*NOTE: The following is grouped blog posts consisting of experiences with my parents and others:
Esther LeBaron Spencer,
Me, Pa and the Perils of Polygamy
“No influence is so powerful
as the that of the mother.”
Sarah Josepha Hale
Picking up from “My Memoir Backstory: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — Ma ‘n’ Pa — Part 18:“
As I’ve said before, Mother could not live polygamy herself — at least not during her twenty-two years of marriage with my father. So I really resent she maneuvered and manipulated me into a harem — a life she couldn’t stomach herself. But what’s new?!
Since she and Pa raised me to believe I would go to hell if I didn’t live polygamy (because Joseph Smith said so). Obviously then, they expected their kids to be able to do things they were never able to do themselves. Or they were trying to at least save me/us from going to hell when they couldn’t save themselves. Dream on!
Therefore, though I was barely sixteen, still tied to Mother’s apron strings, and too young to know any better nor have input, Mumsy, along with Pappy’s priestcraft and support, worked her witchcraft that dumped me into William Preston Tucker’s family/ harem – an arranged polygamic marriage — one that would bring glory to Mumsy and Daddy’s name — for Bill Tucker was arguably the biggest catch in town.
To manipulate me, among other things, Mum told me, “I had a revelation last night that showed me plain as day that you are supposed to marry William Preston Tucker.”
Many years later, I discovered her so-called “revelation” was that she (and Dad!) had simply secretly read my private and personal diary wherein I had stated Bill was the man I was in love with.
But, I learned a few years later, at least half the town was in love with this alpha male, William Preston Tucker — Men and women! (To be sure, Mormon polygamy allows for mayhem!)
My parents had convinced me they were perfect … and saints. So it never entered my mind that, while I was away from home dutifully and conscientiously doing the job they got me into, starting at age fourteen — volunteer school teaching for the LeBaron colony/cult — they were regularly reading my hidden diary. Then discussing together my most private secret daily entries and thoughts — things I believed only I knew … personal things only I was supposed to know!
I poured my heart and soul out in my diary. You could say I had “diarrhea/dia-ry’-a” of the mouth. This writing — my therapy — is what kept me alive and sane while in the cult. But I never dreamed it was also what kept my parents, and, later on, other manipulators and enemies able to read my mind and, thus, have power over me and my life.
Since I recorded all my private thoughts and feelings, intruders into my personal diaries (such as my husband and his other wives, later on down the line!) had perfect access to my mental processes, problems, plans, secret feelings about them and others — and you name it! Golly Gee!!
My brain might as well have been opened up for Cons and rivals to covertly listen in on all my most private and personal plans and thoughts so they could take my power. For I used my journals to process, cathart, and “thought fart,” and otherwise wend my way through the LeBaron Mormon polygamist cult mess I had to deal with on a daily basis as a young teen going through the perils of coming of age in a foreign land and fanatic fund-entalist, mind-boggling belief system.
And, wouldn’t you know, my Uncle Ervil LeBaron played his part in manipulating my life, and turning it upside down too. But I’ll take up with that in next week’s Blog.
Esther LeBaron Spencer
And More Perils of Polygamy
“A wise leader inspires and motivates,
rather than intimidating and manipulating.”
*Getting back to my life being hijacked in the name of plural marriage:
As I mentioned in my last blog, Mother’s brother, Ervil M. LeBaron, was in on the manipulation of my love-life. But what’s new?! Whose life wasn’t he in on? (Of course, I didn’t know this, back then.)
As it turns out, Ervil LeBaron had time for everyone’s family but his own. This cunning Con was too busy using and abusing others — all the new converts and you name it — under the highfalutin pretense of being “The Second Grand Head” of God’s only true church on earth.
His maneuvering and manipulating others to his advantage was only outdone by his coercion and priestcraft when it came to pulling the wool over the eyes of the “lambs” and fleecing the newbie true-believing “Church of the Firstborn” sheep.
My Uncle “Evil Ervil” was truly e-Vile — and in his heyday and depth of glory with all those trusting, true-believing followers, “Saints,” and converts suddenly now at his deceptive fingertips once his and his brother’s (self-proclaimed Prophet Joel LeBaron) new “Church” began to take off in the late 1950s.
As it turns out, while my uncle “Evil” was horrendously manipulating my life on one level, unbeknownst to me, my parents (another set of controllers found wanting in the area of integrity) were secretly snooping into my personal belongings, betraying my trust in them, as they managed to find each new place I hid my diary. Through regularly reading my journal entries, they were able to control and manipulate my life!
Reading my diaries behind my back must’ve been the entertainment of the day for my sneaky parents in their collusion to eavesdrop on my private thoughts, by way of my diaries!
I can’t even imagine their “entertainment” when they found, in my diary, that Ervil, Mumma’s younger brother, had secretly bartered me off in marriage (in the name of God, revelation, and building up “His” kingdom) to Homer Babbitt, Mum’s girlhood friend … in exchange for land!!
In my Journal entry of July 15, 1962, I wrote how Ervil told me not to tell my parents about my upcoming marriage to Homer — “So the devil can’t interfere with God’s plans,” said he. I also wrote that I was not at all attracted to Homer Babbitt– that when we kissed to cement our engagement to marry, it felt icky.
Homer’s kiss wasn’t much more than a peck on the lips … thank God. And That was my first kiss ever, too! (Oh dear, and Heaven help us!) Also my first date ever — though hardly a kiss and hardly a date. But no matter how Homer had kissed me, I would’ve gotten no pleasure whatsoever out of it because I had no feelings whatsoever for him.
I don’t recall doing anything else with this extremely shy, introverted, middle-aged stranger — though a third or fourth cousin of mine. Only recall, to cement our coerced marriage vows, Uncle Ervil arranged for a rendezvous wherein Homer Babbitt and I secretly convened in his big black Buick he’d skillfully hidden behind a secluded clump of mesquite bushes toward the outskirts of the little LeBaron scrabble colony.
Situated in the Chihuahuan desert, in 1962, the cult was amply surrounded by cacti, mesquite, and other desert vegetation suitable for hiding things!
Esther LeBaron Spencer, Me,
And More Perils of Polygamy
Nearly all men can stand adversity,
But if you want to test a man’s character,
Give him power.
Me and More Perils of Polygamy
COUSIN HOMER’S KISS
In Cousin Homer’s kiss
There’d be no connubial bliss.
Though my first kiss and first date,
It was barely a kiss and hardly a date.
But”Profit”of Evil Ervil
Prophesied he was my mate
But however Cousin Homer kissed me,
I’d ‘ave missed marital bliss, believe me,
‘Cause in Er-VILE’s wheelings ‘n’ dealings,
Were lacking my amorous feelings
For this pockmarked Mormon Mister.
He could go marry my sister!
My love-sick stomach was reeling.
When it came to a conjugal sealing,
I longed to be kissing Bill Tucker –
Not this pock-marred,
Talk about an upcoming frigid Miss
In a marriage missing marital bliss,
Stuck with a husband she couldn’t kiss
‘Cause her wedlock lacked love and luster,
Thanks to her finagling Uncle Ervil,
The fuckin’ fuck-Buster!
But scheming Er-Vile LeBaron,
Head of Colonia LeBaron,
Further forwarded his meddlin,’
While my present and future peddlin,’
By calling my parents to a meetin’
So I could slip out for a greetin’
With my arranged polygamist spouse
While my parents weren’t about the house
To smell the hidden louse trap
Set behind their trustful back
To make their kid cohabit
With her cousin Homer Babbitt.
“Uncle EVIL’s” corrupt setup –
Our clandestine malevolent meetup
To cement my secret prenup
To homely Homer Babbitt
Sittin’ in his Black Cadillac –
Was set behind a cacti outback,
Us blushing to beat the band
As Homely shyly took my hand
To pledge me in Plyg marriage
To push his baby carriage.
‘Twas my first time out with a guy;
On top of that, I had to lie
While making our prenuptial vows
‘Cause Homer couldn’t my love arouse.
With flushing countenance
‘Neath moonlight intense,
The whole situation making no sense,
We couldn’t hide how uncomfortable we felt
As “Bandit” Babbitt stood, then knelt.
Being alone together that night
Didn’t feel at all right!
Tongue-tied Homer Babbitt,
Shyness his worst habit,
Couldn’t utter a word
In this merger utterly absurd,
Where 16-year-old child me
Was promised to him in BIGAMY –
My ‘Merican-Mexican Cuz
We didn’t know even each other;
He felt at best like a brother.
We’d never met afore,
Far less been together before
This secret sinister rendezvous
Hustled us into,
To put me in Homer’s harem
In exchange for Homer’s land back then.
Before that, damn them,
I’d never heard of Cousin Babbitt man
Till he knocked on my back door back when !
With this I’ll zip my lip
And say no more;
But promise more trivia galore
Continuing in my Memoir:
Me and More Perils of Polygamy
This following video is an excellent depiction of my polygamist upbringing:
Esther LeBaron Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy
“The successful leader
is the one who makes the right move
at the right moment with the right motive.”
*Continuing where we left off in “My Memoir Backstory:
Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer
And More Perils of Polygamy
Heck! Here I am alone in the dark in a car with a middle-aged Mormon stranger in an arranged marriage situation and this was the first time I’d ever been alone with a man! To think it had to be in this bizarre, coerced, traumatic, unnatural setting — not romantic at all, despite the moonlit night. Fortunately and unfortunately, as it turns out, it was to be my first and final meeting with Ervil’s well-meaning but badly misused and abused “amigo,” Homer Babbitt.
When inhibited and bashful Babbitt attempted to make conversation with timid, discombobulated me, out of habit, he and I were so shy the cat got our tongues before we could grab it! So he was barely able to bashfully babble:
“The Prophet Ervil said the Lord revealed to him we are supposed to be married in a couple of days. I’m to give him a piece of land because he got me you for my second wife so I can further build the work of God. So I want to know, do you agree to be my plural wife so I can enter into ‘the principle of celestial marriage’ to better serve God?”
