Weighed down by the past

The WWASP organization had several programs in Montana. Most know is Spring Creek Lodge Academy where a girl committed suicide.

•  239. Spring Creek Lodge (1000 places You don't want to be as a teenager)

The facility has a long history. First Texas, then Montana when the authorities in Texas took interest in the facility. Some years ago they moved to Missouri when Montana look at new legislation which would mean that the place would under supervision from the authorities.

Hello, my name is Jordan Harrell. After reading a lot of the posts on this forum (both about the Anchor Academy and other homes) i decided i would try and share my experiences and what did/has happened and what is happening to me today because of it. I wanna start off to say that i was never a perfect teen. As nobody ever is. I never did drugs, never drank, never experimented with weird things or got into obsessive amounts of trouble. With that being said, here is what i learned.

I was at the Anchor Academy from January of 2003 to June of 2005 when i graduated high school. I will touch on that first and for most. While you do get to accelerate at school if you so choose, there has been one hamper on my life from their school. They use the ACE packets, and as such, they ARE NOT accredited. Some people may not realize what this means, but to me, it means a great deal. I found out after graduation that when i try to apply to A LOT of schools, they require that i have a state accredited diploma. So, because i do not have one of those, i had to get a GED. Not a massive deal, but not one of the more pleasant experiences. A lot of years of high school that didn't really amount to much in the end. I am not saying im some kind of genius, not saying anything like that...just stating the facts from my point of view anyways.

Upon arriving at the Anchor, i had every personal belonging i had ever owned stripped from me. They took my wallet, my pictures, my friends phone numbers, everything. Literally. Not a big deal, but then as a 15 year old kid it seemed a big deal at the time. I was given a hair cut (which i must say was needed) and set up with a guide. Let me get right down to the good stuff. The Anchor had multiple levels of "leadership" and "communication" levels. I will start with leadership.

1. Leadership: The basics of leadership at the anchor were pretty straight forward, its a tier based system, the higher your "rank" the more privileges/responsibilities/"power" you were given. When you first arrive there, you are placed under someone called a "guide" and you are his "student". As a student, here are the basics of your rules to follow as far as the "guide" is concerned. You MUST stay withing 5 feet of your guide at all times, this is a 24/7 policy. If you go outside of the 5 foot radius, you can be given "complaints" (a point system for keeping track of the bad things you do, the more complaints you get, the more trouble you are in.) If he doesn't like what you are saying, your guide is allowed to put you on silence whenever he sees fit. While on silence you are not allowed to talk without raising your hand. If you do, you get more complaints. You MUST follow whatever instructions your guide tells you to. For example. One of my first guides i ever had once told me to go stand over by my bunk. Just so happens, my bunk was more than 5 feet away from him. Upon arriving at my bunk, my guide told me that i was more than 5 feet from him, so i got complaints for it. When i asked why i was getting complaints for doing what i was told, he gave me more complaints for talking without raising my hand (i had been put on silence). After that, he told me to bend over and put my nose on the bunk. In this position, you must keep your legs straight, and bend over to put your nose on something. Try it with a table for instance. After standing in that position for long enough, it will bring tears to even the strongest of people. After getting off orientation (students, which could take anywhere from 3+ months, 3 months was usually the minimum) you were promoted to what was called a "single". As a single, you were put into a crew (will explain a few) and given free roam of the area within certain limitations (which there were plenty of). If you did well as a single, you were promoted to a guide. I wont go further into that since i have already explained. If you continued to do well ( and were an admitted christian might i add...i will go into more of that later too) you were promoted "maybe" to a crew leader. A crew leader had the same basic function as a guide, except he was in charge of 5-8 singles, guides, and students. He had the same authority over every member of his crew, and also every persons in the anchor who were a lower rank than him. He could put a guides nose on something if he so choose, give out complaints as he saw fit (didn't need to be justified, nobody every justified most the complaints). So you can think of him as a "guide" for 5-8 students. I am skipping a lot of the deeper detail, i can go into that later if anyone requests it. There were usually 5-8 crew leaders or more at any give time. Alot of people to watch out for...just on that tier alone. Next you had a dorm leader. Dorm leaders were in charge of the entire dorm, usually 50+ students. They had all the power that crew leaders have, only they had it over crew leaders as well. Pretty self explanatory. After that came the staff, doesn't need much explanation on that one.

