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Chapter 3

Saturday, December 10.

            Last night we went to church from 18:00 until close to 22:00.  All the residents of the farm travel to the church in a school bus which is driven by one of the black brothers.  Not wanting to be late again, I arrived at the bus early.  This gave me the advantage of watching all the people as they entered.  The children are quite cheerful and well behaved.  I estimate that there are ten to fifteen, half boys and half girls.  Dave has a good relationship with all of them.  They laugh with and hug him like a big teddy bear.  This is in stark contrast to how I have gotten to know him.  Yet, Dave does yield a firm hand over them, and if a child gets out of control as children do, he is quick to correct the situation before the child’s own parent.  Crying is one of the things I see he does not tolerate.  I get the impression that Dave more than augments the authority of the children’s natural fathers, but that he supersedes it.  In a world where parents have forgotten how to parent, this can be seen as an admirable situation, though I would resent such an intrusion.  With all of the evils of society and pier pressures to transgress from God’s commands that kids on the outside face, these children here have it good.  I might approve of raising a young child here had I one, except for one very important thing.  As they grow up they will realize that they are living in a closed society where they will never get beyond a position set for them. They will have a hard adjustment to face when they choose to leave this place.  I hope their education includes preparation toward that end.. I wonder if the children are told that leaving here is the same as going to hell.   My guess is that this teaching is given to the kids since it is one of Stair’s strongest admonitions.

            When we arrived at the Campground, we joined the residents who live there in the tabernacle for services.  In all, there are nearly sixty people in attendance.  The tabernacle is a midsize auditorium with rows of metal fold out chairs facing a pulpit area.  As in most churches, a curtain hides the back stage area where there may be sound and radio equipment set up.  There are some sound system speakers up front facing the chairs.  This is a bare bones setup. There are no elaborations present which one might expect in an apostate main- line type church.  The minimum has been expended to make the church functional, and comfortable.  For as long as Stair preaches, the metal chairs got quite hard, and I noticed many had brought cushions to sit on. 

            The children know the church procedures.  They immediately went to their chairs, and facing away from the pulpit, got on their knees to pray.  Their parents also did the same and they buried their faces on their chairs to pray.  This reminded me of a Pentecostal or Baptist  tradition.  Not wanting to appear too different, I followed the cue and did the same.  But when it appeared much time was spent in this position, I got up, as I was finished praying quickly.  The people stayed on their knees for a long time and began to moan and wail.  Some began to speak in tongues and make noises.  Some said the same things over and over again like chanting.  This went on for close to an hour, and it made me discern something was not right about it.  Unhappiness was the tone or their prayers.

            Though I heard only one man speaking quietly in a definite foreign tongue, I could hear a multitude of definite fakers.  And the fakers were the loudest of all.  Others were chanting what amounted to be “mantras” in a Catholic fashion.  The session wound down with tears and crying, and with great emotional expression.  Then Ralph Stair came out from the back, and the real show began.

            Stair has a definite gift for preaching.  He uses that gift to the best of his psychological advantage.  At first I found myself enjoying his preaching.  He joked and included members of the audience in it.  However, Stair’s focus and emotional state change frequently and he soon became verbally abusive to individual members and the group and as a whole.

            It appears there was an elderly sister suffering from old age and was on her death bed in another building.  Stair spoke of her passing being imminent, but that she was not afraid and needed no medical or physical attention because she was in God’s hands.  He made light of her condition in the face of leaving this old wicked world for the Kingdom of Heaven.  In one sense, I know it is right to pass in peace without tubes being put all over you to prolong the inevitable.  But I didn’t get a good feeling about how Stair was portraying the situation.  Any further opinion of mine on this though will be irrelevant, seeing that I don’t know the whole story.

            During Stair’s opening comments, he mentioned that he was indeed on the air (over the radio).  He came around to mentioning me and my presence as a visitor.              “Brother Mark from San Diego has come to visit with us.  He’s here to work, and I want you men to make sure he works.”  He went on to tell the group how I first was greeted by him and how he told me to shut up and do as I’m told. “We’re going to see why Mark is here and we’re going to straighten him out.”  He exaggerated facts to make his role in the story more authoritative.

            Within a half hour, Stair’s focus turned from individuals toward preaching. The congregation listened intently as he went from one topic to another.  I could not follow his path of logic through the topics, as he would call out Bible phrases to back up his points.  The people listened quietly, which upset Stair.  He would often stop and ask if we could hear him and his meaning.  The crowd would affirm loudly, but Stair would retort them calling out insults. 