I replied, “I agree to marry you because Uncle Ervil prophesied it was what God wanted me to do to help build up the kingdom of God on earth.”
After that “proposal,” so unmemorable for me was that secret evening rendezvous that all I pretty much recall is he then drove me back to the outskirts of my home and dropped me off where nobody would see nor hear his car coming and going.
I don’t remember anything else about that time with homely Homer, except that I didn’t feel good about it! The whole event was a bummer for me. It left me off-balance and with a feeling of nervous nausea in the pit of my troubled mind and nervous stomach. Some date, right?
I didn’t understand what was coming off nor going on with this marriage Uncle Ervil had suddenly arranged — and all behind my parents’ back, on the spur of the moment, in the dead of day, in the name of God. It made me question whether there could really be a God.
For one thing, it wasn’t at all like I had fantasized — not at all how I had romanticized matrimony and meeting my future husband would be. Instead, I didn’t look forward to being Homer Babbitt’s wife/ plural wife. “Why did God want me to do something that seemed so unnatural,” is what I would have asked myself if I knew enough to ask questions.
Missing was the passion I’d expected there would be as my wedding day approached. I was sad and out of sorts about how it was all coming down. And though I surely wanted to do what God wanted me to do, I surely wished something would happen, too, so this marriage wouldn’t happen … wouldn’t go through.
My Memoir, Part 19-E: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy
“An important question for leaders:
‘Am I building people,
or building my dream
and using people to do it?’ “
I left off in “My Memoir Backstory: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer
And More Perils of Polygamy
The secretly arranged marriage my Uncle Ervil LeBaron had manipulated me into wasn’t at all like I had fantasized marriage would be — not at all how I had romanticized matrimony and the meeting of my future husband would come about. Instead, I didn’t look forward to being Homer Babbit’s wife/ plural wife.
“Why did God want me to do something that seemed so unnatural,” is what I would have asked myself if, at the brainwashed and controlled age of “sweet sixteen,” I’d known enough to ask crucial questions. But there were few respected boundaries, let alone rights, in my cultish upbringing. I was simply to do what I was told and not ask questions. Children were to be seen, not heard. I had been threatened by my father with a beating, at age fifteen, for simply daring to respectfully ask, “Why?”
Notwithstanding, missing was the passion and desire I’d expected there would be as my wedding day approached. I was sad and out of sorts about how it was all coming down. I had been in love before, a number of times, and this wasn’t it! And though I surely wanted to do what God wanted me to do, I sure wished something would happen, too, so this marriage wouldn’t happen … wouldn’t go through!
Ervil was going to have Homer and me marry sans dating and sans me even knowing the guy, let alone being attracted to him! It blows me over, now, to think my unscrupulous uncle would care so little about me and my needs and feelings that he would use priestcraft to manipulate totally naïve, trusting, and special me for his own power and financial gain — would pretend that he stood as God to us people, got revelation for us, and could, therefore, tell me who I was supposed to marry — and without even bringing my parents in on it!
He was using me and the members of his cult as though we were nothing but animals and human pawns in his hands put on earth to fulfill his plans — as though nobody mattered but him. This is evil. And it has left its repercussions reverberating in my life ever since. (More on that later.)
Evil Ervil had everyone duped. But I fail to see why all those who raised him and/or grew up with him and knew him well — his mother, my mother, her brothers, and their friends such as Homer — didn’t see and prevent what Ervil was doing to those in his fold. In other words, by saying or doing nothing, and looking the other way, these adults basically condoned it.
Uncle Ervil knew the most important thing in my sixteen-year-old Mormon fundamentalist female mind at that time was: Who am I supposed to marry and when? And how can I best help build up the kingdom of God? He knew this because this was what I was born and bred on. The woman’s whole purpose in life, in Mormon fundamentalism, was to marry the right man — as revealed to her by revelation — and to serve God or “The Work;” i.e., “The work of God/ Building up God’s kingdom on earth.”
There were already many men in the LeBaron cult who had gone to my father and asked to have permission to marry me. It had been going on for the whole two years since my family moved to the LeBaron colony cult in 1960 when I was only fourteen. Daddy had turned most of them down, using the excuse that I was too young — which, of course, made them dislike my father more than maybe they already did. Or, at least, being refused permission to court or marry me hurt those men’s feelings.
To my LeBaron uncles and Mormon fundamentalist members, thirteen was not too young to be married off as a polygamist’s “wife.” So in Uncle Ervil’s mind, sixteen was the perfect age for a woman to marry; i.e., Get her before she could think for herself! Nor did he care how I felt about it. Again, I was just somebody for this sociopathic/ psychopathic master manipulator to use for his own vain purposes, glorification, and financial gain.
In this video, Producer Rebecca Kimbel, one of my aunts-in-law, is interviewing one of my many first cousins, Donna LeBaron Goldberg, who grew up in Colonia LeBaron where I spent over eight years of my life as a child and young adult.
My Memoir, Part 19-F: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy
“Leadership is not wielding authority –
It’s empowering people.”
I left off in “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer
And More Perils of Polygamy
on the following note:
I Now know my mother’s brother, Ervil LeBaron, was a psychopath and sociopath and, therefore, lacked a conscience. But I wonder if Homer didn’t have a twinge of conscience in secretly pulling this marriage off without my parents knowing it — especially since he had known my mother since childhood.
Yes, didn’t Homer feel at least a little guilt in taking off, behind my parents’ back, with Mother’s then-favorite and best-looking, sexiest daughter? — especially since he had been a companion of Mother and her brothers there in the Mexico-Mormon colonies where they had grown up together!
In my diary, during this high-pressured and off-balance time Uncle Ervil was putting me through by way of his false revelations, I wrote: “I’m not looking forward to marrying Homer … I don’t even know this strange man. He barely arrived in the colony three days ago! I feel very nervous, confused, and “discumbooberated”[discombobulated] over suddenly, out of the blue, being married to him.
“But I am happy and feel so special because God revealed to Uncle Ervil what I’m supposed to do. I had been so longing to know what my mission in life was — who I was supposed to marry, and how I could best serve God — and so longing to get away from home and be on my own!
“Bill Tucker’s the man I’m in love with. But I am going to marry Homer Babbitt because I definitely want to serve God. And Uncle Ervil told me this was how I could best serve “Him” and the building up of “His” Kingdom.”
I see now that I was really only serving Uncle Ervil and “his” kingdom. But I had been taught, back then, that Ervil LeBaron was “like God to the people,” and second in command to Uncle Joel, our main Prophet. So what was a girl to do?!
At this stressful time, I also said in my diary, “Uncle Ervil told me he had a revelation I was supposed to marry Homer. I just wish I could feel in love with the man I’m supposed to marry. And how come I didn’t get this revelation from God too? Why did it only come through my uncle?”
But, at that time, I trusted implicitly my towering 6′ 4″, seemingly magnanimous, articulate, and charismatic uncle! It didn’t enter my mind that he could do any wrong because I was taught he could only do right: He was “a prophet of God.” But now I know he did wrong and was only a “profit” of evil.
Of course, Ervil did not let me know he was simply trading me, one of his nieces, to his friend Homer for some of Homer’s land. I found all that out many years later, as I discovered more and more the freeloading, free-wheeling -“n”- dealing con Ervil was.
From reading peoples’ memoirs, and other such, I discovered I was far from the only one “Evil Ervil” got “special revelation” for. And far from the only one whose marriage and life he’d manipulated and ultimately ruined with his dastardly and devilish deceptions.
It seems he screwed up everyone’s lives and marriages he came in contact with. But everybody I knew trusted him implicitly. Nobody dreamed he was deceiving them by pretending he got revelations from God as to what they were supposed to do when all he was really doing was taking advantage of their trust in him so as to use them.*
*The memoirs of other Ex-LeBaron cult members relate how Ervil manipulated their lives and marriages. See my Menubar for “Media on My Extended Family, Friends, and Fundamentalist Mormon Cults.” There I have listed some memoirs and books about Ervil, such as “Prophet of Blood,” by Ben Bradley and Dale Van Atta.
This following interview with my Aunts Rebecca Kimbel, Susan Ray Shmidt, and others is one of the many great interviews Doris Hanson has posted on YouTube that explain well what my upbringing in the Mormon fundamentalist cults entailed.
My Memoir, Part 19-G:
Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer
And More Perils of Polygamy
“Use power to help people.
For we are given power
not to advance our own purposes
nor to make a great show
in the world, nor a name.
There is but one just use of power
and it is to serve people.”
In “My Memoir Backstory:
Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer
And More Perils of Polygamy
I left off saying:
Nobody knew Ervil was doing and saying the same things to everybody. For example, he would say he “got a revelation” they were supposed to marry so-and-so. Or he got a revelation he, Ervil, was supposed to marry them … or so-and-so’s wife! And so on and so forth. You get the idea.
Yes, Ervil was even getting revelations that he was supposed to marry women who were already married! That is, Ervil said God told him to take women away from their husband and make them one of his own wives!
Meanwhile, I had written in my journal: “Bill Tucker’s the man I’m in love with. But I am going to marry Homer Babbitt because I definitely want to serve God. And Uncle Ervil told me this was how I could best serve ‘Him’ and the building up of ‘His’ Kingdom.”
After my parents read in my diary the above words, and about Ervil and Homer’s collusion to secretly marry me without my parents knowing about it, they secretly contacted William Preston Tucker/ AKA Bill, and made arrangements (behind Ervil’s, Homer’s, and my back!) for Bill to marry me instead — and post haste! More on this in an upcoming blog.
Meanwhile, UncleErvil, “Second Grand Head” of the church/cult had no idea (nor did I) that my parents had quickly hustled me off onto Bill Tucker only after having snuck into my private diary and read that Ervil was about to have me secretly married to Homer! (Wow! All this secrecy, sneaking around, deception, and controlling of people’s life behind their back!!)
I’ve gotten off onto a little bunny trail, and am getting ahead of the story, too, when I say it’s wonderful to be married to the man you’re deeply in love with. But it would have been nicer if that man had returned the respect and feelings — especially would it have been nice if you’re a naïve sixteen-year-old who has no idea what love, marriage, and polygamy is all about. But has lots of idealized fantasies about what she thinks it’s all about — such as how “wonderful” it will be. (LOL!!!)