2. Communication Levels: There were a total of 6 communication levels. I will start from the bottom. If you did something really bad, you were placed on "super separation". While on super separation, you were not allowed to talk to ANYONE but your crew leader, the dorm leader, and staff. If you did, you got complaints. If you LOOKED (yes i mean looked, like with your eyes) at anyone other than those people, you were given complaints. Alot of complaints too might i add. Do you have any idea how hard it is to not LOOK at someone? I mean you cant even acknowledge their existence. If they talked, you cant respond, if they told a joke, you cant laugh, nothing, without getting complaints. Next in line was "separation". Same basic principles as super separation, only you could talk to all crew leaders, instead of your own. After separation came orientation student. Same basic principle as separation, except you could talk to any "number 1's" that you wanted to, and your guide, regardless of his communication level. Anyone else that you looked at or talked to, you got complaints. Oh and by the way, if you talked to someone you weren't allowed to, you got swats. With a paddle. They had two wooden paddles. One was smaller named smiley, the other was significantly larger named Proverbs. By the way, this goes without saying i would think, but when kids were getting swats with those, you could hear them all the way on the other side of the dorm. After orientation student came a single. Pretty much the same communication levels as a student, just didnt have to follow someone around all the time. After that was a "number 2". They were allowed to talk to everyone who was a level 2 and above. So if you were a level 2, you could talk to all level 2's and all level 1's. If you talked to or looked at anyone not of those ranks, you had the same punishment as the lower ranks. And last was a "number 1". They were allowed to talk to everyone, with the exception of separation/super separation, unless they were a crew leader.

Now, for the punishment section of this page. Please understand, that while i did not have most of these things done to me, i was around it more times than i would have ever have liked, and i was sometimes put in charge of seeing these punishments executed. The one everyone remembers most is probably peanut butter sandwiches and water. If you did something wrong, as far as school or whatever a staff felt was appropriate, they put you on peanut butter. That was nothing but a peanut butter sandwich (TERRIBLE might i add, you had to choke it down, it was not jiffy peanut butter) and water. You could be put on that for as long as the staff so desired. Which could be months. I can name people, names i will remember forever, who were on peanut butter sandwiches for months. I remember one boy was on it for 6 months straight. He started gagging whenever he tried to eat, so whatever he didn't eat ( he was required to eat 2 each meal) they put them in a plastic bag which he carried around until he ate them all. I can remember him having 15+ sandwiches in that bag. It was disgusting to see. Red shirt was another one that everyone feared. For good reason too. I remember one boy who was on redshirt for over 2 months. You only get 1 red shirt, and 1 pair of pants, which you have to wear all day and all night, every night. They get washed once a week, if i remember right. You did pt (physical training) around the clock. You slept for about 3 hours a night. This is where a part of me goes out to every boy who was ever on this. You usually got put on this for running away, although i remember one boy got put on it for cheating in school and just being a little bit more rebellious than they liked. They tied your feat together with rope, and made you carry a broom over your head everywhere you went. You had to hop around. You stood at the end of your bed with your nose up against your bed while everyone else slept, you ran laps a lot, we are talking like 10 miles a day of laps. They made you dig holes with a spoon, while standing up. You had to bend over and dig the hole while keeping a straight leg. I remember that while one boy on redshirt was doing this, the staff members fed his peanut butter sandwiches to the dog in front of his face, so he didn't get to eat that meal. They would make you dig those holes with spoons, fill them back up with your spoon, and then dig a new a hole, over and over. I remember one boy ran away once ( granted he stole a car to get away...makes you wonder why he wanted to get away so bad) and when they caught him, they tied a rope around his waist, and dragged him around like a dog for...what...2 months? There are alot of things i could say about punishments, but i would keep you reading for hours. If you want to know more, please by all means, let me know. I wonder if anyone who reads this from the anchor remembers the foxy five, or "brother willy's" weekend duty. Or his morning PT. I would love to see that.