            “I don’t believe you people.  You’re stupid.  You can’t even comprehend what I’m saying.  Oh if you only had half a brain you could see what I’m saying.  You’re knuckle heads.”  Still the congregation would affirm with “Amen” and “Truth” calls. 

            Stair went on and on obnoxiously for three hours.  He was going to let another brother do some preaching (Joe Marler), but he got carried away with himself and postponed him until some other time.  If anyone has ever heard the broadcast of the tabernacle services on the radio, they can understand my meaning.  However, they will be missing half the show, for Stair holds onto a microphone and runs all over the head of the room as he speaks.  He holds strange body positions, almost standing on his head at times, as he strains to get a message across.  His face and eyes contort in a manner I’d not think possible of an old man.  In person, his speech hisses because he has missing teeth needed to aid in forming the words.  By the time the night was over, I was overloaded with non-squatter thoughts.  I could see that everyone had been worn down, but at the same time praising the “Prophet” and his words.  We had a quiet exhausted ride back to the farm arriving back at about 22:30.  This is what went on last night in church.  This morning we went to church again.  I’ll write about that now.

2

            I slept good last night.  The bed is comfortable, and I was tired from such a trying day.  Last night I was thinking things just had to improve, but they didn’t. 

            I was still half asleep when I heard John leave his room at about 7:15.  I figured it was a clue that I should be up and moving.  Still to this point, the routine of the place had not been explained to me, so I was guessing at everything.  When I arrived at Fellowship hall at 7:45, thinking breakfast might be around 8:00, I found I was again late, and a bit underdressed.  The people were already dressed for church.  I quickly took some food and drink to my place. 

            The breakfast consisted of some of the same breads and fruits from last night, some hot cereal wheat cereal, and potatoes. The food is very fresh and very good.  For the Sabbath meals, the food is prepared on Friday afternoon, and the meals are quick and simple so that the women have minimal work to do. 

            When I got to my seat, I found a young family I had not yet seen had taken up position at my once lone table.  By their actions I knew they were visitors like me.  I introduced myself, trying not to interrupt their meal.  The husband’s name is Doug.  He is a well built average size white man, 5’11’’, near 30 years old, and 190 pounds. He is a gentleman with a gentle way about him, and very attentive to his wife and two young daughters.  The wife is a pretty girl with dark long hair, 5’4’’ and near 28 years old.  In her arms, and in a shoulder sling, was their youngest girl of nursing age, and the other daughter is a well behaved 3 years old.  They come from the New England/New York area and have the accent to prove it.  This is their second visit to see “the Prophet,” and they are scheduled to stay until next Sunday.  I talked a bit with Doug, telling him about Texas, and about Brother Ben’s Christian music tape “Seed Time & Harvest”.  I offered to bring him one, but he acted closed minded and accepted only halfheartedly.  It became apparent to me that he was mesmerized by this place, but that his wife was not happy being here.  After breakfast was finished,. many women had come by our table to ask to hold the baby.

            Other than a few hello’s, no one else had yet spoken to me.  Not knowing what to do after breakfast was over, I asked Doug if he knew what came next.

            “I don’t know what comes next Brother Mark.  No one has told me yet either.  Seems the person to talk to is Brother Dave,” Doug said shrugging his shoulders.  “I think the bus leaves for church near 10:30 though.”

            Since, by the looks of things I was under dressed for church, I went back to my place and changed clothes and played some banjo tunes.  I heard John come in and go out at 9:45 without saying anything.  After a time I got nervous that I might be late for something again, so I left as well and found the bus loading to leave already.  “Boy,” I thought, “these guys sure are not very nice to visitors.  In any other place, you would get some instructions as to times and places.  Am I being set up to look like a fool?”  Glad I was not late this time.

            This morning’s services were much the same confusing mass of teachings as last night.  Again people were on their knees for a very long time wailing and calling out for Jesus.  I am embarrassed as a Christian to be represented this way.  The same people were saying the same things in their prayers again and the same fakers were faking the same things again.  What is very interesting to watch is the children.  Their ways tell another story.  In their actions and reactions is the note of confusion.  Though adults can mask their misgivings to fit a part, children can not  It shows obvious to me by watching the older kids that they are not comfortable with the mental manipulation they live with.

            If it seems that I am drawing quick conclusions upon this group which might seem rash, I am sure that I’m not.  I would not infer that anything was wrong here if I was not absolutely sure of it.

            Stair preached for a very long time.  He commented that last night’s long winded sermon had been rough on him, but it had not held him back a bit today.  My visiting came up again as he spoke.  I had fazed out and was day dreaming, so I was not listening to him at all after a time - just pretending to be attentive - when he made a comment in my direction which brought me back into focus..