For example, besides all the crap Mom and Pop had instilled in me* about “how wonderful” polygamy is, I still believed what I’d learned in fairytales: That sex and everything else ended once you were married. Because, once you were married, you simply sailed off into the beautiful sunset and “lived happily ever after!” Well, isn’t that how every fairytale ends: Boy-gets-girl, “Then they live happily ever after”?
Girl, was I in for a shock! For example, I found, after I was married, that not only did I still want my husband’s kisses, but I very much wanted him sexually too. And the desire only grew stronger and stronger, and sex only grew better and better with each lovemaking session. (Believe me, it wouldn’t have been like this had I been married to Homer Babbitt!)
Then I came to realize the other two wives felt the same way about “our”/ their husband, Bill Tucker. Not only that, but I also came to realize they, too, were still having sex with him — and even more so once their husband took me “on”!
The following interview features my Aunt-in-law Rebecca Kimbel and my bright cyberspace friend Kathleen Covington. I’ve posted it as it gives great insight into the Mormon fundamentalist cult and the propaganda I was raised on.
My Memoir, Part 19-H: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer
And More Perils of Polygamy
“History is little more than
the register of the crimes, follies,
and misfortunes of mankind.”
I left off in “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy — Part 19-G” relating how I had come to realize people did not just sail off into the sunny sunset and “live happily ever after” once they were married — the way fairytales end. My Mormon fundamentalist parents and cult had filled me full of such poppycock!
No, I found my/”our” husband, Bill Tucker, was still having sex with his other two wives because they felt the same way about their husband as I: They wanted him just as much as I did — because we were all very much in love with him.
And to add to our sexual pleasure, Bill, though only about 5’7″ tall, was endowed with nearly a ten-inch pecker — when extended to its fullest! (Not hiding when the “pricks” were passed out, he had proudly allowed me to measure his gorgeous member.)
But it took innocent and naïve childbride me around four months before I came to realize I was not the only one still having sex with him — and still really wanting him sexually — even once pregnant. It was such a shock to find sex didn’t end once we were “married happily ever after.”
And even more of a shock was when I found that Bill was still having sex with his pregnant wives — even though it seemed okay for him to still be having sex with me (I was pregnant within two months of being married to him)!
Sex during pregnancy definitely went against the teachings of our church/cult — and against our prophets Joel and Ervil’s teachings. However, I eventually came to learn Bill’s other two wives wanted him sexually, even more so, once their husband “took me on”!
I can’t tell you how this realization affected me, my true-believing faith, and my understanding of “the law of chastity” and “the gospel” that I was raised with and taught extensively, especially by my mother, Esther LeBaron. (The law of chastity was one of the many fanatic fundamentalist gospel teachings she had ingrained in her by her own stoic Mormon parents.)*
She bragged to me, among other things, that she and Daddy had lived the law of chastity during the whole of their twenty-two-year marriage! (The jury is still out on that one. More on that to come!)
Since I was her favorite child before I escaped the church/cult at age twenty-one, she proudly told me,”Beulah, one of the reasons you turned out so special, beautiful, and bright is I conceived you under the protection of the holy white garments and the law of chastity.”(!!!)
This revered Mormon fundamentalist law included that having sex was only to get pregnant. Sex was to be discontinued as soon as you were pregnant. And only participated in while you were fully clothed in your temple garments that covered you from neck to ankle and shoulder to wrist. And NO sex was to be had while you were nursing, either.
You wonder how my horny dad ever held out — especially since masturbation and bestiality, in the teachings of the law of chastity, were also dire sins — as rightly bestiality should be a mortal sin: It is raping animals!! (Or did Dad hold out? I may tell you in my upcoming book.)
But that’s only part of the “law of chastity” the early Mormon prophets taught. To further complicate married life, sex was only for procreation and considered lustful if you enjoyed it. This and more!
Needless to say, “fuck” the law of chastity! My being added to the harem greatly affected the other two wives, Bill, and his and their love life and hunger for more sex more often. There’ll be more on this in my upcoming Memoir/ book. I’ll just tell you now they did not believe in, let alone keep the Mormon fundamentalist principles of “The Law of Chastity”– and that’s not the half of it!
For example, Bill told me that one of his wives (I won’t mention her name now) was most horny and hot WHEN she was pregnant — so that was his favorite time with her in bed!
*The following video productions are excellent overviews and introductions into some of what my life was like growing up and living in Mormon fundamentalist cults.
Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy
“Man, created in God’s image and likeness,
is not just flesh and blood.
The sexual instinct is not all that he has:
Man is also, and preeminently, intelligent and free.
And thanks to these powers, he is and must remain
superior to the rest of creation;
they give him mastery over his physical,
psychological, and affective appetites.”
Pope Paul VI
I left off in the last blog
My Memoir Backstory
Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer
And More Perils of Polygamy
“Fuck The Law of Chastity”! My being added to the harem greatly affected the other two wives and Bill Tucker, too — especially did it affect his and their love life.
More on this in my upcoming Memoir.
But, I’ll just tell you, now, they did not believe in, let alone live the Mormon fundamentalist doctrine of
“The Law of Chastity” — and that’s not the half of it!
Example: Bill told me one of his wives (Won’t mention her name now) was most horny and hot WHEN she was pregnant … so he said that was his favorite time with her in bed. (Like most polygamist men, he was one to kiss and tell. Therefore, that gives me more to tell you, as well, in due time! LOL!)
But, nothing whets the sexual appetite more than your husband getting a new, sexy, nubile, plural wife six to fifteen years younger than you! Bill’s first wife was thirty-one, the second twenty-two years old when I, sweet-sexy-sixteen, was married to their/my husband. That’s another story you’ll read about in my upcoming Memoir.
Presently, I’ll tell you I would not have suffered half as much in my arranged marriage had I been married to Homer Babbitt whom I did not love and was not at all attracted to … so would not have been longing for, sexually, nor otherwise.
I say “arranged marriage” because, Bill, ever a people-pleaser who could not say “no” when under pressure, only married me due to the manipulation and social pressure his buddy Ervil LeBaron put on him to get him to marry me.
But, Bill, always out to collect more prestige and popularity, knew it would be a notch on his belt — as well as on the Mormon-LeBaron blueblood totem pole — were he to marry me. You see, I was “royalty”! I was a niece of “The Second Grand Head,” Ervil LeBaron, and of Joel LeBaron, the Prophet of our “Church.”
On top of that, I was/ am a great-great-granddaughter of the “renowned” Benjamin F. Johnson whom the self-proclaimed Prophet Joseph Smith had sealed to him as a son — and through whom the self-proclaimed “profit” Joel LeBaron claimed his priesthood keys and the “Scepter of Power” — the priesthood power which made Joel “The One Mighty and Strong;” i.e., the Prophet the “Profit” Joseph Smith prophesied was to come in the last days to set the house of God in order. (!) (My uncle Joel set it in order alright, LOL!)
So, against the wishes of his first two plural wives, and though they fought him tooth-‘n’-toenail, Bill added me to his harem — even though it lacked integrity (I learned years later) because, secretly, Bill no longer believed in polygamy and was making plans to leave the LeBaron cult and colony!
Bill, as a Mormon, had always felt a little inferior, when it came to the Mormon prestige totem-pole and pecking-order because he was not part of the blueblood of the Mormon church nor of the Mormon fundamentalist LeBaron “Church” … though he was totally “top notch” in about every other way, they say!
But by marrying me, Bill not only became related to the prophets of our church/cult but also related to the Prophet Joseph Smith, the god of Mormonism! That is, he finally became a part of the Mormon royal blood — just in time to leave Mormonism altogether … four years later!)
*The following video production, produced by my Aunt-in-law Rebecca Kunz Kimbel and featuring her half-sister, my Aunt Irene Kunz LeBaron/ Spencer, is an excellent overview and introduction to what my life was like growing up in and living in the LeBaron colony in Mexico and in Mormon fundamentalist cults, in general.
Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer
And More Perils of Polygamy
p style=”text-align:center;”>“Human history
becomes more and more
a race between education
Taking up where we left off in my last blog,
Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer
And More Perils of Polygamy
p style=”text-align:center;”>My husband William Preston Tucker/ Bill
Had been at the top of his class and hill —
And tops elsewhere, if you will.
But, as a Mormon, Will’d always felt
A little at the bottom, classwise,
‘Cause he couldn’t rise to the top ranks
Of the Mormon priesthood pecking-order.
p style=”text-align:center;”>Why? He wasn’t part of the blueblood
Of the Mormon church nor of the
Mormon fundamentalist LeBaron “Church.”
And there wasn’t much he could do about it,
Though he was “top notch”
In most every other way … they say.
p style=”text-align:center;”>But, by “wisely” marrying me,
Bill instantly became part of “royalty”–
Because he was now not only
Related to Joel and Ervil LeBaron,
The self-appointed prophets of our cult,
But to the Prophet Joseph Smith,
The god of Mormonism —
And plural matrimony!
p style=”text-align:center;”>That is, he finally became part of
The Mormon royal blood —
Just in time to leave Mormonism
For good and forever!
But it wasn’t till years later
Bill finally outed himself —
At least when it came
To announcing he’d left the LeBaron cult
And Mormonism altogether!
p style=”text-align:center;”>In other words, taking me “on,” literally,
As his third wife in “Plurality,”
Placated Bill’s going against his wives’ will —
Their adamant insistence he NOT marry me —
Because it catapulted this social climber
To a higher level still on the
Mormon-blueblood totem pole
Where “ancestor worship,” bloodline,
And who you’re related to
Toward your value and prestige —
If you’re a Mormon.
p style=”text-align:center;”>So “Billy-goat Fucker” got
Some of HIS needs met by marrying me.
