack of interest.”  She said the investigation she conducted in 2006 included my video interview and an interview with each of my younger siblings.  It was these interviews that were destroyed by the Carmel Police.  To my knowledge, no one else has been questioned personally, including my older siblings, my mother, or me.

I have contacted the Indiana Coalition of Sexual Abuse.  ICSA is currently advocating on my behalf.  Nearly four weeks ago, I asked permission to speak with the District Attorney personally so I may hear his thoughts and express my concerns.  My request has been blatantly ignored.  ICSA has also requested to speak with the Hamilton District Attorney.  As of today, none of her emails or phone calls has been returned.

Governor Daniels, gross negligence has occurred regarding the reporting, investigation, and handling of evidence in my case.  I am appalled that Indiana would move to destroy evidence and interviews before the statute of limitations passed.  It is distressing to know that my right to justice has been so severely stymied from the day I first sought help.  It is completely unacceptable that Community North mental health counselors, doctors, nurses and other professionals fully abdicated their legal obligations to file and further protect other minors from my perpetrator. 

I feel Indiana has handled my case with carelessness, neglect, and disrespect.  Is this the message Indiana wants to pass on to every woman who finds the strength and courage to speak out about their abuse?  Why would Indiana destroy evidence prior to the statute of limitations being passed?  Is this how Indiana routinely handles sexual abuse cases?   How can Community North get away with gross negligence regarding the handling and obligatory reporting of sexual abuse with full knowledge of minors still living within the home?  How many more patients have passed through Community North with unreported abuse?

Please encourage the Hamilton County District Attorney to re-open and conduct a thorough investigation into my claims.  Because my perpetrator has moved himself into a position of authority as a religious leader and counselor within Indiana, I strongly urge you to take action on my part.  He is a danger to society, a danger to the community, and a danger to every child he comes into contact with.

I eagerly look forward and expect to hear from you in the immediate future.

Sincerely,

Ruth Burger

The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley Exposed - Unfinished Justice

Begin reading the series here.  Or, go back to Exposing the Hypocrite.

*****

Eventually, I was able to get away completely from my parents, but not from my past.  I was a full-fledged cutter by the time I reached adulthood and suicidal thoughts and idealizations were never far from my mind. 

Finally after three hospitalizations for suicide prevention, law enforcement was contacted in November 2006 and a minor investigation ensued to make sure my younger siblings weren’t being molested.  I made the mistake of calling my dad to warn him he was under investigation.  Here is the conversation we had.

Me: “Hey dad, I’m out of the hospital again.  Ummm….I don’t know how to say this, but do you remember what you used to do to me?”

Dad: “Yes.”

Me: “Well, I told them about it and they filed a report.”

Dad: “Why would you do something like that!  Do you want the kids to grow up without a father?  I should’ve seen this coming.  I should’ve known you would do this to me too.  I should’ve known you would seek to destroy me.”

Me:  “Why did you molest me?  Why did you touch me when you punished me for doing less than that with the kids?”

Dad: “I molested you because you molested my children.  But in my defense, I never inserted my finger into your vagina.  I NEVER took your virginity.  And besides, I prayed and confessed to God.  It’s your sin for not forgiving me now.”

Me: “Well, I just wanted you to know.  Goodbye.”

Indiana CPS and police moved against my dad and interviewed my younger siblings.   Although I am within my statute of limitations to press charges,   Indiana has declined to even conduct an investigation into my claims based on destruction of evidence and passage of time. 

Dr. Kenneth Copley is now serving on the Pastoral Staff at Brownsburg Baptist Church as their counselor.  I have decided it is up to me and me alone to tell the truth about Dr. Kenneth Copley and his wife Elizabeth.  They beat and abused their children.  Dr. Kenneth Copley molested his adopted daughter and claims God’s forgiveness as reason to not confess and make this right.  He is the biggest Christian hypocrite I know.  He has tricked thousands of people all over this country into believing he is a “good, godly man” with a desire to help others.  I won’t deny he hasn’t helped people, but the man I know behind the mask is an unrepentant pedophile who continues to hide his wrongs behind “godly ministries.”   This is the first time I have come out publicly and denounced him, his “godly” testimony, and reputation. 

Read Ruth's Letter to Indiana Governor Mitch Daniels, detailing the case and the legal shenanigans.

The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley Exposed - Exposing the Hypocrite

Begin reading the series here.  Or, go back to Pushed to Suicide.