            He said, “Isn’t that right Brother Mark?” as he moved toward me to the end of the microphone cord.  “I mean you ought to say Amen to that.” 

            I sat looking at him wishing I had known what he was talking about.

            “Amen, Brother Mark!  You’d better say amen Brother!  Say it!” he shouted.

            “Amen!” I responded, knowing that we were on the radio and not wanting to make a scene for the world to hear. 

            “You know, Brother Mark here says he came from Texas after helping Brother Ben.  You didn’t help Brother Ben.  No no.  Ben probably thinks he’s a prophet too.  You notice how I didn’t promote Brother Ben when he first came on the air and you told me about him Mark?  I just knew he wasn’t going to amount to much.  Ben’s not a preacher.  He doesn’t belong on the radio preaching.  He’s out of his calling and I knew that... didn’t I?  It’s not his calling!

            “Brother Mark knows Ralph Epperson and lots of other “important” people.  Well, they’re nobodies.  It was I who first introduced them all on the radio... Gary Kah, Ralph Epperson, John Cohlmann, Rod Lewis, Texe Marrs...they are nothing without me.  I was on the air before all of them.  Short wave radio was not popular until I started it out.  I’m the Last Prophet of God. 

            “Now I’m sure they are all fine men.  Brother Ben too.  But there will be a lot of fine men going to hell, which is where I’m sure a lot of them are going. Take Brother Texe for instance.  He’s not a preacher and he knows it.  But he brings a fine teaching.  Well, even Texe has problems promoting with that evil “Rapture” doctrine. 

            “Well, Brother Mark from San Diego is visiting us for a few months.  I want to make sure that he works.  You hear that Brother Mark?  You see, I would like to know that I can depend upon you brothers.  Brother Mark, he’s here for just a short while.  I don’t expect much out of him.  But he’s here to lighten the load for you.  It’s a hard life, but it’s a Godly life.  I don’t care if Brother Mark ever listens to me again after he leaves here, in fact he probably won’t.  You hear me Brother Mark.  After you leave here you will probably never listen to me again!!”

            This was all I can remember of what he said, though not exact, it is recorded somewhere.  Remember now, Stair moves back and forth and holds strange body postures as he speaks in vehement tones.  I got the feeling that the last statement might be a prophetic one.

            Stair let up and let the black man Joe Marler, who was postponed from last night, speak.  The man opened the Bible and preached a whole sermon on the topic of “questions”.

            “Questions.  Always questions.  Why do people always have questions when all they have to do is shut up and listen?  The Lord was giving his message on the end times and those apostles had a million questions which the Lord did not always answer.  If the men would have listened to His words they would have no questions.  Look here where it says ‘And He went through the cities and villages, teaching, and journeying toward Jerusalem.’  It was not enough for them to learn from the Lord though, for as we read, ‘Then said one unto him, Lord, be there few that are saved?’  Another question.  Always questions.” (ref. Luke 13: 22, 23)

            Of course the meaning of the sermon is to follow and not ask questions.  When the man was finished, Stair preached for another long time until we were finally let out of services at about 14:30.  Just when you thought Stair was about to wind down many times, he would get onto another kick and go again.  It was amazing to me he even finished.  Completely drained, I went straight to my room when we arrived back at the farm.  I kept saying to myself, “I can’t sit through any more of his preaching.”  Another side of me keeps saying, “You’ll get used to it.  It’s just for a while. You can handle it.  There’s no reason to quit yet.”  But becoming desensitized to this goings on is what I’m afraid of.

            I read my Bible to search out my next move.  I decided again to stay.  God has me here for some purpose.  I was in my room for an hour playing my banjo when I heard a voice calling out for me.

            “Brother Mark, Brother Mark.  Are you around here?”  I was shocked to recognize it as Stair himself.

            I got up with banjo in hand and went outside, and from around the corner through the trees appears Stair.  “I’m here,” I called.

            “There you are.  The other brothers and sisters are having fellowship in Fellowship Hall,” he said point that way.  “After services we gather there to have a chat and be with each other.  Do you know why I came out myself to get you?”

            “No. I don’t know anything that goes on here.”

            He said, “When the shepherd looses one lamb, he will leave all the others behind to go out and get that one which is lost.  You see, your soul is my responsibility now from here on.  I can’t do my job if I let you stay lost, so I left all the others just to come get you.”

            “I didn’t know you all were there.  No one has told me any of the routines.  I just like to be alone anyway.  The people here are quite rude.”

            “Well, I was talking to the folks and looking around and asked,  ‘Where’s my Vagabond?’  I said I can’t give an important talk without my Vagabond, so I came looking for you.  What was the first thing God said to Adam in the garden?”