But none of mine were met by marrying “He”
And becoming his wife “Number Three.”
p style=”text-align:center;”>So let me give a word of advice
To the innocent Mormon maiden
Whose virginity’s being taken —
Not once but twice —
First through manipulative covert vice;
Second through the-holy-name-of-matrimony lies:
p style=”text-align:center;”>If you have to live polygyny,
To save your soul eternally,
Marry a man you’ll never fall for,
Let alone desire sexually.
p style=”text-align:center;”>This assures he can’t hurt you emotionally.
And you won’t hunger to be with him constantly,
Nor miss him when he’s gone long hours —
A bumblebee sniffing other flowers,
Or bedding and abetting his many wives —
“Them’s” just the facts, guys!
p style=”text-align:center;”>If you’re not in love with “Hubby,”
You won’t go through the pains of polygamy
I suffered the five years I was
Trapped ‘n’ strapped to “BIG Dick-Dicky,”
(Bill Tucker, the fricken-prick fucker)
All the while trying to sort things out —
As a teenage bride on the outs.
p style=”text-align:center;”> I cried and cried, I’ll now confide,
When I found myself in a supposed marriage,
Abandoned, barefoot and pregnant,
But stuck pushing a baby carriage.
Religiously and intensely, I tried
To understand, incessantly,
The ups ‘n’ downs of polygamy,
And what was going on with it and me,
In my arranged concubinage —
And in plural marriage, period!
p style=”text-align:center;”>Over time, I came to realize I,
A horny, idealistic, innocent,
Brainwashed female adolescent,
Was “boiled alive” by my parents
And Ervil’s meddling in my life,
Peddling me off as a present/bride,
At barely sweet-sixteen,
To twenty-six-year-old bigamist Bill
As his third but much younger,
Much less educated,
Much less worldly-wise wife …
And much less wanted!
p style=”text-align:center;”>Thus, I found myself thrust
Into a marriage that was
But a hotbed for heartaches
At Heartbreak Hotel.
However, though filled with grief,
Struggle, strife, and travail,
I was warned by the other wives
To never, EVER my parents tell,
Nor tell anyone else, as well,
About my marriage life —
Its dilemmas, melodramas, lies;
My tremendous trauma and travail.
All was covered up and masked well
By religiosity’s saintly disguise and veil.
p style=”text-align:center;”>To put it succinctly and bluntly,
My arranged polygamic marriage
Had but a modicum of ecstasy
Mixed with pure agony, angst, and hell —
Stuff NO naïve “don’t-ask-don’t-tell,”
Should ever have to suffer or confide —
And all in the name of:
“The Celestial Law of Matrimony;
I.e., Plural Marriage”… or Big-amy.
Ah, well — Oh, HELL!!!
The following Video gives more excellent background on how I was raised as a Mormon fundamentalist Plyg. The photo shows eight of my handsome Uncle Verlan’s ten wives. And features my aunt Irene Kunz LeBaron/ Spencer being interviewed by her half-sister and my half-aunt-in-law, Producer Rebecca Kunz Kimbel.
p style=”text-align:center;”>My Memoir, Part 19-K: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
and More Perils of Polygamy
p style=”text-align:center;”>“True leadership must be
for the benefit of the followers,
not the enrichment of the leaders.”
Warren G. Bennis
Taking up where we left off in “My Memoir Backstory: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy, Part 19-J”:
In a very short time after being married into Bill Tucker’s family/”love nest,” I found I had simply been catapulted out-of-the-frying-pan-into-the-flames. I’d thought I was escaping my hellish home life with my family of origin for a heavenly love life with the man I was deeply in love with, idolized, and adored. It turned out just the opposite:
In fact, over time I came to realize I was nothing but a Mormon fundamentalist sex slave — a concubine in a harem where I wasn’t wanted. And in a cult with no Dr. Phil to fill me in on the whys and wherefores of monogamy, let alone polygamy — though I needed advice, understanding, and help in the biggest way and to the endth degree.
My parents had told me they’d had a revelation Bill was the man I was supposed to be married to for all eternity. And that I would be Bill’s best, most righteous, and favorite wife — and that was only the beginning of the bunk they filled me full of before I married Bill.
And Uncle Ervil, a “prophet,” had also really pushed this marriage — Plus I’d been so indoctrinated with a bunch of other garbage about plural marriage — that, as a teenage bride, I was up to my forehead in shit, but so full of crap, I couldn’t see past it!
But I found a whole different scenario and “crap” once I became Bill’s third “wife.” For the purposes of this short blog, I will simply say: What went on in my new family was done in secrecy. I did not realize, till years later, many significant things, including why my new family forbade me to go home and visit my mother and father, let alone talk about the troubles and travails, problems, loneliness, and grief my marriage brought me, their bereft teenage daughter.
I was not allowed to talk to anyone else such as sisters or friends, either. And forget counselors. Uncle Ervil was my only source for counseling. And some counselor he was!
All he, my narcissistic and calculating, power-pushing uncle told me, when I went to him in torment and travail at age nineteen, was: “Any problems a woman has in her marriage are her fault. If you buckle down, submit to, and serve your husband unquestioningly and fervently — doing everything he tells you to do — this will cure all your marriage problems!!! (As if I wasn’t already a slave to my husband, serving him with all my heart in hopes of winning his heart!)
Now I realize there was good reason for why the second wife told me (paraphrasing): “Bill hates when we go home to visit our parents. And will put any wife aside if he should find she told her parents or ANYONE about ANYTHING going on in our marriage OR Bill’s household!! And remember: Bill is NOT one to forgive transgressions! Once he puts you aside, he will never forgive you nor take you back. He’ll be THROUGH with you!!!”
I sure did not know it then but know now reasons why my new family was adamant I didn’t visit my family-of-origin — especially my parents: They were hiding bisexuality, among other things — even from me! (In the LeBaron cult in the 1960s, homosexuality was a sin punishable by the death penalty — and that’s but the beginning of it.)
The following is one of the many excellent informative interviews you can find on YouTube that reveals many truths about the Mormon fundamentalist cult lifestyle I was raised in.
Here Aunt Rebecca Kunz Kimbel is interviewing her sister, my Aunt Irene Kunz LeBaron/Spencer, formerly a wife of my Uncle Verlan LeBaron, one of my mother’s eight brothers:
p style=”text-align:center;”>My Memoir, Part 19-L: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
More Perils of Polygamy
Two of Bill’s Mormon French-missionary friends, LDS “Saints” “Dick ‘n’ Peter”
p style=”text-align:center;”>“By their friends, ye shall know them.”
Taking up where we left off in “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy, Part 19-K”:
I said in an earlier blog that my being married into Bill’s “family” (or “love nest”?) was out-of-the-frying-pan-into-the-fire: I thought I was escaping my hellish home life with my family of origin for a heavenly love life with the man I was deeply in love with, idolized, and adored. It turned out to be the opposite.
I didn’t know it then; know it now: My new family was adamant I didn’t visit my family — especially my parents — because they were hiding their bisexuality, among other things! (In the LeBaron cult in the 1960s, homosexuality was a sin punishable by the death penalty … for starters.)
I sure didn’t know it during the years I was married to Bill, but I realized years later (as I became older, wiser, and more informed) the reason Bill and his other two wives were so touchy about my having any contact with my parents or family was that around a year before I was married to Bill, my older sister had gone home to visit our parents to tell them that she was just sick because, among other things, she had discovered her husband, “Saint Dick”, was fuckin’ ‘n’ suckin’ “Saint Peter.'” And stickin’ light bulbs and beer bottles up his butt … ‘n’ other such!
She was practically going nuts because she had witnessed it all for herself while looking through a keyhole after hearing noises in the living room way past her bedtime!
More about this in my upcoming book. Suffice it to say, “Peter” had already returned to the United States with his wife by the time my uncle Ervil, et Al, heard from my parents the details my sister had witnessed.
When “Dicky’s” buddy Billy got wind of it by way of his bosom-buddy Ervil LeBaron, Billy betrayed bosom-buddy Ervil, ran to his old Mormon-Missionary pal Dicky and cried:
p style=”text-align:center;”>“Dick, get out of this colony! QUICK!!
Get yer family ‘n’ wife —
And FLEE for your life!!
Leave your belongings behind!
DO make haste!
There’s no time to waste!!
Hit for the US border before daybreak!
Daylight will be too late!
Ervil LeBaron’s rounding up
A Mexican mob at this moment
To tar ‘n’ feather yer dick,
And hang you by yer balls!!
Mexicans in this area don’t tolerate
Homosexuals AT ALL …
Not one LITTLE bit!
Oh, shit! The words out!
They’ve found you out!
So you sure-as-hell better get out!!”
It makes me sick,
But GET, Dick! QUICK!!“
In the Mormon French mission field in the mid to late 1950s, Peter, Dick (pseudonyms), and Bill were close friends. They had all been high-up priesthood leaders in the Mormon French Mission Field for about two years before Bill was ousted and excommunicated from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints because he had begun preaching Mormon fundamentalism to his followers, other French missionaries, and converts.
I think these above details give you a good idea why my new family — Bill’s family — was so careful to keep from me their private love life. And why they thoroughly warned and threatened me that if I were to go home to my parents to tell ANYTHING that was going on in my marriage or Bill’s family, I’d be dumped!
Now, what’s an adolescent girl to do when she’s stumped, but not even allowed to visit her parents and siblings once she’s married into a quagmire — cast from the frying pan into the fire?
The following is one of the many excellent informative interviews you can find on YouTube that reveals truths about the Mormon fundamentalist lifestyle I was raised in.
Here Aunt Rebecca Kimbel is interviewing her sister, my Aunt Irene Kunz LeBaron/Spencer, formerly a wife of my Uncle Verlan LeBaron, one of my mother’s seven brothers.
p style=”text-align:center;”>My Memoir, Part 19-M: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy
p style=”text-align:center;”>“To handle your self, use your head;
to handle others, use your heart.
George Bernard Shaw
Taking up where we left off in“My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy — Part 19-L”:
Bill’s second wife, Lolita, played mouthpiece for “the family” when, not long after I was married to Bill, she warned me to never go home to visit my parents, exclaiming, “Bill doesn’t like his wives going home talking to their parents and family. If he ever finds you’ve told ANYTHING about what’s going on in your marriage or his family, he’ll DUMP you! And that’s that!! That’s the end of your marriage to him!! He’ll put you aside and never take you back!!”