*****

Of course my parents found the note and woke me instantly.  Instead of taking me to the hospital and admitting I had a serious problem, they decided to handle it themselves.  That night they poured an entire bottle of Ipecac syrup down my throat and sent me off to work with my dad the next day.  Even his coworkers were concerned as they could hear me continuously vomiting all day long and my dad refused to send me home because I was sick.  I called my Youth Pastor’s wife from work and told her the story.   She told her husband and he called my dad that evening with the request to bring me in for counseling.  My dad refused and forced me to admit to my Youth Pastor that I “hadn’t tried to commit suicide.  I was only trying to get attention. Nothing is wrong with me.”  Afterwards, my dad informed me I was being sent away to Northland Baptist Bible College (NBBC) in two weeks.  I was 16.

I enrolled at NBBC one month shy of my 17th birthday.  Once my roommate walked in and found me counting pills and laying them out so I could swallow them.  I eventually told a couple of students in whispers that I believe I had been molested and told them about my dad.  This was the first time I found the courage to say, “Something bad happened to me.” 

By this age, I knew something of sexual sins.  I was aware of the term rape, but I was bit uncertain about molestation and abuse.  To me, abuse was when you had black eyes and your parents weren’t Christians.  I thought beating meant you had marks everywhere on your body when of course, under Biblical spanking, you should only mark the butt.  I believed molestation to be an act of violence ending in rape.  It took me several years to accept the fact I was molested and not every child molester leaves marks or rapes their victims.  I didn’t understand that pedophiles and their victims can actually have a “good” relationship.  It took me several more years to recognize the fact my parents didn’t “spank”, they beat me brutally and just because you strike a child on the butt instead of the face or arms doesn’t mean there isn’t abuse taking place.

College money ran out and I returned home to live as an adult in my parent’s home.  My mom and I had an unspoken agreement to simply stay out of each others’ way and it worked.  We became…very civil and polite, like strangers.  My dad and I were still close.  However, hearing his porn through my door each night (I lived in the basement now) and seeing his girlfriend (whom I knew as one of his counselee’s from ICBCI days) riding in the car each night my dad came and picked me up from work was too stressful.  So after a year at age 19, I moved out.  The affair was discovered several months later and Ken Copley resigned from ICBCI.

Read the Final Part, Part Nine - Unfinished Justice.

The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley Exposed - Pushed to Suicide

Begin reading the series here.  Or, go back to Everything but Rape.

*****

Naturally, my day-to-day behavior was getting worse.  I was stealing from gas stations, libraries, parents, siblings, etc. etc.  I was lying a lot too and home-life was splintering quickly.  For whatever reason known only to him, my dad abruptly stopped coming into my room and molesting me once I began working for him at age 15 as a secretary at ICBCI.

Even with my dad’s lessons of orgasm and masturbation and R-rated sex-filled movies, I still had questions.  I knew I couldn’t ask anyone so I decided one afternoon to Google “sex” on the computer at work.  I learned a lot that day.  I had heard the terminology “oral sex” and “homosexuality”, so it was mainly these terms I searched for.

In January 2000, my dad found out because a coworker had checked the internet history and discovered my searches.  I denied this vehemently and that night he declared there would never be any hope for me or my future.  My mom had been telling me this for years, but my dad and I were strangely close and I trusted him, even with the molestation.  I mainly trusted him because he always made himself available to me and paid me positive attention. He had never fully verbally belittled me, or at least it was very mild compared to my mom’s verbal abuse.   He was the only adult in my home-life that was nice to me and listened when I needed someone to listen to me.  He was like two different people.  “Night time dad” was bad but “daytime dad” was a safe rock and refuge.  But knowing that BOTH my parents were in agreement and believed there was no hope for me, I swallowed a whole bottle of Tylenol and left a suicide note.

Read Part Eight - Exposing the Hypocrite.

The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley Exposed - Everything but Rape

Begin reading the series here.  Or, go back to The Pedophile Begins to Groom.

*****

Because of my stealing and lying tendencies, my dad decided I shouldn’t even live with them anymore and while traveling on the weekends to different churches all over the country, began to ask people if they would give me a new home.  He even told me he asked from the pulpit if anyone could take me in that didn’t have any children since I was dangerous to them.  At one point, it almost became reality as I was sent to stay with another family as a “test trial” run.  It didn’t work out.

My parents decided to leave ATI and the ITC in September 1995.  We moved to West Baden Springs, Indiana and stayed there for a few months.  My dad was constantly traveling to find a new position for himself so I erroneously thought the worst was over and he would leave me alone.

