Another Body on the General’s Land

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Another Body on the General’s Land

by Carla J. Dechant Behr

In 2010, when my mother was dying, she had my father call me with one final request. Could I get in touch with my brother Chris? I told him I’d try. We determined to skip a step and make our plea directly to the New Mexico governor’s office who in turn directed the local sheriff’s office to get a message to my brother. He was living on the backside of some dried out piece of land in BFE New Mexico with god’s army – General’s Jim and Deborah Green. He refused our request as he had refused many times since the early 80s – you see, god’s army doesn’t believe in acknowledging “flesh” families.

Christopher John Dechant was born in February 16, 1957 to John and Cyrilla Dechant. John and Sallie, as she was known, fell in love at first sight and remained deeply in love until her death in 2010. Fifty-six years produced 10 children – Chris was the second son. He was raised in a large, safe home by two parents who provided for him and siblings who loved him. He spent summer vacations on his grandparent’s farm, went to a private grade school and wore braces to straighten his teeth. In high school, he ran track and wrestled. He attended college and then the Air Force where he rose to the rank of sergeant. He was smart, athletic and a friend to children. He loved music and nature, and he wrote in a journal that he called his “log” after his favorite TV show Star Trek. He was an all American boy.

The Greens got their talons in Chris in Sacramento California in the early 80s. He was sick (mentally and physically) and was under the care of doctors. Being away from home and struggling was the perfect opportunity for the Greens to start bombing him with their love. Chris gave up his wife, his children, his family, his money, his military status and eventually his name. He refused all contact with his family.

My mother went to her grave grieving for the loss of her beloved Chris. She waited until 9 of her 10 children where home in the house where she had diapered and raised them and then she passed quietly away – her husband whispering words of reassurance in her ear.

I’d been following this group and my brother for years (Sacramento, Gridley, Klamath Falls, Berino and Fence Lake). Using local police, I’d try to reach out to him, but each time, under the Greens leadership, he rejected us. Chris would never behaved like this on his own. He would have never rejected me – his baby sister who he affectionately called “Dimples”. He was, most unfortunately, brainwashed.

On the night of February 20, four days after Chris would have turned 59, I had finished preparations for my daughter’s baby shower when I received news that took my feet out from under me – Chris was dead.

I only found out that Chris was dead because of an investigation into another ACTMC member’s death. The body of a 12 year old boy was exhumed on the Green’s land. I went on a search to find out what happened to my brother and through police and autopsy reports, I was able to piece together that he passed almost three years ago on May 18, 2013 of colon cancer that had metastasized to his liver. The autopsy report issued 10 days after his death, read, and “The body is received clad in one shirt, one pair of pants, one sweatshirt and two socks. Accompanying personal effects include a driver’s license.”

Further on in the report, it states, “According to note left by Mr. Evans… [he] chose not to receive standard allopathic treatment for his condition…” At the time of death, Chris weighed 57.4 kilograms – 126.5 lbs. He was a little over 5 foot 9 inches tall.

Now here comes the hard part. Do you know what it would be like to die of cancer without proper palliative care? It is likely as the cancer progressed, Chris became tired. His fatigue would have been more than just physical, it would have been emotional. He might have been cold, which could describe why the autopsy report noted he was wearing a sweat shirt. He obviously lost weight as nausea set in and he was unable to eat. The autopsy notes that Chris’ small bowel contained some partially digested food – perhaps his last effort at life. Finally, when he was no longer able to get out of bed his breathing slowed, his mouth and lips were dry and he may have lost all control of his bladder and bowels.

The pain, without opioids would have been unbearable. He would have been restless and uncomfortable drifting in and out of consciousness. The comforting touch and words of family is crucial during this time as his breathing would have become labored as he struggled to survive. According to the Police Incident Report, John Green who shared a trailer with him spent time with him around 11:30 the night before and Chris was found dead around 5 or 6 the next morning by Deborah. It does not state that John was present with him, only that he had been there the night before. For all we know, he died alone. Deborah stated that Chris may have taken Ibuprofen and vitamins and was not on any prescription medications. He needed opioids! I can only surmise that his death was painful and lonely.