Newly married to Bill, the love of my life, of course, I wanted to be a good wife. So, what’s a shy, naïve, teenage Plyg to do when she’s not allowed to talk to the people who care most about her, her parents and Sibs — those who could give her the best advice and support, once she’s married, but being knifed?!
And since when does a normal husband deny his new adolescent bride/concubine the right to go home now and then to visit her parents and family?? Marriage should not mean the husband owns the wife hook, line, and sinker!
I look at this whole scenario now and think, “WHAT a stinker was Bill!! It’s unbelievable what secluded cults and cult leaders get away with!”
Once I was married into this polygamous mess, I really needed my parent’s advice and help and my sisters’ friendship — the absence of which crippled more than ever the highly disadvantaged child bride I was. And tripled the loneliness I felt. I was married and a wife, but my spouse I was so in love with was usually absent from my life.
Bill’s other two wives were no source of help nor friendship. Instead, they were my rivals — enemies. Dangerously jealous, their resentment and envy of me was only outdone by their working together to undermine me in the eyes of my husband, their friends, and the colony.
One of the main ways they did this, to begin with, was to constantly run down my family. Even in front of me, I would hear them telling Bill their latest bad stories about “the Spencer family.” Making my parents and siblings look like the worst people on earth couldn’t help but cause Bill to think less of me by association. Meanwhile, they built their own families up to high heaven!*
Therefore, I was most uncomfortable around them, and that’s an understatement! I ended up usually alone and lost in my little yellow house on the hill where I spent most of my days waiting for Bill, coping, crying, raising my child on my own … and always longing for my husband and home! (What husband?!)
*Note: After Bill died, there was no need anymore to ruin my reputation in his eyes by, among other things, running down my family. So Harralen and Lolita (pseudonyms for Bill’s other two wives) unbelievably became buddies with my family — the family whose character they had assassinated for the previous 4.5 years !!
Their ploy, now, was to make me look bad in the eyes of my family who already resented me because I had left the cult. By becoming friends with Mother and “Judas,” especially, they could build up their reputation by way of disqualifying me. Thus, people wouldn’t think them so bad for having ostracized me while Bill was alive.
Yes, they pretended to be in with my family — the family they had so defaced the whole four-and-a-half years I was married to Bill! They even told my mother and siblings it was my fault they had thought so badly of my family! Their antics were easy to get away with because I was on the outs with everyone in the cult for having left their religion and escaped their clutches!
p style=”text-align:center;”>My Memoir, Part 19-N: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy
From left to right: My Uncle Ervil M. LeBaron; My father, Floyd Otto Spencer; My mother, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer; and My husband William Preston Tucker/ Bill
p style=”text-align:center;”>Try as he will, no man breaks wholly loose
From his first love, no matter who she be.
Oh, was there ever sailor free to choose,
That didn’t settle somewhere near the sea?
p style=”text-align:center;”>Myself, it don’t excite me nor amuse
To watch a pack o’ shipping on the sea;
But I can understand my neighbor’s views
From certain things which have occurred to me.
Men must keep touch with things they used to use
To earn their living, even when they are free;
And so come back upon the least excuse —
Same as the sailor settled near the sea.
p style=”text-align:center;”>He knows he’s never going on no cruise —
He knows he’s done and finished with the sea;
And yet he likes to feel she’s there to use —
If he should ask her — as she used to be.
p style=”text-align:center;”>Even though she cost him all he had to lose,
Even though she made him sick to hear or see,
Still, what she left of him will mostly choose
Her skirts to sit by. How comes such to be?
p style=”text-align:center;”>Parsons in pulpits, tax-payers in pews,
Kings on your thrones, you know as well as me,
We’ve only one virginity to lose,
And where we lost it there our hearts will be!
I left off saying in “My Memoir: Part 19-M — Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy” that once I was married into Bill’s polygamous household, I really needed my parent’s love, advice, and support. Was so lonely for my family. But I was not allowed to visit them.
This tripled the loneliness I felt as an adolescent newlywed married to a man I was so in love with who was usually not there in my life, and even less often in my bed. When Bill wasn’t with his other two wives, or someone else, he was with Uncle Ervil … or some other man?
Having more than one wife assures a polygamist his wives can’t usually know with whom or where he is when he’s not with them — just one advantage to polygamy — especially if the husband is a rover living a double life — like Bill was.
To make matters worse, it was as though Bill and Ervil were joined at the hip. If they weren’t together writing religious pamphlets, or on a “missionary trip,” or visiting, preaching to cult members and investigators, they found other “urgent” reasons to “get out of Dodge,” dodge the bullets, and be together — all in the name of “doing church business” and “building up the kingdom of God.”
Ervil was like one of Bill’s wives.* As I said, the two were attached at the hips “doing missionary work”* — sharing the same bed when out of town. And remember, these two polygamists were used to having sex at least once every night and possibly during the morning or daytime too, given their many wives (and boyfriends?). So I can only wonder what went on “undercover” when they were suddenly without their habitual sexual partners.
Given the above circumstances, and their belief that masturbation was a mortal sin, imagine how “hard UP” (pun intended) these Mormon fundamentalist “Saints” were for sex during their days and sometimes weeks of being away from home “Doing the Lord’s work” to convert new recruits so as to bring more tithing money into the church coffers — money that mostly ended up in Ervil’s and Bill’s back pockets to support themselves and their humongous families.
- After Bill left Joel and Ervil’s “Church,” Ervil took Dan Jordan “on” as his right-hand man. My Aunt Delfina, Ervil’s first wife, said Dan was Ervil’s “wife” because he spent more time with Dan than with his wives!
*”Doing missionary work” was the common catchphrase and smokescreen that covered up and justified everything in the cult. It made sinners look like saints in the eyes of “true believers.” (But I know, now, to not believe everything I see or am told!)
Excellent expose by renowned speaker and Author of “Combatting Cult Mind Control,” and leader in recognizing brainwashing tactics — and much more!
p style=”text-align:center;”>My Memoir, Part 19-O: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy
p style=”text-align:center;”>“Leaders who win the respect of others
are the ones who deliver more than they promise,
not the ones who promise more than they can deliver.”
Mark A. Clement
Taking up where I left off in my blog “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy — Part 19-N”:
It seems I got off onto a little bunny trail a few blogs back. So it’s high time we backtrack — get back to where Uncle Ervil and my parents were manipulating my love life in the name of polygamy to get me married off to “Billy” — back to where, in July of 1963, my sixteen-year-old-self was in the process of being pawned off in a prearranged marriage to ten-years-my-senior William Preston Tucker (leader of the infamous French missionaries excommunicated from the LDS/ Mormon church around 1958).
Since Uncle Ervil wasn’t able to do anything about his sister/my mom throwing a jackhammer into his plans to trade me to Homer Babbit for land, Ervil manipulated another of his nieces into marrying Babbit in my place.
Yes, smooth-talking Uncle Ervil soon had one of his brother Wesley’s daughters, my red-haired sixteen-year-old cousin Jenny Lou LeBaron married to Homer. Poor Jenny Lou! At the time, she was only visiting the LeBaron colony. But visiting the LeBaron colony was dangerous. She ended up homesteading as forty-three-year-old Babbit’s polygamous bride. Her parents weren’t by her side to protect her from her uncle Ervil’s revelations and manipulations!
My parents “protected” me by betraying me! They had raised me to believe I could trust them impeccably because they were Saints. But they were frauds. For years, they regularly snuck into and read my private diaries, unbeknownst to me that this was going on. Then discussed among themselves my thoughts and business meant for my eyes only. (I found this out only many years after-the-fact.)
Thus, they not only knew every personal thought that went on in my adolescent brain. (No wonder they had become so down on me!) But also, inadvertently, during their daily entertainment, learned of Ervil’s devious plans to marry me to Homer Babbit behind their backs!
That’s how my parents got the bright/”bride” idea to turn around, themselves, and manipulate my love-life and who I was to marry! They boggled Ervil’s plans to barter me to Babbit, by replacing them with their own plans to barter me to Bill.
After all, I had written in my journal, “Bill Tucker is the man I’m really in love with, not Homer!” However, there was a selfish method to my parents’ madness: It brought far more prestige to them to have me married to Bill rather than to Babbit. I don’t know which was worse for me in the end! (I was so in love with Bill but he shattered ‘n’ battered me. Babbit would’ve built me up, appreciated and loved me.)
Since Jenny’s parents weren’t around to snoop into her diaries, Ervil won the second time around. He got Jenny married to Homer in a heartbeat. Then set to work to convince his bosom-buddy Billy to comply with my parents’ wishes that he marry me.
(Ervil had quickly seen how Bill’s marrying me would work for him. For one thing, Homer wouldn’t wonder why I hadn’t ended up marrying him, after all Ervil’s wheelings and dealings with him!)
Excellent expose by renowned speaker Steven Hassan, author of “Combatting Cult Mind Control,” and leader in recognizing brainwashing and mind control techniques.
p style=”text-align:center;”>My Memoir: Part 19-P — Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
More Perils of Polygamy
p style=”text-align:center;”>“As I sifted through my memories,
my life came to me in bits and pieces,
often disconnected, just like my dreams.
Even normal memory has gaps,
but traumatic memory is even more discontinuous.
This is my story, which put me back together.”
Brent W. Jeffs
Continuing where I left off in “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer– And More Perils of Polygamy — Part 19-O”:
As I said previously, my sixteen-year-old first cousin Jenny Lou LeBaron’s parents weren’t around to snoop into her private diaries. So my uncle Ervil LeBaron won the second time around in his efforts to get Homer Babbitt a child bride in exchange for a parcel of his land.
After getting Jenny married to Homer, he set to work to convince his bosom-buddy Billy Tucker to follow through with marrying me — the way my parents wanted him to.
