Below is a story of what happened to one Church of God man who was sent by his family, at the recommendation of a Church of God minister, to an Ex-gay conversion therapy camp that was supposed to be able to cast the "gay demon" out of individuals. He has published this story in a book that was recently released. The story below does not even get into the mental and physical abuse he received at home from his mother and father.
I have to admit it that when I read it the first time I thought there no way that this happened this way, It has to be made up. However, there are tremendous tales of abuse in numerous ex-gay conversion therapy groups that are spread around this country. Thousands of lives have been ripped apart by these groups, most of which are run by so-called Christians. In his conversations on Facebook I have no doubt as to the veracity of his story.
Today, James works to assist homeless kids who have been kicked out of their homes by "christian" parents. He finds then shelter, food and brings some sense of decency back into their lives. Things that real Christians should be doing, but do not.
There have been numerous stories over the decades of Church of God men and women who have been subjected to these conversion camps. This by far has to be the worst I have heard.
Let it be know that James has recently discovered the location of this camp and has also found out the names of those who ran it. That may be released by him later as he gathers more information.
NOTE: Be forewarned that the story below is shocking and graphic. If you are a delicate Armstrongite who still believes that the COG never had any evil in it then go back to reading Mystery of the Ages and continue to dream of Petra or your planet you are going to rule.
I was asleep in my room. The door flies open and these two men grab me. Mom and dad are in the hallway. I didn't know what was going on and was asking who they were and what was happening. Dad just said go with them James, they are going to help you. So I did, there was a van in the driveway, I walked up to it in my PJs and bare feet. There was a woman in the back, I sat in the middle, the two men in the front. It wasn't like in the movies where they drive up, snatch someone and drive away. There were no handles inside to where I could open the door. I asked where we were going. One man up front turned around and said shut up faggot! I did. As we backed out of the driveway I had no idea what was about to happen to me. We drove through my neighborhood, to the on ramp of I-20 west. I knew the landmarks from my police chase and the many trips we had taken to Shreveport. After we passed Arcadia the woman in the back put a black hood over my head. I asked her PLEASE tell me, what are you going to do. She said you just don't need to see where we are going. I started to cry and was scared to death. I know we left the interstate because the ride got rough. Finally we stop, she pulls the hood off. It was dark out and cold. There was a cinder block building, a fence, a double door with a light above it. We went into a hallway I would say about 15 feet in there was a door on the left. There were two men standing in front of it. We go in, one says strip. I was terrified but, I did as he said. There was a shower stall, he said shower now with this soap. It stunk, was not like the soap we had at home. So I showered with four men and one woman watching. He handed me a towel, I dried. Another said raise up your arms. I did, then he used a gloved hand to reach into a bag, then he threw this white powder on me. Said turn and did the same to my backside. Another man handed me a jumpsuit. It was tan and had snaps up the front and the back. We walk back into the hallway to a door on the right, there was a covered walkway to another building. I am barefoot and shaking from the cold and fear. One man says once inside you are not allowed to speak to anyone and I mean anyone, you hear me queer? Yes sir I answered. He unlocks the door, we walk into what looked like a warehouse. I am not good with dimensions but it was huge. Inside were cages made of chain-link, like our fence at home. Each had a chain link door very similar to a gate and on each gate there was a lock. There were at least 50 cages and most had someone in it. They lead me to an empty cage, open the door and tell me to go in. I could hear crying and I smelled what I thought was a backed up sewer. Inside the cage there was a cot and some chain that was threaded through the chain link ceiling or top of the cage. On each end of the chain, there were some sort of straps. There was no mattress for the cot, no pillow and no blanket. There were no toilets either. They close the door then click on the lock. I sat on the cot and after I heard them lock the outside door. I asked the boy in the cage next to me. What is this place? Well it didn't take long until the outside door opened and all the lights came on. To my cage they ran. I was so scared. They unlocked and opened my door. A man had a snow white bible. It was hardbound looked to be leather, I will never forget it because I had never seen a bible that white before. Dad had one but it was more of an eggshell tone. Eggshell, oh that just proves how gay I really am!! I backed up to the wall of the cage, as he ran at me with the bible held high. He struck me on top of my head, then once across the right side of my face, then the left. I could taste my blood in my mouth and