He received the opportunity to join with Jim Logan and Mark Bubeck and open a non-profit Biblical Counseling Center in Carmel, Indiana.  He named it the International Center for Biblical Counseling of Indiana (ICBCI) and we moved to Carmel in December of 1995.  We had a large house and I was given my own room since I still wasn’t allowed to even speak to my siblings without a parent present.

He began “grooming” me again a few months later.  He used forbidden movies as one way to attract me.  Nearly any movie was “bad” so the opportunity to get around my mom’s rules and watch PG-13 movies was too much for a 13 year-old.  He would go out and rent movies like Terminator (my first R-rated movie), Grease, and the Highlander.  He would come to my room after my mom was asleep and tell me to meet him in the basement because he had a special movie to watch with me.  I’d go down to the basement and he’d have me cuddle up to him.  This was the only “positive” attention I received, and I went gladly. 

Eventually, he’d begin to move me closer and closer, rubbing my leg and moving his hand up my thigh.  Eventually, he would start to play with my breasts and developed the courage to touch my vaginal area.  He would ask me things like, “Does this feel good?”  And would continue to rub and touch till I came to an orgasm.  Then he would say, “Oh, that was nice!  I’m so glad you did that for me.  That was really special.”  Then he’d feel guilty and force me to pray with him.  He would “confess” his sin to God and ask forgiveness.  Then he’d send me off to bed.

His prayers never seemed to work.  Every night at two o’clock he would enter my bedroom.  I would be wrapped in my blankets and I would fake sleeping hoping and praying he would go away.  He never did.  He would pull the blankets off me, remove my clothes, suck on my nipples, and stick his tongue down my ear.  He never tried to force himself on me and never actually raped me, but by this point, it didn’t matter.  The damage was done.

Read Part Seven - Pushed to Suicide.

The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley Exposed - The Pedophile Begins to Groom

Begin reading the series here.  Or, go back to A Curious Child.

*****

During this time at the ITC, my dad started exhibiting strange behavior.  First it was simply cuddling while he cupped my butt.  Then he would hold me and rub himself against me over and over and over again.  He’d make me stand up and wrap my arms around his waist while he held me close and gyrated against me.  Then he received keys that allowed him access to any empty room at the ITC. 

Occasionally, he would enter the room and have me follow him down the hall to a separate, locked room.  Once my older sibling asked him what he needed me for and he said he was praying with me down the hall.  He wasn’t praying, he was holding and groping me through my clothes.  But he insisted he was counseling and praying over me to anyone who asked.

Once, he woke me up in the middle of the night, took me across the hall to an empty room that only he had access too.  He sat down in the chair and begged to see me naked.  He promised he wouldn’t touch; he would only “look.”  I started crying and refused.  He took me back to my room and had me lay spread eagled on my back while he pulled my underwear down and caressed my pubic area while murmuring, “You’re so beautiful.”

I didn’t know this was molestation.  I didn’t know this was sexual abuse.  I didn’t know I was being groomed by a pedophile.  I didn’t even know for sure if what he was doing was WRONG since HE was the one who beat me and separated me for doing far LESS than what he was doing now.  All I knew was that I wanted to kill myself.  I didn’t want to live separated from the family for the rest of my life and I didn’t want my dad touching me.  So I started to fantasize about cutting my wrists, overdosing, or throwing myself off the thirteenth story of the ITC.

During this time, I began to over eat and steal from family members.  This made my mom hate me even more.  She told me things like, “You should never have been born.  I wish I had never laid eyes on you.”  Then of course, to make everything she said “godly,” she would iterate, “And if you lived in the Bible times, we’d have you stoned to death.”  Great.  So on one hand my dad is molesting me while my mother is saying that by God’s mouth and if it was legally possible, I would be put to death at age 11 and 12.  Nice.  In the meantime, my dad was leading me in all sorts of prayers for demonization, giving ground to Satan, and generational curses as means to stop behavior that resulted from his hand. 

Read Part Six - Everything but Rape.

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.

The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley Exposed - Severe Homeschooling

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

*****

During this time my parents were also homeschoolers which meant I was taught at home by my mom.  I was absolutely terrified.   I wanted to vomit the day she announced I was to start my homeschooling with her the next day.  By this time, I was so terrified of her that whenever she would ask me any sort of question, I would completely freeze up.  Concepts I understood just moments before would escape my mind as she would relentlessly hammer problem after problem into my head.  And yes, I got spanked my first day of school for not being able to find and circle every “A” on the page. 