And here’s the worst part – because he is an adult, because the autopsy reads that the manner of death was natural, because the Green’s where smart (or sly) enough to call the local sheriff’s office and report his death and because they probably prompted Chris to write a note saying he chose not to receive treatment – nothing will probably ever come of my brother’s death. So he’s buried there on their god-forsaken unholy, unhinged ground. He has been there for almost three years because Deborah Green falsely told law enforcement that she didn’t know of any family.

As the hour is late and I have already shed more than just a few tears writing about my brother’s death, I can only hope that he has not died in vain. I can only hope that telling this story will somehow in some way make a difference. I have lost my hope of ever seeing my brother alive on this earth. He is gone – buried on the General’s land, and I can only pray that his soul is somewhere safe and quiet in my mother’s arms.

 

Brad’s story

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Brad’s story is told from his grave. He died of black water fever (a severe form of malaria) in Africa on a mission with the Greens. I was there. I was with him when he died. There’s a reason Deborah Green tried to cover herself regarding Brad’s death in her million dollar lie letter that she wrote and then ordered my daughter Rebekah to sign.

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It really didn’t happen that way. No qualified doctor gave Brad a good prognosis, and he wasn’t “strong and healthy” the day before the Greens returned to the US with their son Joshua who was ill with the same parasitic infection.

So Joshua returns to the US, is admitted into an ICU, and Brad remains in Malawi laying on a grass mat on a concrete floor. I’m the one who gets up to care for him when he throws up in the night.

The day before the Greens returned to the USA, they cast Brad’s demons out, “demons of sickness, demons of malaria,” the ones making him so sick, and afterwards they declare him healed. “He’ll be up and back to working tomorrow,” Jim said.

But they never see Brad again. More than twice I say to Steve, “he’s going to die if he doesn’t get help,” but I’m not the one in charge, he is. The day the Greens return to the US, Steve tells Brad to get up, man-up, and be a soldier of God. He instructs Brad to shovel dirt in the warm of the day, with fever, and later shames him for buying a cold soda to hydrate himself (soldiers don’t stop at the store and buy a soda). Steve always cared a lot about the way things looked.

I’m not altogether blaming the Greens or Steve for Brad’s death. Unlike them, I don’t claim to know everything. But it’s quite plausible that had Brad been given the same early intervention as the Green’s son, maybe he’d be alive to tell us about it.

As a retired registered nurse, certified nephrology nurse (RN, CNN) who worked 15 years in ICUs throughout Sacramento, Yolo, and El Dorado counties (CA), caring for septic, multisystem failure, renal failure patients, I can say this: early intervention in an infectious disease as this is key to a hopeful prognosis—nothing at all to do with demons!!!

We made him out to be a hero, a martyr for God’s army, the army that sheds no blood. And by right of Brad, he was a hero. He sacrificed all for the god he believed in, and he never once complained.

But in hind-sight, it’s clear that the Greens don’t care a lot for their own people, their own followers, their soldiers, the very people who support them and make way for their delusions to take flight.

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Sacramento Bee, July, 1987: Mom wants her son’s remains after church camp “martyrdom”

Julie, me and Rachel

Photo-on-4-18-15-at-4.43-PM1Julie, me, and Rachel. Just girls having fun. And get this—Rachel lives 7 blocks down the street from me—we’re neighbors, friends again!

These beautiful ladies gave 20 years of their lives to AMCTC. Twenty years! And you think I have crazy stories—wait until they tell theirs!

Rachel was excommunicated to the shed shortly after I. We went through a lot together. “It was like a nightmare,” she says. But in the end, she wasn’t kicked out on the street like I was. God let her back in. So she gave another 15 years of her life serving Lila and Jim Green’s god, and then one day she breaks, and decides she’s had enough. Finally she leaves for good, and she wakes up.

We were so unaware—all of us. We were naive, dependent, and as Rachel puts it,  “stupid.” But our intentions were never to join some crazy cult. We were seekers looking for purpose in life, for significance, looking for someplace to belong, and for something greater than ourselves to live and to die for.

