| In this 2012 photo provided by a former member of the church, Word of Faith Fellowship leader Jane Whaley, center, holds a baby, accompanied by her husband, Sam, center right, and others during a ceremony in the church's compound in Spindale, N.C. From all over the world, they flocked to this tiny town in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, lured by promises of inner peace and eternal life. What many found instead: years of terror _ waged in the name of the Lord. | 
         SPINDALE, 
N.C.        (AP) -- From all over the world, they flocked to this tiny 
town in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, lured by promises of 
inner peace and eternal life. What many found instead: years of terror -
 waged in the name of the Lord.
Congregants of
 the Word of Faith Fellowship were regularly punched, smacked, choked, 
slammed to the floor or thrown through walls in a violent form of 
deliverance meant to "purify" sinners by beating out devils, 43 former 
members told The Associated Press in separate, exclusive interviews.
Victims
 of the violence included pre-teens and toddlers - even crying babies, 
who were vigorously shaken, screamed at and sometimes smacked to banish 
demons.
"I saw so many people beaten over the 
years. Little kids punched in the face, called Satanists," said 
Katherine Fetachu, 27, who spent nearly 17 years in the church.
Word
 of Faith also subjected members to a practice called "blasting" - an 
ear-piercing verbal onslaught often conducted in hours-long sessions 
meant to cast out devils.
As part of its 
investigation, the AP reviewed hundreds of pages of law enforcement, 
court and child welfare documents, along with hours of conversations 
with Jane Whaley, the evangelical church's controlling leader, secretly 
recorded by followers.
The AP also spent more than a year tracking down dozens of former disciples who scattered after leaving the church.
Those
 interviewed - most of them raised in the church - say Word of Faith 
leaders waged a decades-long cover-up to thwart investigations by law 
enforcement and social services officials, including strong-arming young
 victims and their parents to lie.
They said 
members were forbidden to seek outside medical attention for their 
injuries, which included cuts, sprains and cracked ribs.
Several former followers said some congregants were sexually abused, including minors.
The
 former members said they were speaking out now due to guilt for not 
doing more to stop the abuse and because they fear for the safety of the
 children still in the church, believed to number about 100.
In
 the past, Whaley has strongly denied that she or other church leaders 
have ever abused Word of Faith members and contended that any discipline
 would be protected by the First Amendment's freedom of religion tenets.
She
 and church attorney Josh Farmer turned down repeated AP requests for 
interviews to discuss the fresh allegations from the dozens of former 
congregants. But hours after the AP's stories were released, the church 
posted a statement on its website calling the allegations false and 
contending they were made by "certain former members" out to target the 
church.
"We do not condone or allow abuse - in any form - at our church. Period," the statement said.
The
 ex-members said the violence was ever-present: Minors were taken from 
their parents and placed in ministers' homes, where they were beaten and
 blasted and sometimes completely cut off from their families for up to a
 decade.
For several years, males perceived as
 the worst sinners were kept in a four-room former storage facility in 
the compound called the Lower Building. They were cut off from their 
families for up to a year, never knew when they would be released, and 
endured especially violent, prolonged beatings and blastings, according 
to more than a dozen of those interviewed.
Teachers
 in the church's K-12 school encouraged students to beat their 
classmates for daydreaming, smiling and other behavior that leaders said
 proved they were possessed by devils, the former followers said.
"It
 wasn't enough to yell and scream at the devils. You literally had to 
beat the devils out of people," said Rick Cooper, 61, a U.S. Navy 
veteran who spent more than 20 years as a congregant and raised nine 
children in the church.
Word of Faith 
Fellowship has been scrutinized on numerous occasions by law 
enforcement, social services agencies and the news media since the early
 1990s- all without significant impact, mostly because followers refused
 to cooperate.
Some former members offered a 
more doctrinal explanation for their decades of silence: Frequent 
warnings by Whaley that God would strike them dead if they betrayed her 
or her church.
Word of Faith Fellowship was 
founded in 1979 by Whaley, a petite former math teacher, and her 
husband, Sam, a former used car salesman.
They
 are listed as co-pastors but all of those interviewed said it is Jane 
Whaley - a fiery, 77-year-old Christian Charismatic preacher - who 
maintains dictatorial control of the flock and also administers some of 
the beatings herself.
She has scores of strict
 rules to control congregants' lives, including whether they can marry 
or have children. At the top of the list: No one can complain about her 
or question her authority. Failure to comply often triggers a 
humiliating rebuke from the pulpit or, worse, physical punishment, 
according to most of those interviewed.
Under 
Jane Whaley's leadership, Word of Faith grew from a handful of followers
 to a 750-member sect, concentrated in a 35-acre complex protected by 
tight security and a thick line of trees.
The group also has nearly 2,000 members in churches in Brazil and Ghana, and affiliations in other countries.
Those
 attending the church's twice-a-year international Bible seminars were 
encouraged to move to Spindale, a community of 4,300 midway between 
Charlotte and Asheville. It wasn't until they sold their homes and 
settled in North Carolina that the church's "dark side" gradually 
emerged, former members said.
By then - 
isolated from their families and friends, and believing Whaley was a 
prophet - they were afraid to leave or speak out, they said.
Given
 what they characterize as Whaley's record for retribution against those
 she sees as traitors, the former members said they hope there is 
strength and protection in speaking out in numbers.
"For most of my life, I lived in fear. I'm not scared anymore," said John Cooper, one of Rick Cooper's sons.
Still,
 many former church members say the memories - and the nightmares - 
never seem to fade, and they live in fear for their family members still
 inside.
Danielle Cordes, now 22, said she has
 deep psychological scars from spending more than three-quarters of her 
life in Whaley's world.
Three years ago, the 
last time she tried to visit her parents' house, her father slammed the 
door in her face without saying a word. To this day, whenever she calls,
 family members hang up.
"I need my family and they're gone," she said.
Said
 Rick Cooper: "You're cut off from everyone in the world. The church - 
and Jane - is the only thing you know. You believe she's a prophet - she
 has a pipeline to God. So you stand by while she rips your family 
apart. I'm not sure how you ever get over that."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
