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September 12, 1976 - Image 3

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
Michigan Daily, 1976-09-12

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Sunday

magcazine

inside:
page four-
looking back
page five-books

Number 1

Page Three

September 12, 1976

You've heard that Sun Myung Moon's churc
is a conspiracy to brain wash youth? t's true

h
9.

By JEFFREY SELBST
WHAT DO WE KNOW of the Rev-
erend Sun Myung Moon? The facts
of his existence are obscure - he was
born in 1920, in Korea, founded a church
that he calls the "Unification" church,
and his followers are spread in small;
communal living situations throughout
the non-Communist world. But what is
it really? Is "Divine Principle" really
a religion?
The truth is often elusive, for the
Moonies -- as nis followers have been
referred to - don't, as a rule, talk to
outsiders, and those not within the or-
ganization are given a carefully con-
trolled view of the proceedings on the
rare occasions when they are allowed
to observe. And so I decided that the
only way to form a reasonable opinion
of the group was to approach one of
their chapters and join - in effect, to
become a Moonie.
While I was spending time with them,
trying to understand their motives, I
received the inescapable impression that
the church was not a religious organi-
zation at all, but instead an army blind-
ly devoted to their totalitarian leader.
The ground-level members of that army,
the Moonies, are subtly brainwashed
into devotion. but all levels of leader-
ship above that point seem, to my mind,
to be conscious of the Church's - and
Moon's - real plans, which are political
domination, however unlikely that may,
be to occur.
THE MICHIGAN GROUP is run by
Don and Molly Hart (all names have
been changed). Don Hart is about 45,
graying at the temple, a smooth i'-
surance-salesman type. His wife is son:-
what younger, with hair in an auburn
Afro. She has children clinging to her,
but she is genial. The Harts joined the
Church in 1961, and were selected by
its ruling authority to head the burgeon-
ing Michigan group. That was 1967.
Today they preside over a motley
crew of approximately thirty 19-26 year-
olds, living communally in a converted
dude ranch just outside Kalkaska, Mich.,
near Traverse City.
,To even find the group, I had to per-
form a series of discouraging telephonic
maneuvers. There being no local list-
ings for the Unification Church, I had
to call the central New York office, and
they referred me to the Harts' number.
When I called, I introduced myself as
a young, rootless member of society
who'd read about their organization and
Jeffery Selbst is a Daily staff writer.

hoped they could lead me to a fulfill-
ing life. They invited me up for a week-
end at their Sky Valley Ranch to take
the seminar course in Unification Theolo-
gy.
A friend drove me up to the Ranch
in the evening, with instructions to pick
me up at the same time the following
night.
When we pulled up to the main house,
a young boy came out, holding two snap-
ping dogs at bay. He quieted them and
asked in a surly tone what we were
doing there. I replied that I had been
invited to come up for the seminar.
Still unmoved, he asked me who my
"'contact" was. I had been tody to re-
ply that it was Cassie Denton. When I
imparted this information to the boy,
his features relaxed somewhat. He said
that ,his father was arleep and his moth-
er was in town. I askedhim if I could
come in, and he told me to wait. In
a few minutes, though, Don Hart came
out to greet me.
Y COMPANION drove off, leaving
me in a cloud of dust. Don and I
entered the ranch. He told me that the
"Family" - meaning the 30 or so young
Moonies as well as his wife and chil-
dren - hadn't yet returned from town,
and that I should rest a bit before
they did.
"What are they doing?" I asked in-
nocently.
"Fund-raising," he said lightly. I
learned later that this was their euphem-
ism for panhandling and candy-peddling.
I entered the main room of the dark-
ened ranch. It was eerie. There were
wood-burned signs everywhere, remnants
of more convivial days, advising that
children weren't allowed in the dining
area without their parents, and that
there would be no running. The atmo-
sphere was one of faded gaiety; to me,
with my foreknowledge of the group, it
was slightly sinister as well.
HERE I WAS, miles from civiliza-
tion, with no one to hear me if I
should suddenly scream for help ... oh,
crap. I was watching too many made-for-
TV movies. They weren't going to do
anything, just talk to me about God.
Hart directed me to the "Annie Oak-
ley" room where I was to spend the
night. He told me that I could either
lie down for a while, or take a walk
around the ranch. Then he disappeared.
I lay down for a bit, then grew
curious. You're too scared, I told my-
self. You're supposed to be observing.
So I got up, went outside, and took a
long walk down dusty trails, through