We thought we were in it for God.

IMG_4820Abe, my daughter Rebekah, Julie, and Rachel. 1987. They’re all out of there now!

“I Escaped a Cult”– Inside the Greens – Nat Geo TV Blogs

—>“I Escaped a Cult”– Inside the Greens – Nat Geo TV Blogs.

Comments on natgeo blog made by two former members, one my oldest son:

April 16, 2012, 4:26

“Dear People, I belonged to the Aggressive Christianity Missions Training Corps for 20 Years.  I left the group in 2004, it’s important for people to understand that this group has done a lot of damage to destroy families and lives that were a big part of their organization. I have one son who I raise in the organization and by the mercies of the Lord he is standing on his own feet, as so am I. But to all those out there that have suffered tremendous pain and hurt mentally and emotionally due to groups such as this, my prayers and heart goes out to you and your families. There is so much more to tell in regards to the ACMTC group, I hope Maura’s story will enlighten the public, it is a chip of the iceberg, hopefully someday the group will come to it’s end.”

Julie

IMG_5335 2me, Abe and Julianna

December 13, 2012, 12:39 am

“I spent almost all of my childhood in this cult, got out when I turned 18. The person who donated his sperm to my mother (Steve AKA Phillip) is still in there. Yeah, they are a bunch of a$$ holes, and they certainly deserve to be dealt with. But what can be done? They continue to spread their hatred, and do their best to take advantage of gullible people, who are “searching”. I’m glad my mother did this show, she’s a strong person, and a great mother. The cult does their best to slander her, but anybody of sound mind can see right through their garbage.”

Nate

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1993/me and Nate shortly after he walked away from ACMTC.

a promise for the future

grandson and his bride

10007435_10204475723633544_6678797969971411301_n Just returned from a beautiful wedding in Snohomish, Washington—that of my oldest grandson (Rebekah’s oldest son) and his gracious bride. Bright couple—alert, passionate about life, happy, motivated to be their best, to give their best.

TRUE LOVE does that. Genuinely loving people motivate others to be and to give their best, and the motivation comes from a longing deep within, not by some outward dominant force. Love never tries to control, it never plots wicked stories with big or little lies, and it never declares “blasphemy” upon those who question or oppose.

My grandson and his bride are a promise to me. A promise of love. May they forever make the world a better place to live. IMG_5708 Ken, Lillian, me, Rebekah, grandson, bride, granddaughter and Mike

My grandson’s mother-in-law gave me this picture, and I just realized that everyone in it, with exception of the bride, were once behind the doors of Free Love Ministries, AKA Aggressive Christianity Missions Training Corps, or ACMTC. I love it when life brings together the people of my past like that, people I cared about then and now, people I somehow still love.

Ken and Lillian were the first to leave, and were thereafter declared by Deborah Green to be  “judged by god.” Mike (about 26 at the time), Ken’s son, remained, and a few years later the Greens arranged for him and Rebekah (then 17) to marry.

Mike and Rebekah, with a toddler and a baby in arms, snuck out of ACMTC late at night on the same night Abe and Marlene snuck out with their children, and neither knew of the other’s plans. Nobody could trust anybody in there with their secrets.

It was wonderful seeing everyone again, and meeting the brides lovely family. Good times with good people.

10712860_971438487750_952890300203235743_n-1It was a happy day.

here Stacy appears “shut-in”

Stacy appears “shut-in” here, lost and intimidated. My daughter Rebekah remembers when she was ordered by the “Generals” to testify against me.  Those within ACMTC dare not question Deborah Green, “God’s prophet.”

Dear Deborah, or Lila

It sickens us to see you control our daughters and sons, our grandchildren, our sisters and brothers, our loved ones. How you rob them of their family, from those who care for and love them the most, unconditionally. 

Your own daughter couldn’t stand you! 