But let’s back up a bit. At first, Ervil (one of Mother’s younger brothers) didn’t know what hit when he found I was suddenly being given away to Billy! Like how was he, Ervil, going to explain to Homer that, despite the revelations he got that I was supposed to marry him, Homer, his sister Esther (my mother) had her own “revelation” I was supposed to marry Billy/William Preston Tucker?
But, Ervil, as usual, wormed out of his having promised me to Homer by coming up with a new revelation for Homer as to whom he was to marry when the first “revelation” fell through.
Nonetheless, “Evil Ervil” was blindsided in his own shenanigans and misuse of power because he had no idea my parents knew about his secret attempt to marry me off to Homer Babbitt! I had no idea my parents knew about it either. I found that out far down the line — after I was already Bill’s concubine.
So, despite Ervil’s efforts to keep “the adversary” (the devil) from finding out about his plans, lo and behold, “the adversary” — in the name of my parents — did find out about the self-proclaimed-profit Ervil’s latest priestcraft! And in a most unexpected way. But Mother, with Daddy’s help, had me convinced it was “through a dream — a revelation” she “came to know” I was supposed to marry Bill Tucker!
As I mentioned in a previous blog, I had not told my parents what Uncle Ervil LeBaron (The Second Grand Head in the Priesthood of the LeBaron cult) was directing me to do, because Uncle Ervil, who practically stood as God to the people, had told me, “God doesn’t want your parents to know till you’re already married to Homer.”
“Let’s keep this a secret between me, you, and Homer,” Uncle Ervil had adamantly whispered to me. “We don’t want “the adversary” to get wind of what’s going on here and try to stop God’s work — God’s desire you marry Homer to help build up His kingdom on earth.” (Replace “God” with “Ervil.”)
*Anna LeBaron, in the following video, is one of my many first cousins, and one of my Uncle Ervil LeBaron’s almost 60 children:
p style=”text-align:center;”>Part 19-Q — Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy
p style=”text-align:center;”>Could This be Bill with his first two wives,
“horny toads” in a menage a trois?
Sex, drugs, ‘n’ “rock ‘n’ roll” — Rock on!
p style=”text-align:center;”>“The truth told with love and consideration is the key.
An honest account of what you experienced
is what memoir is all about.”
Rita Keeley Brown
Continued from: “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy — Part 19-P”
Getting back to my being in the throes of “The First Grand Head” of the cult, my uncle Ervil LeBaron, and his having a jackhammer thrown into his “perfect“ plans to marry me off to his pal, Homer (behind my parents’ back) let me give you a little pertinent backstory:
Mother and her siblings, including Ervil, had grown up with Homer Babbitt in the Mormon colonies in Colonia Juarez, Mexico. Blond-haired, blue-eyed Homer was around Momma’s age; that is, 26 years older than I. Extremely shy, he blushed often, highlighting his already red pockmarked face and neck deeply scarred from acne and boils. Sadly, the name “Homer” (Homely) fit him.
But he was a sweet, sensitive, kind, conscientious, considerate gentleman — with money: Quite rare in my neck of the woods. Barely converted from the LDS church to the LeBaron cult and polygamy, Homer was, in marrying me as his plural wife, trying to please both God and his childhood Mormon pal Ervil.
Even so, as I partly related earlier, my parents got busy post haste to covertly thwart Ervil’s plans to barter me off to Babbitt, by going to Bill, behind my back, and exclaiming, “If you want to marry Beulah, right now is your chance. Tomorrow will be too late!”
But Bill, always the diplomat, countered with, “Beulah is too young. I need to wait a couple more years. I don’t have money to support another wife right now. Can’t even afford to take her on a honeymoon.”
He was REALLY hedging! Mormon fundamentalist Men usually did not take their plural wives on a honeymoon! There was enough trouble in Bedlam (Plyg Town) without them honeymooning each new plural wife. Furthermore, most polygamists couldn’t afford their first wife and her herd of up to possibly twenty-six kids, let alone a honeymoon for each new wife added to the harem.
And new wives meant ultimately even more kids–more expense and time: Each new wife stretched further and further the husband and father from his time and money. In the end, it was mostly the wives and children left to bear the brunt of this hapless, mindless lifestyle.
But true-believing, brainwashed Daddy nevertheless bribed Bill: “How’s about I help you out? I’ll give you some money … more than enough to take my favorite daughter on a honeymoon for a week. How’d that be?“
That money sounded good to penniless-pauper Bill. He had to rely too much on the purse strings of his first wife Harolyn (Her parents sent her money regularly from “The States”) in order to keep his family afloat in the LeBaron colony while he worked to get his chicken business off the ground, including a chicken packing plant for “pollos”/friers.
But wouldn’t you know, it was Ervil finding out about my parents trying to arrange my marriage to Bill that cemented the deal. More on “the deal” in the next blog.
p style=”text-align:center;”>My Memoirs: Part 19-R, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy: My Honeymoon
p style=”text-align:center;”>“We all come from the past,
and children ought to know what it was
that went into their making.”
I had never traveled much past my own backyard, especially once we moved, when I was fourteen, to Chihuahua, Mexico, to join the secluded-wilderness LeBaron cult — “Zion.”
But, at age sixteen, when I was married off to twenty-six-year-old Bill Tucker in an arranged marriage, Daddy gave Bill money to take me to Chihuahua City for a week’s Honeymoon.
I’m so touched Daddy did that — That, though he was not well to do and often mean to me, he cared enough to twist Bill’s arm to take me on a Honeymoon! Daddy gave him the money in an effort to set up a little better deal for me at the start of my marriage because he felt guilty about having pawned me off onto Bill and his harem when Daddy knew Bill was out of work and couldn’t afford to support the two wives and five children he already had!!
Needless to say, Bill felt obligated to take me on a honeymoon. But he didn’t feel obligated to spend any of the money on me. And he didn’t! But, while in Chihuahua City, on our honeymoon, he took ME shopping to spend $ on his first wife Harolyn — money Daddy meant to be spent to help me get started in my new home because Bill said he couldn’t afford me!
Though I needed so many things for my new household, my new husband spent not a penny on me — other than for cheap lodgings for the both of us, restaurant meals he gobbled down, and gas for our automobile trip — a trip that, I realized years later, was mainly a business and pleasure trip for him: He met with boyfriends and with companies he was dealing with to get them to buy his fryers/pollos when they were ready to be beheaded, defeathered, and marketed.
When I married Bill, he and his two wives were in the process of starting a chicken business that would include a chicken-packing plant. Money to get the family business going would be mostly supplied by his first wife Harolyn’s dowery.
I realize now, Bill, having so recently come upon a little money of his own by way of my father, wanted to ingratiate himself with his jealous Harolyn for having taken me on as a third wife against her will, though she was largely financing his family and their upstart chicken business.
But you can imagine how it hurt 16-year-old-child-bride me, who knew nothing about his family, to be left alone for an hour standing on the sidelines of my own Honeymoon watching the man I loved lovingly look for and pick out a costly gift for his first wife’s upcoming thirty-first birthday — while totally ignoring me.
p style=”text-align:center;”> It wasn’t fun!
Welcome to Polygamy 101,
And the “Big Love” idea:
He bought “nada”
Take a hint: Polygamy
Is a big bunch of bull-pucky!
Don’t believe me?
Try it and see.
p style=”text-align:center;”>Part 19-S, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy: My Honeymoon
p style=”text-align:center;”>“And we are put on this earth a little space
that we might learn to bear the beams of love”
― William Blake
I left off in “My Memoir: Part 19-R, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy: My Honeymoon,” saying:
It hurt SO to be left out in the cold on my honeymoon as I stood in the background watching the foreground where the man I just married neglected me, his new wife, to lovingly look for and pick out an extravagant gift for his “old” wife Harolyn’s upcoming 31st birthday. He not only ignored me but bought me “nada.” No fun! Welcome to Polygamy 101.
I later learned jealous Harolyn, about fifteen years my senior, was exceedingly upset Bill married me despite her ardent protests! But he added kerosene to the coals by taking me (once again despite her’s and the second wife’s avid protests) on a Honeymoon to Chihuahua City, a-few-hours drive away.
It must’ve left Bill feeling guilty knowing his first wife Harolyn and his favorite wife Lolita were home alone and horny, grieving his honeymooning and spooning child-bride me.
Was he showing them they were not enough? Or that I was too good a package to pass up? Well, Bill could always pass his actions off onto: “Polygamy –“The Law of Plural Marriage” comes first and foremost — above all else!”
Mormon fundamentalists believe building up the kingdom of God is all that matters. More wives means bringing more little spirits into good Mormon fundamentalist homes to build God’s work and combat Satan’s efforts to overcome Him.
Because Harolyn held and controlled the family purse strings, Bill wanted to make strides with her. So, though it was my honeymoon, he bought her an extravagant present on my time that actually came from his own money — the money Daddy gave him for me!
I was rudely learning that all this was par for the course in polygamous marriages. I wasn’t his only love and consideration nor concern. I had to share him — even on my honeymoon!
But, to top it off, the second day there, without warning, Bill heartlessly left me alone out in the car on the street for five hours with nothing to do!! Not even a radio to listen to — and sans warning that he would be gone anywhere nearly so long — while he “did business and missionary work” (in the missionary position?) with a buddy or two: “I can’t have you at the meeting. These men have met Harolyn. Can’t let them know I have more than one wife,” was his easy way out.
Then, despite his promised seven-day Honeymoon, about five days in, he suddenly told me, again without my having any say in it: “We’re going home now. Need to cut our Honeymoon short. Must get back home to take care of business.” I think he mostly missed and was worried about his other two wives, was bored with me, wasn’t in love with me, and didn’t value freebie-me much. What do you think?
So we returned home within five days of what turned out to be, all-in-all, a stressful, rather uneventful honeymoon — except (brace yourself) lying in the lap of my sexy husband as he steered the vehicle toward home, I had my way with him. We are lucky Bill didn’t lose his way at the wheel as he came — and I lived to tell the story! LOL!
