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

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

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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 - 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.