I remember when she ran away the first time, when you and Jim were playing “Brigadier Generals,” and were scheduled to fly to the Philippines, but you missed your flight, because Sarah ran away the morning of.  And when you found her, the following week you flew her to the Philippines, and you made her stay there for 6 months. You were going to teach her a lesson.

Rebekah and Nate were there when she tried to kill herself the first time. When she ingested a bottle of aspirin, or Tylenol.

Like my daughter Rebekah, you married Sarah off to a man >10 years older than she, Mike Brandon, AKA Peter Royce, AKA Peter Green, a top ranking diehard. But that marriage didn’t work, did it? It didn’t keep her put.

I’m glad she’s free of you. I liked Sarah, she was a beautiful, smart girl, obviously troubled. I remember her good heart, and I’m glad she got away before you made it bad. I hope she has some sense of peace now.

What makes you want to inflict such lasting emotional pain?

Rebekah, Abe and Kay, former ACMTC members

Rebekah

a word from Lisa, the 3’rd woman ousted into the shed… .

Today I had a delightful 3 hour phone conversation with Lisa, the third woman to be excommunicated into the shed on ACMTC’s compound in winter of 1987. She was my closest friend in there, and when I was finally kicked out, I think she helped me more than anybody else to understand what I’d come out of. We’d stay up until all hours of the morning talking, brain storming thoughts about what had just happened, and what’s going on behind the doors of ACMTC. We knew it was dark. It was an amazingly time of new awareness for us, and it bonded us forever. I feel so close to this woman I haven’t seen in 25 years.

Lisa holds a master’s degree in education, and she’s created a lovely life for herself where she’s making a big difference in other people’s lives.

Lisa and Abe had just come home from spending two years in the Philippines when Lila Green prophesied judgment on her. They weren’t there when shit first hit the fan, when god’s judgment came into the camp. Below, with Lisa’s permission to publish, is an email she sent me yesterday, before talking with her today for the first time in about 25 years. Such an amazing joy to reconnect with this strong and beautiful woman.

Lila’s systematic and methodical approach to separating mothers from their children and husbands was so vile and sinister, her goal to create individuals with no sense of self, value or a knowing that they were loved by mothers, helped to further her goal of control and blind devotion. I feel so grateful because my daughter was so young and her memories of that time are rooted in our life in the jungle and a world of the natural indigenous way of being. In harmony with all life and respectful of the tribe and community.  It is this experience in the jungle that strengthened and propelled me to leave that shed. I had been living in the natural world for two years, in balance with all creation and within three days my soul knew that what was occurring at the ministry was not of God. I had to escape. Alas my husband who had shared a life of amazing grace and had witnessed miracles with me in the Islands was lost to oppression, fear and unnatural mind control. It was devastating. Today I struggle from time to time with the loss: but I have overcome so many hurdles, racially, professionally, financially, emotionally and spiritually that it is frightening for me to consider revisiting that past. I have dedicated my life to serving marginalized communities of women and children regarding health access, so obviously I am committed to assisting the vulnerable from harmful influences and oppression. I just wish to stay personally safe in the process.”    

                                                                Lisa,  former ACMTC member

 

divorces and name changes in 1987

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I found this in old files today, information gathered in the late 1980’s. Lila (Deborah) prophesied judgment over me in January of ’87. “God’s bringing us into a new dispensation,” she said. “God’s judgment is here, and judgment begins in the house of the Lord.”

So as they were getting rid of me, they were getting rid of other wives, too, wives like me who didn’t measure up for God’s army. We questioned. We put our armour down. We “listened to the devil, to demons, to the voices inside our heads.” We leaned on the side of our own understanding. “Unfaithful women. Backsliders. Whores. Witches!” 

After 3 of us women were ostracized to the shed and given the names of Forsaken, Barren and Despised, the insiders began changing their names, too. Lila became Deborah. Steve became Philip.

They live with no identity trail, no paper trail, no financial trail. They claim to have taken a “vow of poverty.” They deal with cash only. Men with dependents who’ve been coerced by the Greens to “forsake their children for God,” let driver’s licenses expire so they can’t be traced to pay child support.