The work ethic was valuable. I will say that. They taught you how to work. Granted, in today's world it would be considered slave labor, considering you never got payed for it, even though they often did. Have you picked rocks out of a field for 12+ hours in the blistering heat with people riding you about getting it done faster. There were very few breaks, and very little compassion, and zero money. In the 2.5 years i was there, i never saw a dime. Even though generally you worked for at least 4 hours a day, except, wednesday and Sunday (cause of church). I had to dig trenches, tear down buildings, lay piping, build cabinets, mow lawns, sand blast, and every sort of general cleaning you can think of. I am not saying the work experience wasn't valuable, but you never saw a reward for your effort outside of calloused hands and a sense of accomplishment.

The food, so long as you were not on peanut butter, was very good. They certainly did a good job with food. They kept your bellies full, with a wide variety of courses. The lady staff members did a wonderful job cooking.

There were no fences, there were no guards, you were free to run. Only you were 35 miles from the closest town. And if they caught you, which they ALWAYS did, you got put on redshirt. If you didnt die to the elements in the process.

To touch on now a days, the anchor certainly holds a spot in my memory, it always will. Still to this day i have nightmares about going back there, about the things i went through, and the things i saw others go through. I was rarely in alot of trouble there, i tried to steer clear of it, but i was often around others getting into it. I saw things that would make parents cry. Still to this day i feel terribly guilty about not trying to do more. I have this feeling like i should be trying to help those kids, be trying to get them out of there, but i dont know what to do. I could talk for hours about the struggles young men go through while there. Even while writing this there is a pain in my heart that goes out to all those kids who are sent there. Im not saying some of those young men don't need someone to take them by the hand and lead them in the right direction, but i dont think that this boys home goes about it in the right way. Interesting enough, some people will read this and try to say that i am lying, try to say that i dont know what i am talking about. I dare someone to say that to my nightmares, tell it to the hundreds of boys who have gone through there and now have some sort of anxiety problems. "tough love" is only effective when the person its being done to, knows it is out of love, not when they are so terrified to do anything different they conform out of fear.

And on a last note, religious beliefs set aside, the Anchor Academy for Boys DOES force their religion and their beliefs on you. If you do not believe like them, then you will never gain rank, you will never be treated with respect. The staff there only want you to believe as they do. There is no such thing as a Mormon or Catholic there. If you get caught thinking like that, or trying to follow another religion, or trying to speak about what you believe, the punishments are severe. As bad as what i have listed above. Please, for your children, do not force religion down their throat. From personal experience, it will only make things much worse.

Well, i will end it there, i could keep writing for days, very literally, and fill up pages and pages of information, but most people dont want to read it. This is my attempt to tell the world about what happened to me and what i saw. Take it as you will, there it is. Thank you for reading. Sorry for any typo's, i got kinda emotional writing some of this. The pain is still very real, even 5 years after the fact.

Jordan

Source on Fornits: (Link)

This testimony was located on Reddit (link). Hope Ranch aka Star Meadows Academy is closed but the legacy of their strange school uniforms remain forever

I’ve lurked in this subreddit for a long time and made an account to post and share my experience with you guys. I’m almost 40 now and the tldr of it is that it fucked me up.

I was sent to Wilderness Treatment in 1997 when I was 16 years old. Like many of us, I came from an abusive and neglectful family. After I expressed some self destructive and suicidal behaviour, my parents put me into an inpatient treatment facility for 2 weeks. I expect this is where they were given the idea to send me to Wilderness Treatment.