NOTE: If you wonder what Mormon fundamentalist cults believe, how they are brainwashed, and why members don’t often leave — aren’t able to escape these clans — listen to the following YouTube interviews:
p style=”text-align:center;”>Part 19-T, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And More Perils of Polygamy: My Honeymoon
p style=”text-align:center;”>“The sharing of stories broadens our outlook on life. People identify with and draw strength from reading about the struggles of others. Readers can ‘try on’ the life of the character/s in the story and see how they would have felt and reacted without having to suffer through the experience themselves.
They ‘become’ that protagonist, that main character, as they step into his shoes and walk through the difficulties he faces.”
Rita Keeley Brown
Continued from: “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And More Perils of Polygamy: My Honeymoon — Part 19-S”)
I left off in the last blog saying that Bill promised me a seven-day Honeymoon; however, about five days in, he abruptly informed me: “We’re going home now. I need to cut our Honeymoon short. Must get back to take care of business.“
Apparently, having taken care of “business” with his boyfriends in Chihuahua City, there was little enticement to remain away from his two grieving, furious, jealous wives conniving at home as to how to deal with Bill and me. (And deal they did!)
So, while Bill’s old black Cadillac rocked, rattled, ‘n’ rolled as it sped toward Colonia LeBaron, our homestead, I lay in my lover’s lap and “had my way with him” — ever so lucky my husband didn’t lose control of the wheel as he came. Adolescent me, who didn’t drive, couldn’t see how close we “came” to diving over the cliff to Dover-heaven in sexual oblivion!
The car swerved back-and-forth, skidding dangerously a few times. But determined Billy managed to muster all he had to keep his Cad on the road while he exploded into ecstasy! My, what a man — what I cad! The Angels must’ve been watching over us (How embarrassing!) where angels fear to tread. Thereafter, tread marks left on the highway were all that remained to tell the tale of our ecstatic but erratic, “wreckless” ride.
Other than that, it was, for me, a pretty blissful but stressful and uneventful five-day honeymoon with hubby — except for some luscious restaurant meals, visiting Chihuahua City’s Museum of Art and other such — including the Mexican-war-hero Pancho Villa’s museum home and his elderly wife who still lived there. And seeing the hit movie of the day, “El Sid.” Oh, did I mention the mosquitoes buzzing in, out, and all about as we slept, biting me on both eyelids just in time for our Honeymoon photos?
You shall hear, I fear, in my upcoming book, more about Bill’s and my Honeymoon — my initiation “into” Bill’s harem — and he into me. I promise! Can hardly wait to tell you this “herstory-history,” LOL!
p style=”text-align:center;”>Part 19-U — Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And Polygamy On-The-Down-Low
p style=”text-align:center;”>“A memoir is your perception of your experience of
your involvement in a particular situation in your life.
It is not your sister’s, it is not your father’s, or anyone else’s.
There will always be someone who will say,
‘That’s not how I remember it.’ ”
Rita Keeley Brown
Taking up where we left off in“My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And Polygamy On-The-Down-Low, Part 19-T”:
My honeymoon to Chihuahua City, Mexico in October of 1963, when I was 16, was my first trip anywhere in the almost three years since my family had moved to the desolate LeBaron colony of Chihuahua, Mexico in 1960. My Second trip was once again back to Chihuahua City, Mexico. It was April 19, 1965 and I had just turned nineteen years old the day before. It should have been a birthday present. Instead, it happened only because I approached Bill pleading:
“Please! Since Daddy just died and I’m grieving, shouldn’t I be the one to go on this trip with you? You’ve taken the other two wives on lots of trips; yet, have never taken me anywhere except to Guadalajara and on our honeymoon.”
Bill relented. But it was only a one-day-one-night business trip with him and one of his buddies, Bruce Wakeham, who drove us there and back in the cab of his gray pickup truck — the three of us crammed together like sardines, Bill between Bruce and me.
And just because Bill took me on what I thought would be a romantic trip where we might finally do some special bonding, it didn’t mean he had to make love to me that night or even talk to me … or anything else. And he didn’t! He simply tolerated me. Once at the Wakeham’s home, he ignored me and took off with Bruce, leaving me behind with Bruce’s first wife Juna. Tears!!
And that night, when we went to bed, more tears and disappointment; He rolled over and turned his back on me, refusing my attempts to make love. Knowing what I know now about Bill and his buddies, I suspect Bill didn’t do his usual three-minute screw then fall asleep on me, when it was my night to be with him–though he loved how well he fit in me–because he was afraid Bruce would know — even though we were in bed undercover in the dead of night.
Was he afraid Bruce would be jealous? There were no curtains on the bedroom windows if you can believe it! But either way you “peek” at it, I was screwed — screwed over big-time by two-timing big-Plyg Billy! You’ll see more of what I mean in my next blog.
p style=”text-align:center;”>Part 19-V, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And Polygamy On-The-Down-Low
p style=”text-align:center;”>“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories.
If people wanted you to write warmly about them,
they should’ve behaved better.”
“Bird by Bird”
I left off in “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And Polygamy On-The-Down-Low, Part 19-U” remarking that when my husband Bill Tucker and I went to bed, our one night we spent in Chihuahua City, I suffered the usual tears and disappointments of my concubinage with this man I’d experienced since the day I married him at age sixteen — two-and-a-half years earlier.
This time the suffering was because I expected a loving, supportive, special trip, and to be all alone without the other two wives around so that finally Bill might bestow on me some special warmth.
But even when I was alone in bed with him, he didn’t show any love toward me, let alone some sympathy for my father having just died! Instead, he hadn’t given me any attention during the whole twenty-four-hour trip, and now he simply rolled over, turned his back on me, and refused even my attempts to make love.
Was this hot-blooded sex-fiend punishing me for asking to go on a trip with him, though this night would have been another wife’s turn– and his taking me on this trip was causing his other two wives further grief and jealousy…which meant more trouble for him when he got home? But that never mattered when he took his other two wives on trips — even when it was my turn to spend the night with him!
Knowing what I know now about Bill and his buddies, I really suspect Bill — though he loved how well he fit in me — didn’t do his usual three-minute screw, like he always did when it was my night to be with him (which was every third night, if he was in town) then fall asleep on top of me, his stocky, overweight body crushing my petite frame) because he was afraid Bruce would know — even though we were undercover in bed in the dead of night!
But, to repeat what I wrote in the previous blog, maybe Bill was afraid Bruce would be jealous. There were no curtains on the bedroom windows! But either way you “peek,” I was screwed — screwed over big-time by two-timing-gay-Plyg Billy!
Well, I’ll leave you in the dark no more. I truly believe this hot-blooded “Billy” had gone off and gotten it on with Bruce–and maybe with some other “Willy” too. And had thus created special bonding with Bruce, plus had gotten his sexual juices and energies expunged. And was also being careful not to cause jealousy in Bruce which could ruin his and Bruce’s special just-built or just-renewed connection if Bruce should come checking on Billy and catch him on top of me.
I say this based on a trip I managed to go on with Bill to Guadalajara, Mexico around a year later. I was still nineteen then. There I witnessed, in a roundabout way, Billy and his buddy Stephen do this very thing I described above. It took place at Mariachi Square, famous the world over among homosexuals–at least back then–as a gathering place.
p style=”text-align:center;”>Part 19-W, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And Polygamy On-The-Down-Low
William Preston Tucker and Stephen Silver
p style=”text-align:center;”>People don’t see
what they don’t want to see
till they want to see.
Taking up where we left off in, “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And Polygamy On-The-Down-Low, Part 19-V”:
p style=”text-align:center;”>Being still an adolescent — a nineteen-year-old — poorly educated, brainwashed, backward, duped, and dumb, I had no idea what the hell was going on when, while visiting Guadalajara, Mexico, around the early part of 1966, with my then twenty-nine-year-old handsome husband Billy Tucker, I unwittingly witnessed him and his horn-rimmed buddy Stephen Silver making “a connection” — a hit — at the Mariachi Square — famous the world over as a gathering place for homosexuals … I learned years later.
Back then I had believed on-the-down-low Bill’s bull when he told me he and his pal Steve would be out late “doing missionary work.” (In the missionary position?)
Later that night, I didn’t see them in action. I heard them in action — After Bill had left me at Stephen Silver’s home with Stephen’s two wives (one of them my sister) so he could, as he told me, “go back and rescue Stephen from the hotbed of bad influences at Mariachi Square.“
As it so happened, that evening, long after I’d retired, I was awakened by weird midnight noises wafting up to my loft above from the living room below only fifty feet away — strange, odd animal expletives, guttural grunts, groans, and sensuous heavy breathing. How heedless, how hedonistic of Bill and Steve to believe their women were fast asleep or wouldn’t hear. I could swear their “little head” was doing the thinking that night!!
At the time, though, I was “asleep…couldn’t hear” when it came to being in the dark about Bill’s double life. He knew he could count on that. He knew homosexuality was in my blind spot. I didn’t even know the word existed, let alone what it meant — let alone that my own “saintly” Mormon husband and his best buddy — his old French missionary pal — were “one” … including being frauds!
They had spent two years as missionary partners in the Mormon French mission field in the mid to late 1950s, when they were at their sexual prime — around nineteen to twenty-one years old — sharing the same bed or bunk! (Not sure which one was “on top.”)
Now wise, I realize those passionate sounds and other activities I witnessed on that “trip” weren’t “doing missionary work”! And Bill and Stephen had brought home with them at least one of the gay guys they connected with at Mariachi Square that night.
p style=”text-align:center;”>Part 19-X — Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
And Polygamy On-The-Down-Low
p style=”text-align:center;”> Online Chat Notes Denote NPD:
Narcissistic Personality Disorder
Said one woman, “You know, it’s so funny:
I used to think my Ex was the most
kind, loving, good-hearted man I ever met.
I used to think he was such a treasure
and that I didn’t deserve him.
p style=”text-align:center;”>When I found out about narcissism,
and started putting the pieces together,
my brain did an about-face …
I’m now in a better place, thank God!
p style=”text-align:center;”>Now I know that I’m dealing with an NPD ….
So sad though … It makes me weep.