"You'll know all about that tomorrow."
Then they began to ask about my
background, and I gave them my care-
fully fabricated story about having been
a moral drifter, into different religious
groups, disillusioned, sex, drugs - but
I wanted a new life. They were satis-
fied with much less than I thought they'd
be.
We went to sleep. The next iorn-
ing, when I awoke, I found more than
twelve men were sleeping in the bunks,
on the floors, stuffing the .Annie Oak-
ley room with male Moonie humanity,
and I wondered why, when there seem-
ed to be so many open rooms at the
ranch. I was told that most of the rooms
in the house were reserved for the ex-
clusive use of the Harts, and secondly,
that close, communal living fostered the
sense of brotherly love that the Rev.
Moon, or more simply, "Father."
preaches.
I HAD BEEN AWAKENED early by
none other than my contact. It was
quite early in the morning, and she
said to hurry and get dressed, that the
seminars took all day to complete. I
dressed and had a cup of coffee down-
stairs with Dolly Hart and her children,
as well as Lou Ann, Cassie, and Herbert,
the man I'd met the night before.
We had a pleasant chat, and then I
was abruptly led into a classroom up-
stairs, equipped with several songbooks,
a chalkboard, and some chairs. There
was a podium at center. All my lec-
turers that day stood at the podium,
which made me feel silly, as I was
the only student in the room.
Cassie, a stylishly dressed ,young
black, and I sang songs of God to con-
secrate the day properly, while I sur-
reptitiously leafed through the book at
the same time looking at the songs.
Some were traditional Christian hymns,
some were Korean numbers penned by
Moon himself, and the majority were
of the sort "He's Got the Whole World
In His Hands," and "On A Clear Day
You Can See Forever." Mock-pop-in-
spirational.
The entire day was spent with one
of those three - Herbert, Cassie, or
LouAnn - as lecturers, explaining over
and over the Moon theology, the Divine
Principle of the Unification Church.
1HE THEOLOGY is nonsense. The
basics are this: history repeats it-
self, the time is- once again ripe for a
Messiah, the Messiah must come from
an Eastern, nonaggressive, non-Com-
munist nation (i.e.,Korea), and he must

have been born in 1920 or so. They
never tell you that it is Moon-you are
left to drawthe obvious conclusion.
I found myself wondering how on
earth these people - who seemed for
the most part sensible, down-to-earth
individuals - could believe this twad-
dle. The answer was in their willing-
ness to believe. If there is brainwash-
ing in the Moon organization, it takes
the form of implanted suggestion, and
it is all quite subtle.
Moreover ,the group takes care of
its members. It buys their food, pro-
vides their lodgings, and gives them a
Family to be a part of. They have no
monetary worries. Their "fund-raising"
- an activity I gathered to occupy most
of their time - pays for all the essen-
tials. But the "children", the young peo-
ple my age who slavishly followed the
dictates of their leaders, had for the most
part abandoned control of their own
lives. In this I perceive the real bar-
gaining. Not a mindless drumming-in of
rules so much as an inculcation for the
r style of life. The leaders - from the
Harts up to the top - said, in effect,
leave everything to us, and we'll take
care of you. Their children are trusting.
I was reserved and shy, not willing to
open my mouth lest I reveal a natural
cynicism of mood that wouldn't sit too
well with these life-lovers, and lest I
contradict a whit of the already too-
elaborate lie that I had made my life.
And so I made a big hit with the group.
Foolishly, I'd given them my real name
and phone number, and didn't realize
that I hadn't shaken them at the end of
my stay.
THEY CAME AFTER me, and asked
me to join them for a weekend at
their Center in Detroit, from whence
we would all go on an outing to Cedar
Point together. As Hart told them re-
peatedly, "Well, Family, we all work
hard - so let's all play hard!" TV1
was greeted with hoots and catcalls, as
from an eighth-grade phys ed class.
So they picked me up in Ann Arbor
the night before, and took me to the
Center. The next morning, as we were
all having breakfast, I came to under-
stand much more of the group.
We had just finished our pre-meal
prayer - the Moonies always pray in
convulsive, shuddering voices, with ap-
propriate hesitations, as though the
pauses make the prayer more sincere
(a style picked up, I. gather, from Don
See WHO, Page 4

Sun Moon

beautiful country, and felt somewhat re-
assured. Nothing perverted could hap-
pen to me amidst all that lovely green-
ery. Still, I had the creeps.
I went back to the ranch, back to
my room, and closed my eyes. When
I reopened them, there was a young
man, about my age or a bit older,
clean-cut and conservatively-dressed,
standing over my bunk.
HE ASKED ME if I wanted to clean
up, and I eagerly replied that I
did, so he directed me to the shower.
I washed my body, and went down-
stairs. Most of the group was having
a financial meeting in another room,
and so I had a cup of coffee with two

of the group - Lou Ann, a perky red-
haired woman of about twenty-three,
and Maria, a glamorous Chicano who
had joined almost as recently as I.
Under the guise of simple curiosity,
I asked questions: Why had each of
them joined, what had their past lives
been like? Lou Ann had been going to
a fashionable college in Ohio, she told
me, had grown disillusioned, and when
her boyfriend had joined Moon, so had
she. "I didn't know what I was get-
ting into," she said, "'but it was bet-
ter than what I'd had."
I asked her to elaborate. "Well, it
gave me a direction," she said, "but I
didn't really know about the theology
until I had the seminar." She smiled.