            “He said it is good,” I said.

            “No.  He said it is not right for man to be alone.  So he made him a helpmeet.  Not a helpmate, but a helpmeet.  Eve was put there for to help Adam meet his obligation to God, and to provide fellowship.  It is not right for you to want to be alone because others will help you meet your obligation to God.  So come and join us now; the people are waiting.  By the way, are you any good on that thing?

            “No,  I just plunk around on it a little.  I’ll put it away and join you.”

            When I came out Stair continued talking.  “You see the trailer you’re in?  I got that for free.  Most of the stuff around here was given to me for free.”

            “Well it is a very nice and comfortable accommodation.  I thank you.”

            “I’m glad you like it.  Doesn’t look like much, but it works.”  We walked through the woods toward the Fellowship Hall and Stair point things out to me.  “You see that camper shell on blocks over there?  I lived in that thing for seven years before I married my wife.  Really, seven years.  You can ask Brother Dave.  When he and I came here there was nothing.  The Lord has given me all this.  I don’t know why he gave me the land and all this.  I’m just a lowly preacher.  But then he said he was going to raise me up and make a Prophet out of me, and here I am.  Who would have guessed a man who was once ready to kill himself could be given so much?

            “Don’t be too hard on judging the men here Mark.  They’re good men, and they work hard.  They’ll accept you in time, and they’ll give you the shirt off their backs.  It’s a hard life here, and some of the single men have it very hard.  They work hard to build a Godly place and life.  They do as they’re told and are loyal.  Now they are not captives or slaves.  There’s keys in every car here, so they can leave any time they wish.  I’ve even given them the car and put food in it for those who decide to leave.  But most know that there’s no other place but here.  Where else will they go?  This is their home, and accepting new people into it is difficult.  You’ll prove yourself in time.”

            Stair’s voice was somehow soothing to my troubled mind, and he caused a sense of wanting to belong to well up inside me.  In retrospect though, I see he is a master manipulator at work.  He’s a skilled manipulator, all the way down to the not so cute little name he put on me. 

3

            At fellowship Hall, the people were waiting and watching as I came in with Stair.  I noticed Mrs. Stair and daughter Naome were present as well.  All were assembled in their usual places, Dave at one head of the table, and now Stair sat at the other head.  I took my seat with Doug and his family, knowing I was in for another one of Stair’s best shows.

            Stair was not tied down by a microphone lead or a radio broadcast this time.  It was at this time he let loose with all he has, and it was at this time I had determined that he is shrewd, brilliant, psychotic and narcissistic.  

            “I was talking to Brother Mark here when he first arrived.  I said, ‘I know who you are, you’re a talker.’  He says to me, ‘Gee you sound like you do on the radio.’  And I said, ‘Of course I do.  You got the real thing here boy.’  I told him I was wondering where my Vagabond was. And I went and got you too, didn’t I Mark?  I told him about the trailer we got free and how I lived in that little shell for seven years.  Tell them all Brother Dave.  It’s true?”

            “Oh yes it’s true, you lived in it for seven years,” Dave said.

            “Brother Mark thought he could help out ol’ Ben in Texas.  But I knew from the start it was useless.  They’re all going to hell because they go against the Word of God.  I’ve never listened to one of Ben’s programs.  Don’t have to.  He’s out of his calling.”

            Stair left me alone for a while and got onto many topics and other people’s problems.  He talked history with Dave and some of the other men.  The chat turned into full on Stair style preaching with supporting calls of “Amen” and “Truth” from the group.  Stair was moving all about the room at times, getting in people’s faces, sitting occasionally, and then up again with an unpredictable direction.  The people acted as if they loved it.  It was exciting and mesmerizing as he came up with tid-bits of enlightenment and revelation.  Cutting others down and bolstering himself was a big theme.  He is the “Last Days Prophet of God.”  He “cannot be wrong for if it comes out of this mouth, it comes from God.  If you’re against the Prophet, you’re against God.”

            I looked over at Doug who was glued to Stair and his movements.  Doug’s wife was content to tend to her children.  Doug was taking copious notes on everything Stair said.  On his rounds, this did not escape the attention of Stair.

            “And here we have among us the Scribe.  Are you getting it all down Scribe?”

            Stunned and shaken Doug replied, “I’m just taking it down so I don’t get you wrong when I study.”

            “Awe that’s okay Brother, just don’t misquote me now,” Stair said laughing The others too laughed as Doug replied,

            “I would never do that Prophet Stair.”

            During a point of quiet, I ventured to ask Doug what the funny brown liquid in his cup was, but he pretended not to hear me.

