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Heartland, Missouri shorter edited entry for awards consideration

This is an edited version of KBIA's Heartland, Missouri, for consideration for awards submission. For the full version, follow this link: http://kbia.org/post/heartland-missouri

Below is the full script of the story, for consideration for the writing category. This is a 15 minute version of the story, so as to come in compliance with the time restrictions for the writing and investigative reporting categories. If you are judging the news documentary category, please follow the link above to the full, longer version of the story as it originally aired.

This story originally aired November 20, 2014. Nothing has been added to the story in this edited version, things have only been subtracted from the story to meet the time constraints.

Heartland, Missouri

ANCHOR INTRO:

For the past year, KBIA has been working on an investigative story about a place in Northeast Missouri called Heartland. It’s a story with threads of religion, law, business, and morality that all end in a knot in the middle of a cornfield. It’s a complex story so we’ve produced a half hour feature, brought to you now by reporter, Abigail Keel. Stay with us.

---------

If you drive about 85 miles northeast of Columbia, 45 minutes from the nearest big small town, along a two lane highway, amidst cornfields and soybeans, you'll crest a hill and see it. First you'll see the water tower. It's bright white, a beacon to farms around, and it's topped with an emblematic cross. Below it you'll see the new houses and roads; maybe some cows in the distance. It looks like a modern suburb dropped in the middle of a cornfield. It's not a city, exactly. It's just Heartland. And depending on who you talk to, this place is either a refuge… or an open wound…

TEASER:

You don't worship him, but you do have to give the man honor…WHAT ARE YOU DOING? IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE…. Like they would run through the cornfields to try to get out….SCREAM get off of her!....basically I was in the hospital for two weeks…bottoms, a lotta people think they're to sat on, they're to spank…this is the kind of work that you hope people are passionate about… we have no abuse here, we have zero tolerance..

♪♪♪

But before we get to all of that, let’s go to Heartland.

♪♪♪

Heartland is an intentional Christian community, designed after Psalm 107, where God leads the broken to a city of holiness. Pastor Charlie, or Charles Sharpe founded Ozark National Life Insurance company in Kansas City, Missouri in 1964. He's made millions of dollars since then and remains President of the company at 87 years old. In 1995, he started Heartland Community Church, according to Heartland legend, after a vision from God.

But when God’s plan for your community involves a cornfield, you start needing things. Like food, houses, and eventually a lot more. So Sharpe started building.

Brenda Potts is an official tour guide for Heartland. She took a team of KBIA reporters around the complex—that spreads into 3 counties—in June 2013.

NAT_driving

Potts_4

everything that you see, these houses, are built and designed by our own construction groups.

On the tour, Potts pointed out everything at heartland from the general store, to the Laundromat called Cleansing waters. There was the autobody shop, the zoo, the medical center, and the public restaurant and lodge. There was also an airport, not to mention the mansion on the pond belonging to Charles Sharpe. One stop was the creamery and cheese packaging plant.

Potts_16

Straight ahead is our creamery and cheese packaging

Maybe that finally rings a bell. For many in the state, the only thing they know about this place is the cheese. Heartland operates a dairy that sells milk, eggs, and cheese. Stores like HyVee and Schnucks carry Heartland's brand. Their silver trucks say "Jesus is the Answer" and travel highways like 63, I-70 and I-44.

♪♪♪

But the point of heartland isn't the businesses. Like Potts said, those are to teach skills and provide jobs. The real point of heartland goes a lot deeper. This is a pastor talking in a promotional video produced by heartland.

Nats from Heartland vimeo video

Everything we do here, we're a working dairy and row crop farm and construction and concrete but all that is secondary. You know, I can't save your life. Heartland can't save you—but Jesus Christ can. And I know that. I'm a living testimony to that every day.

Heartlanders, as they call themselves, say people come for a relationship with Jesus. During our tour, many people told us that Heartland had changed their lives, even saved them.

Some people hear about Heartland through their churches. Many are referred by friends who already live there or know Sharpe through his companies. Once you find your way to Heartland, there's little reason to leave—living expenses are automatically docked from pay, so employees don’t pay out of pocket for housing. Many of them are young, and start their adult lives with the support of Heartland.

