Shortly after five o’clock that Friday morning, I was awakened by a disturbing call from the police telling me to gather my things immediately. Trying not to be terrified, I questioned the officer, who informed me that that morning an article had been published in Utah’s Deseret News with the headline “Ex-FLDS Woman Cause of Raid,” with the subtitle:
Testimony offered by a Texas child protection supervisor revealed Thursday that a woman at the center of the Warren Jeffs trial was instrumental in persuading law enforcement to raid the YFZ Ranch.
Both the headline and article were wildly misleading; the article also mentioned my involvement in Warren’s Utah trial, saying that my testimony helped convict him. While the News was requested to change the article and title for accuracy, papers had already been delivered, and law enforcement took no chances. For the next two days, I stayed at a duplex at the remote Our Lady of Grace. It was hoped no one would think to look for me there.
That day, Doran revealed that a woman named Rozita Swinton in Colorado Springs had been linked to the phone calls and that “Sarah Barlow” might have been a hoax! When I asked how she could possibly have that much working knowledge of FLDS lingo, Doran voiced Texas’s suspicions: Rozita may have gathered information from a former FLDS member who was residing at the same rehab facility as she was.
While I was relieved that there was no young lady named Sarah being held against her will and beaten on that ranch, these calls had caused tremendous damage to many people’s lives. And from this, the media was calling into question the entire investigation, raid, and removal of children and evidence.
When I talked to Brooks about it, he shook his head.
“Becky, I’ll tell you one thing. I’ve been here more than once. We’ll either be labeled as Texas’s greatest heroes, or shit on a stick. What people think of us can’t matter. We have to do our jobs—we must protect the people.” He took off his hat and looked right at me. “Let’s say I get a call about a marijuana house, and I get a search warrant to search for marijuana. Only thing is, I go in that house and I don’t find a speck of marijuana… but I do find cocaine and methamphetamines and speed and LSD. I’m not going to turn around and leave just because I haven’t found any marijuana. I’m going to do my job, seize evidence of crimes, and arrest the individuals committing those crimes.”
I didn’t know much about the law, but that made perfect sense to me. In reports that would become public a few days later, Texas authorities would disclose that 25 mothers on the YFZ ranch were under eighteen years old. Of the 53 girls aged fourteen to seventeen, 31 of them had birthed a child or were pregnant at the time of the raid.
Judge Walther heard twenty-one hours of testimony before ordering all children to remain in protective custody. She ordered children and adults to undergo DNA testing to prove family relationships. She then ordered that children be given individual hearings to determine their return home or placement in foster care. Officials tried to keep siblings together and to respect the beliefs of the FLDS, although that was hard with the number of siblings some families had. I felt the judge was acting fairly in trying to do what was best for the children.
Wrapping up the last of my CPS reports that night, I sighed. There was still so much to be done, but I had bills, a family, and a home to get back to.
I boarded a flight to Idaho, eager to see my children and anxious to see Ben, too. I hoped that somehow we could mend our rapidly deteriorating relationship.
One afternoon back in Idaho I rushed home, kids in tow, cell phone pinned to my ear. I’d had more than fifteen calls from Texas that day, beginning at six a.m., and I was still on one last call as I walked into the house. Ranger Nick Hanna called me often to verify information and photos. From the entire range of people, there would be only three I could not identify, and he was always grateful to me for my time and insight, telling me, “We couldn’t do this without you.” But I was determined to shut off the phone at night and be present for my family.
I set Natalia down inside and went back out to get the mail. When I opened my cell phone bill, I literally dropped to the ground.
“You okay, Mommy?” asked Kyle from the doorway, his blue eyes full of concern. I couldn’t answer. How was I going to tell Ben that the bill for the previous month was over $700? Surely this alone was grounds for divorce! I quickly sent e-mails or texts to most of my Texas contacts, requesting that unless it was a dire emergency, they restrict our correspondence to e-mails.
That night after dinner when the kids were busy playing, I hesitantly showed Ben the bill. He hit the roof.
“Enough is enough!” he thundered. “They get paid for this shit and you don’t! You are to cut off all calls and communication with anyone having anything to do with Texas!”
I was about to nod as usual, but something stopped me.
“No. I cannot, Ben. I know you don’t understand, but this is serious, and I won’t abandon any of them—our people… or Texas.” As I held my ground for the first time in our relationship, I watched his eyes grow bigger in disbelief. He sat stunned for several moments, before turning red with anger.
“What did they do to you? Did you sleep with some cowboy down there or something? You’re messed up in the head.”
But I wasn’t messed up at all. I’d been living in a canyon all my life, until I experienced freedom and equality that was as open and beautiful as the Texas sky.
Every night I watched the news as the fighting in the courts continued to intensify, and 111 children were relocated to foster homes. The FLDS were still unwilling to cooperate with government on any level. It hurt me to see mothers crying on-screen, yet hundreds of parents openly showed contempt of court by not appearing upon the judge’s orders to be swabbed for painless, oral DNA tests. They were hurting themselves the worst. Willie Jessop continued his campaign of lies, asking Utah’s governor to intervene, attempting to deliver a letter to President Bush while he was visiting his home state, and purportedly asserting huge pressure on the guardians ad litem of particular families.
State attorneys brought out scandalous evidence seized in the raid, the most damning a photo of Warren kissing Merrianne Jessop when she was so small that he had to cradle her in his arms. It was not a fatherly kiss. Fifty-year-old Warren was giving his twelve-year-old bride the romantic, intimate kiss of a husband. A version of the photo with Merrianne’s face blurred was flashed on news screens throughout the world and caused a huge public uproar.
Despite this, the District Court ordered the return of all the children to their parents on June 2, having determined that CPS had not met the burden of proof required for their removal. Two days later, every child was back on the ranch, except two kept in foster care due to strong evidence of abuse in their home. As soon as the families regained custody, half of them absconded from the YFZ and relocated to other FLDS sites, most of them outside of Texas. Many others trickled out as time went on. Just as it had feared, CPS would no longer be able to protect these children.
The statistics were staggering to me. One hundred forty-six families were investigated by CPS. Out of 439 children, two of whom were born in protective custody, 275 were declared victims of sexual abuse as defined by the Texas penal code, and 262 had been subjected to neglect. CPS conservatively stated that more than one out of every four pubescent girls on the ranch was involved in an underage marriage, though I noticed the number was actually very close to half. One hundred twenty-four adults were designated “perpetrators” of abuse, meaning men who engaged in underage marriages, and parents who failed to prevent underage marriages while letting their other children see this cycle as normal.
Lawyers, politicians, and players all pointed fingers, but in my mind the focus needed to be on the future. While I still strongly believed in religious freedom, I wanted to know how a nation could protect those rights and still safeguard their most vulnerable citizens.
Something had to change.