            “Doug,” I whispered.

            “Shhhh.”

            “I‘d like to ask you what that stuff is you are drinking.”

            “Shhhh, it’s coffee, now please I’m paying attention to the Prophet.” Doug was hooked.  His spiritual discernment was totally overcome with awe.  I felt sick.

            Now Stair had to bring his time to a climax, and he figured I was just perfect for the job.  “I am the Last Days Prophet of God.  Now I don’t care if all of you believe that.  But it’s true.  Some of you here may be not convinced.  Take Brother Mark here for example.  He’s been awful quiet.”

            I felt the rush of attention upon me.  I was now stage center.

            “I’ll bet he doesn’t believe I’m a prophet!  Well how about it Brother Mark.  Don’t be afraid....  No wait.  Don’t answer that yet.  You stick around for a few days.  Then I’ll ask you again.”

            What was this?  He stopped just short of my reply.  So I said, “Brother Ralph, I don’t think you would want to put me on the spot in front of all your faithful followers any way would you?”  This was a probing and risky question, but it had to be asked.

            “I would if I was stupid...or crazy maybe.   How about that Brother Mark.  Do you think I’m insane?  Ugh, don’t answer that one either.  You know, if I was crazy, it would show.  Crazy people have no control and act irrationally..  But an insane person... now he can be very cunning and intelligent and appear sane much of the time, but yet... still insane.”  Stair was communicating with me on another level now.  The others were too in awe over this insight and the way his voice intoned as he spoke and his index finger danced in the air.  I on the other hand knew better, and he knew it.  He was aware that I might cause some damage by answering, so he did not press me to do so.

4

            After the afternoon fellowship was ended, Stair and his people left with much fanfare back to the Camp Ground.  The women quickly prepared the serving table for the evening meal while the men loitered outside with Stair until he left.  We again took our seats at the tables inside.  Seeing that there was yet another empty table, and being totally disgusted with Doug’s blind worship to Stair, I chose to opt for the new seat by myself. 

            Dave took his seat at the head of the long table.  The people were waiting for permission from Dave to serve themselves.  Dave decided to give a long speech before then though, recapping some of the points Stair had made, and adding his own philosophy as well.  Finally he asked someone to say the grace and the hungry bunch went for the food.

            The food was very much the same as this morning; homemade breads with real butter, potatoes, some mixed vegetable, and things to drink.  There was also a big pot of sliced beef in a broth.  The food here is very excellent. 

            Being new without someone to show you anything is tough.  Again I made some major blunders due to lack of knowledge.  I could tell Dave was keeping a loose eye on me as I wandered about looking for things.  I was looking for a napkin, which up until now I had not needed.  But there were none to be seen. 

            “What are you looking for Brother Mark?” Dave called out from his seat.. 

            Again all those eyes were upon me.  “A napkin,” I replied. 

            One of the children got up and ran to a drawer where inside are a bunch of five inch square hemmed cloths.  These small pieces of material of various types are the napkins.  They are not only small, but unabsorbent.  I filled my plate lightly and sat down.  A feeling of unworthiness came over me suddenly as I scanned the room looking at the people.  Here I was in their community, under their hospitality, eating their food which they worked to gather, and was I stuffing my face for the third time having not yet lifted a finger in work..  I did go up for seconds when I saw others doing so. 

            Dave too went for a second helping and wound up in line behind me.  I took the big fork in the beef pot and stabbed up myself a few slices, but what came up was two more slices out of the dark pot than I had expected.  My thoughts went wild.  What was I to do?   The meat is already on my plate.  Should I put some back or not?  I got nervous as Dave was quick to respond to what he had observed.

            “Well I should say we’re going to have to work you especially hard this week Brother. “

            “It is a mistake.  I did not mean to take this much.”

            “Sure, that’s okay Brother.  If you feel you need that much, take it.”

            “What would you have me do?  It’s not proper to put it back off my plate.”

            “Like heck it ain’t.  Put some back in the pot boy.” 

            I was truly embarrassed as I put some of the meat back.  As I walked away I heard Dave after me saying, “You’ve got a lot to learn about a community feed.  The food belongs to everyone.”   As well, this display did not escape public scrutiny.

            Well, I braved the scummy bathroom before going to bed tonight.  Thank God I brought a pair of shower shoes.  I must take the long walk to the clean outhouse beside Fellowship Hall next time in spite of the cold and rain.  The one near my room is intolerably filthy. 

            I’ve had a lot to think about today.  Tomorrow I hope there will be some farm work to do.  I pray that God will soon show me some sign that I am really supposed to be here.  That will ease my mind.

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