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FADE IN:

EXT. DRIVEWAY PATHWAY FAMILY CENTER, OHIO EVENING

ANGLE ON:

EXT. DRIVEWAY PATHWAY FAMILY CENTER, OHIO EVENING

POV PROTESTER NUMBER ONE FEMALE

We see a gold-like colored compact 4 door sedan car coming up the driveway towards Branch Hill- Guinea Pike. An Adult person is driving the passenger vehicle with three minors in the back seat. Three children are seen in the back seat of the car writing in confession journals, noticing one boy on the back left side writing something furiously.
CUT TO:

EXT. ACROSS THE DRIVEWAY PATHWAY FAMILY CENTER, OHIO EVENING

ANGLE ON:

POV PROTESTER NUMBER TWO FEMALE

She is facing inward looking down the driveway, and watches a car PULL UP the driveway towards her and Branch Hill- Guinea Pike. The car is a metallic gold in color. In the back of the car she notices a boy with sandy blonde hair on the left hand side in the back seat wiggling about and turns around quickly.

I had no idea!

I had a friend that lived close by the rebekah school/roloff compound and we never knew what went on in there. We had always joked that it was an insane asylum (no offence) but today driving by the place its just an abandoned looking prison. My friends older brother told us once about a guy that had escaped, he was in front of his house and saw someone running. He yelled out to the guy and he just stopped. He asked if he was ok, the guy was cut up pretty bad. My friends brother knew right then that he was escaping, I beleieve he said it was 1983 or 84. He said he genuienly felt sorry for the guy, gave him some water and smokes. He said the guy was blank,

“Please, never let them find me. They will lock me up!”

Jay didnt know what to do. It was 4 miles to town and the chilling voice the guy had he didnt want to take him back. The guy didnt know how to get ahold of his parents. He told Jay about when they made him run barefoot through brush as punishment. Jay gave the guy a change of clothes, a shower to wash in and some cash. Jay was obviously touched, trying to pursuade the guy to goto the police. The guy had said that his parents sent him there because he got busted for pot and a DUI. Jay gave the guy a ride the next morning to the bus station were the guy got on a bus to dallas where his parents were at. I sincerely hope that he got to his parents.

Today that place is a ghost town, you will see people over there but maybe 2 or 3 cars and the gate is wide open. The place scared me, I am 23 now and am glad to have never experienced such a place. I was doing a search on the internet and this forum was one of the first sites. Obviously, there is more bad stories about roloff homes than good stories.

Rumor does have it, that they will reopen soon though…

Children’s Psychiatric Hospital (Covington, KY)

I just cannot believe I haven’t found people raising hell about this place.

I was there in 1990 around the time I turned 17, and almost all the complaints I’ve seen about “hospitals” in the “New Info” forum also went on at CPH. This place is still around under the name NorthKey.

They did use a 4-point (possibly 5-point) restraint device called a “boat” quite frequently. When a kid got put in the “boat”, the staff would show it to us on a monitor screen to make an example out of them and warn us of what was in store for us if we didn’t “behave.”

We were also deprived of food and sleep.

On about my second day there, they took me into the examining room and placed a needle in my arm, telling me it was for a “test.” But after about a minute, I passed out. I woke up with severe diarrhea. Obviously they were drugging me with something and lying about it. Liars they are.

The full name of it was Children’s Psychiatric Hospital of Northern Kentucky. It was in the city of Covington, near the border with the suburb of Fort Wright, on Farrell Drive.

On the Internet, I read that it was run by a for-profit corporation. I don’t know if it’s officially for-profit, but they committed insurance fraud to keep me locked up.

I believe I was there from May 8 to September 18 of 1990. I turned 17 while I was there.

If they want to sue me for exposing them, I should be the one suing those liars for false imprisonment and more.

First day I was there, I got pummeled by the guards for not going to bed on time.

For the record, I ended up in CPH because I got expelled from a Catholic high school, and the school threatened to file truancy charges if I didn’t enter CPH.

How is getting expelled from a private school a symptom of a psychiatric disorder? It isn’t. People get expelled all the time who are as sane as can be.

CEDU was a prison

Cedu was a prison:

The place was a prison, quite literally. There was no liberty to speak, read, listen to, sing, or talk about – or think about – most topics of natural interest and importance to teens in an school setting. There was no liberty of movement. There was only the small illusion of liberty, in the tiny spaces where it could be stolen –

* Smushing stood in for age-appropriate intimacy, and dating (it also stood in for sex, for the true pedophiles on staff, who cuddled gleefully with the teens)

* Raps stood in for appropriate therapy – but it was a psychotic, highly destructive, invasive and self-annihilating form of public torture and, frankly, mind-control (Raps actually were the center, the vortex of the Cedu control process, that created both the intense fear, and the massive, undirected cathartic release – adn then build-up to the next, the next, the next – Raps were, entirely, discipline, and control of the student population).

* Propheets stood for *magic*. Magic cedu growth and development. They took the place of actual, normative, age-appropriate academic and personal growth and achievement. They were charades of misappropriated cultural detritus, mixed and matched with more raps, more shame, humiliation, control, abuse, and maybe (maybe not) catharsis. They were supposed to be *magic* and took the place of actual achievement.

But strip away these very hollow pillars, and what is Cedu?