♪♪♪

A lot of important people know about Heartland, too. Peter Kinder, Missouri's Lieutenant Governor tweeted in 2012 about his visit to Heartland. John Ashcroft, the former Governor of Missouri and former US Attorney General spoke at the Heartland Christian College fundraiser in 2013, broadcast on KWIX radio.

Ashcroft_edited tape

            Delighted to be back in Northeast Missourah, great to be with you.

He also wrote the forward to Charles Sharpe's autobiography, as they are long time friends.

So even though it’s nestled in a very rural area in northeast Missouri, Heartland isn't a secret. In fact, people find heartland from all over the United States, and then they send their children there.

Heartland Christian Academy is a private school that opened on the complex in 1996. It's a K through 12 curriculum that currently has more than 200 students. It’s right there in the center of things, completing the suburb feel. Some students live at Heartland with their families, some come daily from nearby small towns. Others are boarders, dropped off by their parents for the "youth program" a rehabilitation track for "wayward teens."

Here's what Heartland's website says about the academy: "If you desire a school for your children where God is honored, the Bible is revered as the standard for life, and excellence is pursued, consider Heartland Christian Academy."

And plenty of people agree.

As a teen, Sarah Barton says she was pretty out of control. She ran away, skipped school, slept in parks. But Heartland, she says, saved her.

Barton_1

I would say stability, the stableness of lifestyle. Of course Jesus is the forefront of everything. Without him and salvation, I don't even know what Heartland had to offer besides Jesus. He is the answer to all things. He saved me, he restored my family. He gave me opportunity.

♪♪♪

Barton is not alone. We spoke with other former students at Heartland who said they felt the stability and structure put them on the right path. But while the strictness works for some, others say it crosses a line. See, Heartland Christian Academy openly uses corporal punishment. In Missouri, it's legal for schools to use physical punishment as long as parents know the school's policy. And heartland doesn't hide its philosophy—you can find it in the online application. Besides, it's in Proverbs: "Whoever spares the rod hates their children"

We spoke to many people at Heartland who were proud former students. But we spoke to some people who no longer live at Heartland who were not as fond of their policies.

Scribner_4

Hi!

That's Leah Devost-Scribner. We spoke with her via skype from Alaska, where she lives now with her husband and children. She was a student at Heartland between 2003 and 2005. She said her parents sent her there to gain a closer relationship with God.

Scribner_5

 I know most people wouldn't say corporal punishment is abuse but when you, you're getting... we would get swats from men in their 30's… and they used, the big paddles that had holes in them so when they would swat you it would leave welts… And, still it's hard to talk about because they would do it for nothing at all.

Scribner_6

Like in my case, um, I shaved my armpits once and that was the first time I got swats         

Swanson_2

Let's you had a chore to wash the table and you didn't do it correctly, you would get some form of consequence.. And it could be consisting of writing scripture, they believe in giving swats... it could be anything.

Maiah Swanson was adopted from Romania and moved to Wisconsin. She said her parents had trouble with the transition and sent her to Heartland with her brothers in 2001 when she was 9 years old. She lived there for 7 years. .

Swanson_3

the policy was that 10 swats, you couldn't go over than 10 swats.

Scribner_8

And I know girls that would get the 10 swats for weeks straight just for one thing that they did wrong.

Swanson_4

And I don't know exactly what I did wrong but I received 15 swats I think within 10 minutes…they went too far…and I don't want to be graphic, but I was in the hospital for two weeks.

Scribner_9

…the guy hit me so hard that I fell forward and moved my shoulder weird and it dislocated, popped right out of place, and for the next few days, I can't remember how many exactly--my whole arm, there was just so much pain, and it was just swollen.

♪♪♪

It's not just physical. Heartland openly uses a variety of techniques to keep children in line.

Swanson_5

…If they did something really bad they would obviously put the girls in an orange suit or an ugly dress with a sign that said talk out. That's part of the humility-- that's a way to really humiliate somebody.

Orange suits are prison-style jumpsuits that students must wear when they've broken a rule. Staff say it helps them spot children attempting to run away after getting in trouble. When a student wears the talk out sign they aren't allowed to speak unless directed to by staff.

Swanson_6

And I'm talking about not you just can't talk for an hour, sometimes there were, I've seen girls that couldn't talk for months.