feel it running down my chin. I stood up and started to try and fight back. He screamed OH NO DEMON YOU WILL NOT RESIST!! I stopped. Did I have a demon in me I thought? They pulled off my jumpsuit, then put the straps hanging from the ceiling around my wrists. Secured them with four zip ties each. They were very tight. I was shaking, bleeding, I was able to stand, but, that was all. I had to have been in shock because I felt no pain at all. The sun came up, went back down and then up again before they released me from the straps. I had used the bathroom on myself, number one and number two, I was exhausted. I was taken back to the shower, I washed myself. Then was given another jumpsuit. I had to get help putting it on because I forgot to snap the snaps in the back. I was taken past the door that lead to the warehouse further down the hall to an office. There was a man I would guess in his late 40's sitting behind an old metal desk. Two men stood beside me, one on either side as I sat in a chair. He said as far as I was concerned he was God and that I had no chance of escape. He wasn't talking to me, he was addressing the demon inside me. That everything was a privilege here right down to a single drop of water. From there I was taken to a room with no windows, there was a claw foot tub in the middle, it was not attached to any plumbing. It was about half full of water and ice. I had to take off my jumpsuit and get in the tub. It was so cold and my feet were already blue from standing so long on the cold concrete in my cage. This man explained the only way to weaken the demon was for me to suffer physical pain. So in order for me to be saved, I was going to suffer. I thought I was used to it, they quickly showed me I wasn't. The ice baths were almost a daily event, along with prayer, as the staff laid hands on me. I was taken to my cage, reminded to not speak and was able to get some sleep. My cot was wet from them spraying the floor from when I had used the bathroom on myself... I was in my third day and had not eaten anything. I had been given water. I had no idea what was coming next. I was taken from my cage to a new room. There was a large wooden table, I call them moving straps, attached to a come along and the straps were about a foot apart. I was told to lay on my back, they strapped me down and then had a pretty big wash cloth or dishtowel crammed in my mouth. I remember it being dry. There were several men in the room, they were praying out loud. One was standing by some sort of machine on a rolling cart. He wheeled it over and was standing at the end of the table at the top of my head. He was wearing thick black gloves, I could see he had something in both hands. As the other men held up their bibles and started speaking in tongues, all of a sudden I felt the shock hit my head. It was awful and I had never experienced anything like this before. It freaking hurt, I could smell burning hair. Yes back then I had hair! I thought I was going to throw up, with that rag in my mouth. A few moments later, BOOM, it happened again. Remember I am strapped down and can't move. He wheels the cart away. I am dizzy and shaking uncontrollably. All leave the room except one. There are no windows and very little light in the room. He is standing on my left side near my head. He removes the cloth from my mouth. He replaces it with an oval ring, it was hard plastic, almost like a small cut of PVC pipe. I could not close my mouth, just bite down on the ring. He climbs on the table with me, puts his knees on either side of my head. Then sits back on my chest. He pulls his penis out of his sweat pants, then says here it comes. He urinated on my face, up my nose and in my mouth. When he was finished he punched me in my stomach to force me to swallow. I passed out. There will be more about this room later.As I was told everything here was a privilege. To eat or get water I had to earn points. Sometimes it was cleaning or they would make us do something to another kid there. Mostly it was punch or spit on them. Sometimes we had to have sex with one another. One time I was made to poop, on someone’s head. I remember there was a boy that was tied to the wooden table. He looked like he was sleeping, but, he was actually unconscious. I had to clean up his vomit and where he had crapped himself. They made me watch as they counted how many ball point pens they could fit in his anus. All of this happened to me while I was there as well.We are still not allowed to talk to each other, several nights a week they would play loud gospel music, plus, keep the lights on to make it impossible for us to sleep. At least once a week it was a group punishment for us to me sprayed down with a water hose while locked in our cages.Past the office where I had gotten my first pep talk, there was a hallway to the right. There were two doors, one on either side of the hall. The first one I was taken to was on the left. There was a chair in the center of the room. Not like any chair I had ever seen before. There are metal rings all over it, I am about to find out what they are used for. Where my hands would go there was a cut out in the shape of a hand. The rings were for the straps to secure me. They were about three inches apart and I was strapped in from my neck to my ankles. The strap around my neck made me look up towards the light fixture. I was told to open my fingers, I felt them being secured to the cutout with zip ties. I