They are masters at trying to make you feel like crap.
However, I figured out how to checkmate these A-holes,
in the future, since I have a knack for
attracting such relationships.”
I left off in the last blog, “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And Polygamy On-The-Down-Low, Part 19-W,” remarking:
Much older and wiser now, I realize the weird things I witnessed on that Guadalajara, Mexico “trip” weren’t doing missionary work: My twenty-nine-year-old Mormon fundamentalist husband William Preston Tucker and his best buddy Stephen Silver had brought home with them at least one gay guy they connected with at Mariachi Square that night.
Believing Bill was a good Mormon saint, my nineteen-year-old innocent and trusting self figured those noises coming from down below were Bill and his buddy trying with all their might to “get it up” … I mean, to put across the Scriptures to someone they had met while at Mariachi Square doing missionary work.
I thought they were working so “HARD” to put across the gospel concepts of Mormon fundamentalism and my uncle Joel’s “Church” — the only true church on earth — that strained noises would somehow escape! BUT That’s exactly what Bill and Steve knew their naïve women would believe. Doing missionary work was ever the cover for everything undercover in the cult.
When Bill came to bed around 3 AM that night, I approached my “HARD”-working husband to make love only to find him oddly drenched with sweat and exhausted! It seemed so strange but I figured it was due to his strenuous efforts to preach the gospel to the “new contact.”
I didn’t question because I didn’t know enough to question. I was so sure Bill was the perfect emblem of virtuousness and virtuosity. That was the image he pretentiously portrayed. Bill was the LeBaron cult’s idol: He could do no wrong … so we thought… and so many of them still think to this day.
What amazes me now is, despite the intense sexual spree Bill had obviously just finished that left him drenched with perspiration, when I approached him to make love (it never entering my mind what he just finished doing), he was still able, though barely, to roll his wasted sopping self on top of me, get it up, penetrate, and go at it again … only to finish within fifteen seconds!
Then my stocky heavy hunk whom I had been waiting and longing for all evening, fell fast asleep on top of me without a word or a kiss, his dead weight crushing my petite five-foot-three frame! More cries, grunts, and groans … but this time they weren’t coming from badass Billy! I was crushed … in more ways than one.
p style=”text-align:center;”>Part 19-Y, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
and Polygamy On The Down-Low
p style=”text-align:center;”>Is God then so ignorant of things,
so unacquainted with the human heart
that He has to find out about a man by testing him?
Of course not. It is in order that a person
may find out about himself.
p style=”text-align:center;”> There are things in a person which are
hidden from the person in whom they are.
And they won’t come out, or be opened up, or discovered,
except through tests and trials and temptations.
p style=”text-align:center;”>If God stops testing,
it means the Master is stopping teaching …
you do not know yourself unless you learn yourself
through trial, temptation, and testing.
St. Augustine of Hippo (430 A.D.)
I left off in “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And Polygamy On The Down-Low, Part 19-X” relating:
When my husband Bill came to bed around 3 AM, our first night in Guadalajara, Mexico, I approached him to make love, having no idea gay Billy and his beaus had barely finished a sexual rendezvous–NO idea such things existed. He liked to keep it that way.
I only knew I was crushed by his quick finish and even quicker falling asleep on top of me. And crushed by the dead weight of his limp body I held in my arms as I struggled to breathe in between sobs and supporting his heavy muscular frame–about the only warmth I had felt from him the whole time there — or since I don’t know where. (So many times I would like to kill him now. Then I remember he’s already dead.)
On my second day in Guadalajara with Bill, after touring some of its beautiful landmarks with Steve as our guide, Bill took me with them to eat at a swazzi French restaurant where apparently one of their handsome Mexican contacts worked as a Waiter.
Daring as ever, when this Waiter came to take our orders, Billy and Stephen spoke with him in French — using an odd pug-nosed accent! (They had learned French in school and while on their Mormon French mission in the late 1950s.)
The nasality amongst the three carried on into their Spanish conversation! I only knew a few words in Spanish. No French. But, as with other weird things I’d witnessed on this trip with these two Homo’s, I never quit wondering why they used that odd nasality. I’d never heard Bill nor Stephen speak like that before nor since…but I was never around them very much either.
Eventually, my wondering about the strange things witnessed on this trip bore fruit. After I escaped the cult, became more educated and experienced, listened, watched, and read for answers–It helped that I had been around the block a few times too–I discovered, among other things, pug-nosed nasal speech was a secret code homosexuals used to connect.
The “connection” with the Waiter worked: That night, while climbing the loft to our bunk, Bill raised his voluminous voice and bellowed–so I would believe I was the guilty party (victimizing the victim):
“I”m not taking you anywhere else with me and Steve! I’m going to punish you for coming on this trip when I didn’t say you could! You just hopped a ride! So, for our next four nights here, you are to stay on your side of the bed. And DON’T touch me!”
Isn’t it odd: While hidden away in the big city where Billy was free to enjoy the homosexual spree, he didn’t want me … couldn’t use me, is more like it. But narcissistic Billy’s punishing me was simply an excuse to save his sexual juices for gay rendezvous!
On the truck trip to and from Guadalajara, when there weren’t any gay guys but Steve to save his sex for, Bill had NO problem responding to my sexual advances — even though one of Stephen’s wives was also riding in the back of the truck with us — whichever one was not sitting up front with Steve while Bill relinquished his envied spot next to Steve to get some sleep so he could take the wheel next.
So, on our way back home to Colonia LeBaron, bisexual Bill’s punishment ended as quickly as it began! If I made the first move, this sex addict was back to responding with falling asleep on me immediately after his three-minute screw, wherein he took advantage of my nubile body and how well he fit — when he thought the other person in the back of the truck was asleep.
I was so in love with Bill, and so bluffed by Bill and my Mormon fundamentalist indoctrination, I took whatever I could get whenever I could get it — which was never enough nor often enough.
My Memoir: Part 19-Z, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And Polygamy On The Down-Low
p style=”text-align:center;”>Women Beware:
Philanderers are Opportunists … Big Pretenders.
They will tell anybody anything they want to hear.
How can you tell if they’re lying? Their lips are moving.
p style=”text-align:center;”>If a person will break a marriage contract,
he or she will break any contract.
p style=”text-align:center;”>A conman gains a woman’s “con”fidence,
then conjures up dishonest and illegal means to trick her:
Womanizers are cons/sociopaths:
Like convicts, they have no respect for The Rule of Law.
And every lady’s man I’ve ever known
has turned out to be a con
and bisexual on the down-low.
But it takes two to tango.
Men can’t do it without a predatorial
or wanton woman’s help.
I left off in the last blog “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer– And Polygamy On The Down-Low, Part 19-Y” stating:
On our way back home to Colonia LeBaron, bisexual Bill’s punishment ended! He returned to taking advantage of how well he fit if I made the first move… and the other person in the back of the truck wouldn’t know.
But how is it I ended up on this trip Bill hadn’t “specifically” said I could go on? Well, I complained to my older sister, Stephen’s plural wife, saying: “Bill still has not given me a definite answer as to whether or not I can go on the trip with him. Each time I ask him, he simply responds, ‘You can probably go. I’ll see.’ And we’re supposed to leave tomorrow!”
She quipped, “Well, the way to handle that is to have your suitcase packed so you can grab it and hop in the back of the truck just as the engine starts up and they’re about to pull out. I’ll be in the back of the truck to help you. Bill will be up in the cab with Stephen so you’ll be well on your way to Guadalajara and my house before Bill knows you’ve made up his mind for him!
“I’ll let you know what time they plan to leave in the morning. We’ll sure teach Bill to give you a definite answer in the future so you’ll know whether or not to get a babysitter and be packed and ready to go!”
As it turned out, I had my suitcase packed and was at the truck when Bill came to get in. Being concerned about how he looked to others and unable to handle controversy, Bill put out his hand and graciously helped me get on the truck along with my luggage! So he inadvertently gave me permission to go. His saying he didn’t simply showed lack of integrity and blaming me for his own doing’s.
Day after day, as the time for Bill’s trip to Guadalajara had approached, he had left me up in the air … dangling. Didn’t bother to let me off the hook. Kept pretending he was going to take me with him when he really had no intentions (I now realize) of being with anyone but Stephen and the gay sex life in Guadalajara.
Stephen, who had been living and working there for a while, had so raved about life in that city. But he had me believing he was raving about Guadalajara. Apparently, he never let on to anyone but Bill it was the gay life there he was raving about!
Oddly enough, Bill was not taking either of his other two wives on this five-day trip. And it was definitely my turn, long since, to go somewhere with him! But as usual, once on the trip, Bill made sure I wouldn’t much enjoy it and wouldn’t be able to develop any intimacy with him.
Now I realize whenever he did not take one of his wives with him, it was because he wanted to be with a boyfriend — or alone in the dark fucking “bushes” in the park.
Bill didn’t want to be with me, as young, beautiful, and sexy as others said I was. “You are a ten on the ‘Richter’ scale,” said my brother-in-law Sigfried Widmar. “Any man would be proud to walk with you on his arm.” And almost every Plyg in town wanted to.
But Bill did not need nor love me. I realize now, unless he could use women to his advantage, they were not his preference. He was a Big Pretender, a charmer, a womanizer who said one thing, did another — an Opportunist who would tell a person anything they wanted to hear — such as I realize now, “I love you.” How could you tell if he was lying? His lips were moving.
But Bill was further put off by me because I didn’t “bite”– didn’t respond when his lesbian wives tried to bring me into “the family,” at Bill’s behest. I was totally naïve and unaware of what the advances of his wives meant. Didn’t know lesbianism existed. And even if I had ever been told about it by such as my parents, they would have told me it was a terrible sin. So it was nothing I would ever have wanted to be involved in — if ONLY because I was not sexually attracted to women.
The whole five years I was with Bill, I didn’t know such things as menages a trois existed, either — far less that some families in Mormon Fundamentalism participated in threesomes and group sex behind closed doors. I mean very closed. Because it was very against our religion!
Continued in “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And Polygamy On The Down-Low, Part 20-A