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

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

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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.

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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.