It was a prison, where students did physical labor all the time, day and night. This redirects the Cedu schools into a different category – GULags, work-camps, prisoner-of-war camps.

Could you leave? Is it appropriate then to use the term “prisoner?” I think it’s absolutely correct. What was the punishment for leaving? A week in the box, like in the ‘great escape?” More or less. More, very often.

But, add the Cedu *magic*, the runny dribbly nosed squealing and screaming, crying and puking, and suddenly it’s.. “all the love in the room.”

“All the love in the room.” That’s a phrase used so often at the place. “Can you feel all the love in the room?”

Holy Shit! We were suckered, sucked in, because… because… because we were teens, with little to no understanding of law, of civil rights, and most or many of us came from places that had already accustomed us to some real abuse. I speak personally here, and say it was so for me.


REBELLION.

Why was rebellion at Cedu so hard to achieve? It is my remaining Cedu dream, or nightmare, that I am there, fully aware of who I am and what Cedu is, and that I cannot, cannot, cannot raise the students, or several students, to leave, to protest, to strike back against the brutality – to temporarily incapacitate a more abusive staff member, and then to call media, television, authorities, and pull attention to the place, and the practices of the mad-hatter staff.

That is the nightmare – that I cannot find a quiet moment, a secret moment, with any student, to tell them (whispering) “this is a cult”.

“What?”

“This is a CULT. This is not right. We are being abused. We must get enough of us together to refuse to participate, to liberate the phone, to call out to law enforcement, to civil services, to KTLA NEWS, for Christ’s sake.”

Can you imagine the look of sheet-white translucent fear and confusion on the face of a programmed Cedu student, when hearing these words from a peer?

“I have to go COP-OUT!!!”

That’s the expected response.

WWASP Experiences

The place was a shithole, I never knew what “scabies” was till i went there. I was blessed to never get that nasty shit, but i was one of few. I remember they ran out of toilet paper there for like 2 weeks, it was a bit interesting to say the least. Restaining kids was beating them in my eyes, it was more than unneeded force, Although I remember I had this one kid who was in Diligence family… kid was 17 and was one of those kids who had large family breeding on his side. He was a monster, and not meaning fat, meaning 6’4 240 lbs and in the best shape I could imagine. It tooke Luke and Jade to restrain this kid. Jade-Admin./ ex golden glove boxer, great shape for his age, and Luke-Admin. also in really good shape, both of them were monsters compared to 99% of the kids. This kid though gave them a run for their money, at seventeen. I had respect for him.

As for details, and crediting what people say… i have read around the site somewhat, its all true pretty much. Room Restriction, or R&R as we called it, was rediculous. Laying a kid on his stomach, with his legs and hands behins his back, while his chin had to lay on concrete floor for 90 % of the waking day. That was sad, then if you got restrained while you were in that position, restrained, meaning forearm to the back of your head and neck, while a oversized wieght lifting dick, puts his knee along with all his wieght into your spine. At 14, and 150 lbs its a bit scary. I got mal nutrition while I was down there. I was 16, 6’0 and 147 lbs it was gross. I was way to skinny, being a fat kid before I went there I never knew that could be a problem, hahah. But that wait was soon lost and and ribs were soon to show.

Things I have to give the program credit for, believe me very few things. The Spanish thing was a fucking pain in the ass when you first get there. Who in their right mind thinks they can take an American with no knowledge of the Spanish Language whatsoever, and give him three days to learn what he needs to? But because of that, it creates a sense of urgency to learn it so you can communicate with your friends, and the staff. I learned the whole language in like six months, read, write, and speak. I still speak it to the day, which is a good thing. One thing I had a problem with was not being able to speak English, it was very rare where we could do that. We learned their language, we spoke, shouldn’t we be able to speak both?

I fucking hated how they hung that fucking hell high impact over our heads. Bunch of fucking fascists using fear to control us. I lived my first 9 of my 18 months there petrified of a place that I had only heard about. I was never a big trouble maker, Jade taught me not to cause trouble my first day, when I mouthed off to him. But holding something over someone and scare them with it, to get them to do what you want, is fucking wrong. I learned how to understand and manipulate a system down there flawlessly. I learned how to talk my way out of anything, which is good in some ways, being that after the military I want to be a lawyer, or a lobyist.

All in all, I dont blame my parents for sending me there, they thought it was right for a angry 14 year old kid with bad grades, and beginning to smoke pot. I get that, but what i dont forgive pops for is, once I told him what the place was really like, he didn’t listen, figuered I was exagerating or making it all up. My mom knew there was no bullshit in what I was saying, and was the one who got me out of there. What I say now, parents I think have a responsibility to work it out with their children. Not send them off for someone else to do the job. I wouldnt say the place haunts me today, life has moved on, and its in the past. But when I first got out, culture shock, difficulty adjusting, nightmares, were a daily routine. I didnt know how to act, I had been so good at being fake, and appearing as the standard mold for the program that I wasn’t to sure about who I was. My friends noticed it, but I eventually came around.

Also I thought since I had a year and a half of high school taken away from me, I had a need to make up for it. I was worse after the program then before. I never ended up in jail, or anything like that, but I did drugs, got in fights, and made “non-working” decisions as those creeps used to say. I found myself and grew up in time. I just had to do it and learn on my own, I couldnt be molded into it.

 

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