After the inpatient facility, I was sent to Idaho. The school had a bunch of resident kids there but we weren’t allowed to interact. 2 of us lived in a cabin with 2 counselors until we went into the woods for 3 months. This part was actually really nice; my counselors were decent, in it for the right reasons type of people. Once we got back to the house in Idaho, things changed. We were given a 3 day solo, where we were not allowed to leave our camping spot, not allowed to speak to anyone, and given half a day’s ration of food for the whole three days. We had to sleep in the open air, no tents, no heat, and I remember seeing lots of bugs and worms out at night. I was so hungry. It was horrible.

After my solo I was sent further upstate to a place that is now shut down. There were...6 of us? The food was moldy. The house was full of stink bugs and we found maggots living in the mop. We told the counselors, but the mop wasn’t replaced the whole time I was there. We had to do 2 hours of PT every morning and if you opted out, you had to sit on a stump with a 3” diameter for the rest of the day. Phone calls were monitored. They made fun of us and took opportunities to be mean to us and said it was to make us appreciate our parents. I think I spent 6 months there before my parents sent me to a different school.

Hope Ranch. I don’t remember the names of the others but I remember this one. Abusive Christians hiding behind The Bible. They would perform exorcisms on us if we misbehaved. A few of the counselors lived there with their children and they encouraged their kids to be mean to us. It was so demeaning, being berated by an 8 year old. Some girls said they were molested by one of the counselors but I wasn’t. I ended up running away from that place.

My parents took me back in but looking back at it, I wish I had just left.

My relationship with my parents was pretty good for awhile, but I recently had a kid and all of these memories came flooding back, fresh as ever. I am low contact with them and they think it is because I live far away, when in truth I just can’t stand to look at them.

More information

Spring Creek Lodge was operating under the WWASP franchise. A girl committed suicide there during her stay even when the employees were warned about her being potential suicidal. A lawsuit is ongoing. An employee have been arrested for circumstances involving students in a job he got after he left Spring Creek Lodge

Sources

• Jury hearing lawsuit over girl's suicide at Thompson Falls boarding school (The Missoulian)
• Reflections Academy school for girls sued 3 times in 3 months; claims of grooming, abuse (The Missoulian)

 

More information

Spring Creek Lodge was operating under the WWASP franchise. A girl committed suicide there during her stay even when the employees were warned about her being potential suicidal. A lawsuit is ongoing. An employee have been arrested for circumstances involving students in a job he got after he left Spring Creek Lodge

Sources

• Jury hearing lawsuit over girl's suicide at Thompson Falls boarding school (The Missoulian)
• Reflections Academy school for girls sued 3 times in 3 months; claims of grooming, abuse (The Missoulian)

 

This testimony was found on another blog

When the strangers in the car finally told me where we were headed, my whole world stopped. I knew exactly what thye meant when theyb said, Montana. I instantly thought of the worst, my parents friend’s son had already been there about a year, and I hadn’t heard a word from him since he left, he seemed to kind of just vanish off the face of the earth. I quickly rearranged my thoughts and realized this boy, Mason was also an alcoholic, hippie weed smoking violent run away. I never did anything like that. In fact why was I going there anyway?? My parents must be overreacting, do they know what they are doing, I hadn’t been an ideal daughter, but I didn’t do anything to warrant this. I noticed the bag in the trunk my mother must have packed while I was gone, it wasn’t very big just a small weekend duffel bag. I instinctively asked what the shortest amount of time I could be there if I was compliant was. Three weeks is the minimum, three weeks ok a little longer than I had hoped, buit not horrible ill just follow all the rules and get out of this ‘program’ as soon as I came in, ill just say what they want me to say and be back with my boyfriend Jason in no time, this wont be too bad I tried to tell myself. Between my sobs and gasps for breath I asked more questions, can I use their phone? When do I get to talk to my parents? Do I have to wear a uniform? How long will it take to get there? Every single question that came out of my mouth I later learned was answered with a flat out lie. The only thing I believe they did tell me that was true was the mace and handcuffs they had incase I ‘gave them any trouble’

They offered me some chips and normal snack food, during the 12 hour ride, but I was in such shock I couldn’t even consider eating and wanted to talk to them as little as possible, I decided to just try and sleep, maybe in a few hours I will wake up from this dream.