know it was zip ties because of the sound. ZIP.... ZIP... etc. One man was praying, then inches from my face, he would scream at the demon inside me. Every so often he would hit me in the head with his bible. Then another came over and pushed his hand back on my forehead. He shoved this round piece of wood in my mouth like a horse bit. He did not stop pushing back on my forehead screaming for this demon to leave my body. I felt someone around my right hand, then pain like I have never felt before. They used a rubber mallet to pound round toothpicks underneath my fingernails. Did not stop until the toothpick came through the top part of the nail. Meanwhile they are all screaming for the demon to show itself. They did two to four nails a session, either on my hands or feet. After the toothpicks were pulled out they put a cream on them, covered the nail with a Band-Aid, then I was taken back to my cage. Sometimes dragged because I could not walk. One evening two men come to my cage, open the door, then pull me out by my arm. I smelled whiskey, I know this smell well because of my mom. They take me to the room where I had been shocked. They strap me down, I was terrified. One put the plastic ring back in my mouth. I struggled, but, there was no way I could stop them. They both took off their pants, had erections, then by climbing on the table with me, used my throat and mouth to finish themselves off. This happened so many times. I can't begin to tell you all of the shame and guilt I still carry around with me to this day. I wish I could say it was over, but, it was not. Many times the same two men would bring me to this room, tie me down and rape me. No lubrication, no romance, just forced entry. It felt like I was being ripped apart. I would bleed from my ass for hours. I now understood why all the children here were so quiet and lifeless. It was bone chilling fear. In the other room across the hall, I was to learn a new type of therapy. I would be tied down naked, someone would tape exposed wires to different parts of my body. From my genitals to my head. Then I was shown slides from a projector. Dog, man and woman, two men kissing. BAM they would shock the shit out of me. Kitten, tree, penis and them BAM again. This went on for hours. I still have scars on my inner thighs. Reminders that I was assumed to be damaged and that God would never love me. Not every time I went into the toothpick room did they take off nails. Sometimes they would beat me with their bible's and scream what a piece of shit I was along with other catchy little ditties. I did lose all my finger and toe nails over the 17 weeks. They all grew back over time, but, they don’t look like they did before. The final part of the therapy only happened to me one time. I was taken to the table in the shock room, strapped face down with two large pillows placed under my hips to make my butt stick up into the air. My legs were spread before those straps were tightened. I was so afraid of what was coming next. I thought with five men being in the room I was about to be gang raped. I was penetrated but, not by a penis. All the items they did this with gradually got larger until I had a glass coke bottle inside me. I am sure from the conversation these men were making videos of every disgusting thing they did to us.This is all I can type about what happened to me at the hands of these monsters. My mind simply has to stop.I was brought my clothes, told to shower, then dress. I was thin when I arrived, but, now I was sick looking. My PJ's just hung off of me. I was taken back to the office with the metal desk. The same man who talked to me the first time was going to again. He said I had a very powerful demon in me and that my parents needed to send me to another place that could deal with it. A tougher camp. He said I was putting the other kids at risk because I did not have enough faith in God to be cured. I was told God and my family hated me. That all they did here was try to help me, to never speak of the treatment. That it was me who let God down. That they would have to bring David here and do the same things to him if I said anything. Was told I was responsible for my entire family's souls that they would burn in hell forever because of me. The lady that rode in the back of the van put a hood back over my head, we drove away. Once back on Interstate 20 East it was removed. At my house they didn't even turn into the driveway. Put me out on the street and drove away. I ran to the door, I guess the parents knew I was coming home. My dad met me at the door. Dad said to me, you are not welcome here, that I was no longer his son. That he had done all he could to save me. That the 25 thousand dollars he spent on me going to conversion therapy was wasted. The therapist, if one could call them that, told dad I didn't even try. That I did not want to get rid of my demon. He handed me a small suitcase that had some clothes in it, then sent me away. The first 2 days I did go to a local church that had a soup kitchen for the homeless. They always had to talk to someone before they would serve them. When I told the pastor why my family put me out, both times he told me that there was nothing there for me and to leave. I was starving. He said he was a man of God, but, didn't act like one. Years later he was thrown out of his church for touching little girls. Excerpt printed by permission of author: Rusted Rhinestones: A Memoir by Ms Fifi Frost