No paper trail, no financial trail. When they trashed their property in Sacramento and moved to Oregon, a member’s father hid the Green’s personal property under his name. When they fled rural Oregon, unwelcomed by the community there, they purchased  land in remote Fence Lake New Mexico using $500,000 in money orders.

Hiding assets—that’s “how” my California judgment crossed into New Mexico. Statue of limitations is the issue. My N.M. suit has nothing to do with what they did or didn’t do in California, it has to do with them ignoring the judgment, going from state to state hiding assets—in which case the statue of limitaions may be determined null.

twenty years ago today my son walked away from ACMTC

IMG_0197I’m so proud of my son Nate. He’s strong and kind and wonderful and smart and aware and funny and talented and more, of course. Here I am with him in his wood shop. He’s come a long way.

Nate snuck out of ACMTC headquarters late at night, leaving with only the clothes he had on. The escape was planned. My son-in-law at the time, Mike (who years earlier with my daughter Rebekah and their two children also quietly left ACMTC late at night) flew to Gallup N.M., rented a four-wheel drive and drove out to Fence Lake with a State Trooper guiding him. The plan was to pick Nate up at 11PM, so at 11 PM Nate walked out to the roadside, and 15 minutes later Mike showed up. The plan worked.

Today Nate’s one of my shining stars. I absolutely love the integrity of this man who suffered so much as a boy, who was denied love by his father, always put down by him, humiliated by him and the Greens, made to feel “not good enough.”

Upon leaving, good men were drawn to him. Today he has two fathers, so to speak, in his life. First there’s Mark, a downtown Sacramento contractor/developer. Mark saw Nate’s talent and good nature and swooped him up, calling him “his boy,” and later made him his business partner. Together they restored historical homes.

DSC04255-1                                                                     Mark (“Gino”)

When Mark more or less retired, Gary, another good-to-the-bone guy, a world renown wood turner, invited Nate to come make furniture with him in his shop—“our shop,” Gary says, and he gave Nate the keys.

A really sweet thing Gary does is that every time a loved one dies, he buys an old machine in his or her memory, restores it to great condition, puts it in his shop, and then every time he uses it he thinks of him or her. Mark, Gary and Nate are all kind and thoughtful men.

the other excommunicated women

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Actually, Deborah Green excommunicated 3 women within a period of a few months, all three of us crammed within the shed. First there was me. Deborah declared me “judged by god,” and she changed my name to Forsaken (forsaken by god). She handed me an dingy white formless sack dress and a black scarf, and instructed me to wear them at all times “when in the presence of god’s soldiers,” and to “wear them with shame.”

After me came Jacque, later name changed to Rachel. Deborah declared Jackie also judged by god, and changed her name to Barren, and gave her a hospital gown to wear (before ACMTC Jacque was a psychiatric nurse). After five months of shame and humiliation, “god” determined Jackie worthy enough to return to ACMTC’s ranks, and then her name became Rachel.

I’m happy to report that after >20 years of taking crap from the Greens, Rachel found the courage to leave. She said she just couldn’t take it anymore, that things were never going to get better. Today she lives 7 blocks down the street from me. Small world!

Lisa became woman number three. She and her husband and little girl returned from a “missionary trip” in the Philippines shortly after “god’s judgment descended upon the camp.” Three days later Deborah pronounced “god’s judgment” on Lisa, and changed her name to “Dispised.”

After three rainy days of confinement in the shed, damp blankets in the morning from ground water seeping up through the plywood floor, Lisa snapped. Having just returned from the Philippines, away from Deborah Green and ACMTC’s camp for a while, she had access to her own internal voice. She pushed her way into the “citadel” where the Green’s lived, grabbed her daughter, called the police, and fled.

After Lisa fled with daughter, the Greens instructed Jackie and I to move into the basement of barracks #4. My ex (Steve) ordered our 11 year old son Nate to tear the shed down. He tore it down within two days, and then Steve gave Jacque and I hammers and a crow bar, and ordered us to pull out the nails, and to stack the wood in piles.