Never had I felt so dependant and untrusted. Child locks on the dorrs, escorts to the restroom, and the first time I could ever remember not having my cell phone with me, I didn’t know how to react. Finally at about 3 or 4 the next morning they announced we had arrived. I was so nervous not knowing at all what to expect, I tried to take it all in but my mind was occupied by my extreme need to urinate. We parked the car and I could hear one of the escorts talking to some woman outside. They were clearly talking about my and I was slightly relieved to hear him say “she was very compliant, no problems at all.” Id started out on the right foot, just play my cards right and ill be out in a matter of weeks.

I recalled my immediate urge to use the ladie’s room, so another lady walked me down the road to a colorful cabin, where I was informed a group of girl just got the privelage of painting it – there were handprints everywhere with names underneath. I didn’t know what to think until I went into the stall , as I was preparing relieve myself I examine this place….. it could hardly be called a restroom, thank good ness there was plumbing that worked most the time, and there was no pressure in the sinks, I didn’t think it appeared too bad until I noticed the feces stains on the floor and walls, and the used tampons in hidden nooks and crannies, I thought I was going to gag so I did my business as quickly as I could and left.

That night really was a blur, some things I remember as though it were yesterday others I couldn’t recall if was paid to. So ill tell you what I do remember. We went inside this trailer on the side of the road which appeared to be some sort of office, that is where we began the first part of my ‘intake’ the strangers and the car I arrived in suddenly disappeared and I was left alone, somewhere in Montana, in the middle of a forest.

I remember getting my picture taken, I refused to smile at the camera and I looked like death after being in the car for so long and so late at night, there were questions that never ended and a few I didn’t understand the purpose of. They stripped me of any money, identification, and jewelry. The staff members constantly talked to each other as though I wasn’t in the room, when in fact I heard every word they said. Despite the circumstances, my naturally optimistic outlook on life tried to bring in some comic relief, whenever I said anything they looked at me as though I had just shot the president, then ignored my comment and continued with their conversations.

It wasn’t much later I was being escorted with a laundry basket full of necessary items my mother had sent with me such as a toothbrush and undergarments. We walked at 3 in the morning to a cabin where I would join the ‘charity family’. There were approximately 6 girl and 6 boy familys in the lower levels (1-3). All with names that describe characteristics we were to be striving to aquire: destiny, innocence, courage, dignity, integrity etc.

Once we arrived at the cabin they showed me my bed, or more like a board with an 2 inch mattress. And went to wake up a another girl on the top bunk, named Randi., she became my ‘intake buddy’ they put me through odd procedures, I didn’t even have to go through when I was at a mental facility a year earlier. I was required to take off all my clothes, and jump up And down to make sure I had nothing hiding in any….cavaties I then took a shower and learned how to make my bed, and was given permission to go to bed…at 3 or 4 in the morning on march 3rd 2005.

It would take an eternity to go into detail of my every day while staying at SCL yet I feel as though it would be hard to fully express my feelings towards this ‘residential facilities’ without it. I’m in a bind and don’t know how to find a solution, ill just begin and say what I can.

I spent countless sleepless nights….due to many different factors. One night we had streakers, often girls acted as though they were at a 7th grade sleepover and ran around our cabin squealing and having pillow fights, we’ve been invaded by ‘support staff’ because they were determined to pull a young girl from off of her top bunk, because she ‘needed to go to intervention’, often I couldn’t sleep because my ‘bunk buddy’ above me was moving and moaning while pleasuring herself in the middle of the night.

These things don’t sound to be pleasant, but by no means are desired. That’s the point. Things that we did to each other weren’t all that bad, the problem is when the staff intervened, for often no particular reason “Tough love” that’s what they called it. Tough, ok I get that part but when does the love come in?

My parents as well as thousands of others have fallen into the trap of a helpless parent at the end of the road, they didn’t know what to do- and I cant blame them. I really was out of control, and they didn’t know how to handle me, yes I was disrespectful to them, myself, and my body. I was 17 and thought I knew everything. I wont try to deny any of it I know how I acted, and I did need help. They thought they were giving me the help I needed, after I finished being so angry I was actually glad to receive their help…the only problem was my parents weren’t giving me what I needed.