By this age, the spanking implements my parents used had advanced.  At first, it was just the wooden spoon.  We had a running joke in the home that my mom couldn’t keep wooden spoons around because my dad would often break the wooden spoon across any child’s bare butt in two swats.  Then, my mom broke a wooden pant hanger on me.  They used metal kitchen spoons, belts of various sizes and thicknesses, and eventually, my dad settled on 1x2, about three feet long.  This became the spanking implement of choice.  It’s also interesting to note my siblings were never struck with anything more than a hand or a wooden spoon.  Not to belittle their experiences, but I’m simply stating the fact my parents utilized measures with me far beyond anything they tried with their biological children.

School became a nightmare.  Flashcards scared me the absolute worst.  It became the norm on a daily basis that for each missed wrong answer, I would be spanked.  If I got the answer wrong, I was to immediately stand up, pull down my pants and underwear, and bend over the arm of the living room chair.  Each subsequent wrong answer was met with another spanking.  And another.  And another.  Eventually, I became so terrified I couldn’t retain anything taught from the day before and everything felt out of control.

One afternoon, my mom asked me to read an analog clock.  I looked up and answered “1:00.”  “No.  It’s one minute before 1:00.  What’s one minute before 1:00?”  Because I had gotten the answer wrong, I went into instant freeze mode and couldn’t come up with the correct answer.  And thus began my afternoon from hell.

From 1:00 until nearly 4:30, my mom beat me with the 1x2 until I finally came up with the right answer.  For those skeptics who say it couldn’t have gone on that long, just know this:  my mom developed such deep splinters from the wood that she had to wrap her end of the stick in a towel because she couldn’t grip the wood anymore.  Eventually, I was forbidden to even pull up my pants after each spanking and thus stood, pants and underwear around my ankles as I shook and gave random, wrong answers.  At one point, I must have guessed the right answer because suddenly she grabbed me and pulled me out to the living room.  She called an older sibling into the room and asked me, “What is one minute before 1:00?”  I couldn’t remember.  Back to the bedroom until I finally guessed the right answer, and this time, I made SURE I ALWAYS knew what one minute before 1:00 was.   I remember her having me show my butt to Ken Copley the next day and having her proudly comment on all the coloring and deep bruising going on.  My dad praised her for “hanging in there” with me and my mom noted she “should’ve called [my dad] home so he could’ve taken over the spankings for her.”  She was exhausted, but pleased she had driven “rebellion” from my heart. 

After this incident, this treatment translated into nearly every single aspect of my life.  Failure to be able to make a complete round on the monkey bars resulted in me going outside every night and getting a spanking each time I fell off until I finally learned how to be able to go BOTH ways on the monkey bars. It became part of my daily routine to go outside after supper and spend the entire evening getting spanked until bedtime. I learned how to ride my bike in this exact same manner.  At each meal, I had twenty minutes to clean my plate.  If my plate wasn’t empty after twenty minutes, the clock was set to five minute increments and I was spanked every five minutes till the plate was empty.  I learned how to clip my fingernails using the beat-until-learned method.  My parents made it very clear they both supported each other with these methods because the Bible told them I was rebellious and God promised spanking would fix me.

Read Part Four - A Curious Child.

The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley Exposed - Severe Physical Abuse

Begin reading the series here.

*****

Not surprisingly, my behavioral problems did NOT stop with my second adoption, but rather increased ten-fold.  Both of my parents were extremely demanding and expected instantaneous, unquestioning, complete, obedience.  For me, in particular, this type of exactness was a far cry from what I experienced in the Bible’s home.  My parents believed the “rod” was the ONLY form of correction and they used it often throughout the day.

My first spanking I can remember was for dancing at age four.  I wasn’t even dancing, per se, I was sitting on my knees and wiggling in time to music on the radio.  My mom grabbed me and beat me for disobedience.  I supposedly understood CLEARLY at age four that dancing was a forbidden, evil activity spawned from the depths of hell itself.  I never danced again.

My parents decided I needed even MORE discipline in my life, so they gave my two older siblings age 9 and 7 full parental rights over me.  This meant if they saw me doing anything or “disobeying” rules, they had the right – no, the obligation - to beat me, as well.  And if THEY decided to beat me, they had to report to my parents so I could undergo a second parental beating as well.  If my parents went out for the evening together, my sisters would conjure any reason to spank me and then my parents would return home late, yank me out of bed and sleep, to reinforce a nine-year-old’s call to spank.  I do not blame my siblings for their behaviors as they too were simply following the rules and they would have faced the same discipline if they HADN’T followed through on my parent’s guidance.  They are not responsible and once they reached an age where they realized they were wrong, they stopped their behavior and later apologized voluntarily to me. 