Dr.

Spock:

Mixing

pediatrics

and

By JAY LEVIN _
DR. SPOCK STILL likes his babies.
So it was only natural that he put down
his sandwich earlier this week when John
Strouss III, age thirteen months, was
brought to his restaurant table.
"That's a marvelous baby," Benjamin
Spock told John's mother, Susan, as he
stroked the toddler's silky cheek with a
beefy forefinger. Ms. Strouss, beaming the
undeniable smile of a proud mama, then
told the good doctor something he's prob-
ably heard before: "I have your books."
LOTS OF FOLKS have Spock's books.
Since 1933, when he began a private
practice in pediatrics, Spock's writings
and lectures have counseled countless par-
ents in every aspect of child care, from
psychological development to diaper rash.
Although he gave up his practice in 1947,
his professorships and continued writ-
ings have helped to update and perpetu-
ate the wisdom two generations of par-
ents have trustfully employed in the rais-
ing- of their youngsters.
Spock retired from his last professor-
ship in 1967, retreating to the balmy
shores of the Virgin Islands where he
could pursue his favorite pasttime-sail-
ing-and continue to write his regular
column in Redbook Magazine. He has been
a hot commodity on the lecture circuit.
And now at age 73, the doctor is toying
urit nn nmit+n Qnma migh nf 'rilra_

ing in Ann Arbor "This (my campaign)
is just as much a part of helping people
to educate themselves politically as it is
to educate themselves pediatrically."
POLITICS IS NOT ENTIRELY new to
Spock, a tall, lean man who towered
over the young associates who accompa-
nied him into town. An early and vigorous
opponent of the Vietnam War, Spock re-
nounced his faith in the present day po-
litical system twelve years ago when
President Johnson broke a promise he
made to Spock personally - that young
soldiers would not fight in an Asiatic
war.
If Johnson was going to send Spock's
babies to Vietnam, Spock felt it neces-
sary to put up a fight.
"When he escalated the war," Spock
recalled, "I was outraged and horrified
and quadrupled my antiwar activities,
and a couple of years later he (Johnson)
tried to jail me for what I call telling the
truth to the American people."
Spock continued to broaden his political
involvements, and four years ago was
designated the presidential candidate of
the People's Party, a socialist group. He
grabbed 78,000 votes. This year, he is run-
ning with a 53 year old black woman, Mar-
garet Wright, leading the ticket.
Although Spock's campaign style is low
keyed and his name will appear on ballots
in only ten states, it's a tiring quest. The
young Socialist politicians who accom-
nanv him marvel at his stamina and un-

more than anywhere else. And though to-
day Spock blames a society laden with
tension, materialism, competition, and
rugged individualism for the troubles of
youth, he lived his own childhood in a*
great fear generated not by the world
outside the nuclear family - but by his
own dominant and demanding parents.
"They scared me, scolded me, acted
very displeased if I did something the
least bit wrong," he recalled. "They
threatened me with their grave looks to
withdraw their approval and love. I was
scared to death of them."
Teachers, dogs, policemen and bullies
also posed a problem, as the insecurities
embedded in him by his parents carried
over into his adult years. Spock even
links the fact that he kept his virginity
until marriage at the age of 24, to his
parents' strict rearing.

Adding to Spock's childhood miseries
were five younger brothers and sisters.
"Since I was the oldest, I had to take
a lot of care of them," he said. Eventual-
ly, this early rehearsing formed the
springboard of his pediatric career.
But how did the expert choose to raise
his own two sons, now aged 44 and 40,
when he was so intimately enmeshed in
the lives of other children?
"Well, if you ask them," Spock said with
a slight giggle, "they'll say I was very
severe."
HlE DOESN'T SEEM SEVERE. His occa-
sionally raspy voice is somewhat
soothing; as he treats his adults the same
way he'd smear petroleum jelly over a
baby's behind. He happily signed the back
of one admirer's nineteen year old baby
picture during. his lunch, and even threw
in some kindhearted words about the ad-
mirer's early good looks.
"My ex-wife says that on the surface

politics
I'm easy going and agreeable," Spock
said. "Then she adds, 'But that's not what
he's like at all. He really drives himself
and he drives others."'
Though others may call him farsighted,
Spock's grandchildren consider him an
old fashioned man whose views on sex
might need to be revamped.
"I wrote a book for teenagers," he re-
recalled, "and they (his grandchildren)
think it was against pornography."
The doctor, however, feels obligated to
update his books so they don't appear too
dusty and provincial. Last April, Spock's
"desexed'' edition of Baby and Child Care
hit the stands with all sexist references
conspicuously absent.
"If I were writing another book for
teenagers, I would no longer mention por-
nography with disapproval," he said. "I
still think I'm right, though," he added
with casual arrogance. "But I think that
See SPOCK, Page 4

a

{ Yy

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