These schools, programs, facilities, camps, whatever they call themselves manipulate and lie. Not just to the students, but to our parents, the media, and to themselves. They use many if not all of the same brainwashing techniques as cults do which can take months to reverse the impractical thinking processes.

Maybe it wouldn’t even be so bad if we were forced to go and eventually sent home, but the reality of it is you never go home. Ever since that summer in 2004 I will never be the same. I as well as many others suffer from symptoms of Post traumatic stress disorder, both from the actual program I attended and the sudden ‘kidnapping’ of the strangers that charge my parents thousands of dollars to unexpectedly force me to get into their car with threats of handcuffs and pepper spray if I didn’t comply; then lie to me the whole way there and drop me off somewhere in the middle of the woods.

Its hard to recall the experiences I had while attending Spring Creek Lodge Academy, one of the WWASPS programs in north-west Montana, because I’ve spent so long trying to block out the painful memories of mental abuse. I must say, I did get out lucky. I never was physically hurt by staff, and was able to go home only 4 months after being there, nearly a record compared to my fellow prisoners.

Many people consider it a good thing I was never physically harmed, and I am grateful but I’m not always sure I’d prefer mental abuse, especially when I already had deep emotional problems. The theory was sort of a ‘break you down to build you back up’ idea. I never really understood why I had to be broken to be made whole again instead of just starting from where I was.. But I complied for awhile because I knew it was the only way to get home. I honestly believe some of the staff members there got more joy out of the ‘breaking down’ part than the ‘building up’.

Every day for months I was reminded that I make mistakes but wait…doesn’t everybody? no, just me. Just us the ‘program kids’ we ruined our families lives, we made them go bankrupt paying for our ‘rehabilitation’ we hurt them so badly with the ways we treated them. They used the term ‘accountability’ often….and often in places where it wasn’t appropriate, YOU must be accountable for the guy who raped you, it was your fault for ‘being in that position.’ There was a certain ‘lingo’ or type of jargon to the different camps, they used awkward words different from people in the normal world, I would often write my mom and she would respond asking what half my letter meant, I was beginning to sound like a zombie, a clone, a robot…..exactly what they wanted.

The industry distorts figures saying ”this many percent of all parents are satisfied with their child’s success” sure our parents our satisfied, at these prisons we didn’t get ‘fixed’ the only things we got better at was hiding our unwanted actions. By some sort of miracle I was able to find just about all the girls that were in my ‘family’ up at SCL. And I can only think of one of them who haven’t at least gone back to their old ways (including myself) and most have only gotten worse. I’ve now been out for 2 and a half years and being one of the older girls, I’ve been able to witness myself and my friends grow up. We do learn from our mistakes, it just takes some more time than others. At that point in my life, I wasn’t happy. I did the things I did for various reasons, and my parents knew I had clinical depression. They sent me away hoping they would help to solve my problems the way the mental hospital did years earlier with my problems of self-mutilation, and bulimia. What that hospital did for me in four days, could never compare to the months I spent in Montana.

Many girls were raped, and I understand the need for talking about it, and getting through that emotional problem, but what help will it do to hold her down while a man comes in pretending to rape her while people are screaming in your ear, “you whore! Slut! I cant believe you are just letting him do this to you! You skank!” This kind of ‘therapy’ does not help anyone and has been proven to be harmful. Meanwhile Karlye in the cabin over has just hung herself and you are forbidden with severe consequences to speak her name or anything about her or the incident. If we ignore it do they think her memory will just go away. Well I wont let Karlye or her life be ignored any longer, children are going through this type of abuse everyday and most of America doesn’t even know it exists, I’ve committed to do all I can to stop other youth from going through these traumatizing experiences

+If you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem+

More information

• The school closed in 2009 (source)
• A suicide took place at the school. A lawsuit was filed (source)
• A former employee were later charged with sexual grooming at this later job (source)