My parent’s fully believed that spanking would fix any and all problems with me.  As I grew older, the spankings became longer and more brutal.  While they spanked each of my siblings, (eventually they had seven biological children) I underwent the worst and cruelest of them all.  It was my father who decided bare-butt spankings was the most effective way to spank.  He also began to pray before each spanking asking God to “give him strength.”  My parents also believed spanking should continue INDEFINITELY until the child “cried softly” and the cry itself had “changed” to prove “brokenness of spirit and a genuine desire to repent.”  This meant I was routinely given 30-50 swats.  Sometimes, I was given two spankings back-to-back.  The first spanking was for the infraction, the second spanking was to reiterate the fact I was NOT TO CRY LOUDLY and they would continue to the second spanking to make their point.  On two separate occasions, my mom bloodied my mouth by striking me across the face mid-spanking to make me stop crying.

Read Part Three - Severe Homeschooling.

The Hammer Drops: Dr. Kenneth Copley Exposed - Adoption into a Family

This is the long-promised, nine-part series that will expose the evils perpetrated by Dr. Kenneth Copley.  While you read, keep in mind that this man is still serving as a staff member of Brownburg Baptist Church in Brownburg, Indiana as a Pastor of Discipleship.

This series is written by the victim in the first person.  Many of the details are very graphic.  You have been warned.

*****

Sometimes, good people do bad things.  Sometimes, evil people pretend they are good while fooling everyone around them.  Some have experience with the former; I have personal experience with the latter.

On the surface level, most believed my family epitomized the ideal Christian family.  Over the years, we never missed a service.  My dad was a pastor and later became a well-known name in Biblical Counseling.  He specialized in family and marital counseling.  He led the largest Sunday school class in our church.  He became a published author  and was invited to Kenya, Africa to teach pastors.  My mom was an Awana leader and a church choir member.  Nearly all of us kids took yearly awards in Awana and other activities.  I personally joined the Awana Bible quiz team as a child and took multiple awards for Christian Service and Bible Memory as a teen.  I became one of the church pianists. I also sang in the church choir and was the youth group pianist.  We had family Bible reading every day followed with prayer.  Bible memory was a daily activity.  We stayed away from movie theaters, refused to listen to rock music, and watched ourselves carefully for modesty.  Anywhere we went, people knew our name.  So surely, my parents desired to follow the Lord in all areas and desired the same for the children, right?

I was born in Seoul, Korea as Su-Yong Park.  My family lived in extreme poverty and at one month of age, my father placed me into Korea’s adoption system.  Five months later my overseas adoption was approved and I was placed with a family who last name was Bible, in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  They decided to re-christian me as Julie Anna Marie Bible and I became part of their family.  While I could spend hours dissecting what went wrong within their home, it’s easiest to simply state I had behavioral problems and they decided they couldn’t or wouldn’t deal with them.  From what I’ve been able to piece together of my earliest years, eventually the Bible’s contacted the State and asked to have me temporarily placed with another family when I was around three years of age.

Kenneth Copley, an Independent Fundamental Baptist (IFB) Pastor at Normandale Baptist Church, in Bloomington, Minnesota, and his wife Elizabeth, a stay-at-home mother to their three biological children, were part of a new religious movement called The Advanced Training Institute of America. Incongruous Circumspection has written copious articles about this program so I will not go into great detail about ATI and Bill Gothard.  For reasons beyond my understanding and knowledge, they were also approved as foster parents by Minnesota and it was to their home I was redirected.

For some reason, everyone involved decided I was better off staying with the Copley’s than the Bible’s, so after months of being moved back and forth between their homes, the Copley’s were awarded full guardianship and my second adoption was finalized when I was five.  Once Ken Copley told me I had run to the Bible’s and told them, “They pull off my pants and underwear and spank me on my bare butt,” which was true.  How I wish someone had listened instead of blowing it off as a “good thing” to happen to me.  I was terribly confused and frightened during those days.  I remember each night asking myself, “Who is my mom?  Do I even HAVE a mom?  Who’s gonna be my mom tomorrow?  I thought mom was “forever” but now they’re telling me that my old mom is NOT my mom and this new woman is my mom.”  I was a very scared and uncertain little girl.

Once my adoption was final, my name was changed a third time to Ruth Esther Copley.  And thus began a nightmare from hell over the next twelve years. 

Read Part Two - Severe Physical Abuse