           

The Missouri Department of Social Services mentions isolation, starvation, and untrained staff as situations that could cross the boundary into abuse or neglect

Swanson and Devost-Scribner say that while they were there, students were also isolated, denied meals, and verbally abused. Heartland monitors student's phone calls and mail. They can't have cell phones.

♪♪♪

Scribner_11

… I mean I never tried running away but I had friends that just couldn't handle it. And they would run through the cornfields to try to get out and .. I would just remember them coming back and just all-- from running through the corn, they would just be like completely like scraped up and just horrible. That they wanted to get out so bad that they would go through that much trouble of running through that…

♪♪♪

To understand Heartland policies, you need to hear from someone in charge. And who better than the founder himself: Charles Sharpe’s office was the last stop on our tour.

NAT_CNS

Sharpe_2

 bottoms, a lot of people think they are just sat on

Sharpe told us many times in our interview that he didn't think Heartland's corporal punishment policies crossed the line.

Sharpe_5

We looked at all models. We looked at everything. But there is no model works like spanking

Sharpe_6

We try everything. Spanking is the last resort but when it comes down to that, if you can't get kids to do what you tell them, what would you do?

And of course, through the years, I’ve taken swats myself several times, and of course, make em watch, they have to watch.  Now that usually is as hard on em, or harder on em, than when you give them swats.

Sharpe_2

It works fine. We don't beat. We never broke... I think we did one time when a kid broke an arm… 

Even though some people we spoke with said they felt isolated from resources and help, Sharpe says Heartland has an ombudsman.

Sharpe_3

We have no abuse here. We have zero tolerance

Sharpe ran his insurance business for 40 years before he found his calling—to start Heartland. He tells a story that everyone at Heartland knows about driving along a country road and hearing the voice of God. There’s a mural of it in the school, with a yellow glow radiating from Sharpe’s face as he pictures what Heartland looks like today.

Sharpe_7

And the Lord said to me, now you can hear me. It's me, I'm talking to you. I want you to build a place for kids.

Sharpe's mission at Heartland is to provide the kind of instruction that he believes will put youth on the right path, and to combat the problems he sees with how society deals with children.

Sharpe_8

I want to ask another question. Why do you think today our juvenile places are packed? …Kids are wonderful. They just don't have anybody to raise 'em. They don't have anybody to teach 'em.

Sharpe_9

But all of those problems will be solved if we just knew god.

And that doesn't just go for his school. Another pride of Heartland is the Men's Recovery Program—a private religious program that helps rehabilitate over 100 men at a time who have issues ranging from alcohol and drug addiction to serious crimes and jail time.

Sharpe_10

Nobody will hire a person because he has been in prison. Those are the very people we want. Once we rebuild them, they really make great citizens, great people. All of our people have been in prison. Almost all of them.

Most of the guys in the recovery program work for Heartland's huge cattle and dairy operations… as part of their treatment. The program is 18 months long, longer than many rehab options, and the men live and work about 10 miles away from the main campus… even further off the beaten path. They do hard farm work there, many with no experience in agriculture before they show up.

For many guys who come to Heartland, they get exactly what they need.

Wilson_3

Number one is God. It's a faith based program. Number two, it makes you live a year and a half sober. It's the time, if there's a lot of ti me involved in there, you have to deal with the situation, deaths in the family, you have to deal with everyday situation like everybody else has to

That's Erich Wilson. He had been at Heartland for three years when we talked to him in June 2013. Wilson struggled with drugs for years before he tried any sort of rehab. He says pain pills, meth, and alcohol were all part of his self-medication regimen. It put strain on his family.

After trying a few more standard rehabilitation centers and relapsing, Wilson says he hit a low point.

Wilson_2

It's embarrassing and makes you feel weak as a person. I did try to kill myself after the second rehab. I slit my throat, 200 stitches in my throat. It was pretty much the lowest point because it was hopeless when I thought that I'm not going to be able to beat this.

Now he's one of Heartland's successful testimonies. He stuck around Heartland after the program for the job security and was later joined by his family. His story isn't uncommon around Heartland.

Some of the guys who graduate from Recovery move back to the main Heartland complex, and find jobs there or remain in the Dairy. But some move into supervisory roles in the program, where they become responsible for leading others through recovery. Many of the men in the program have committed serious crimes—sometimes as serious as sex offenses—and then they stick around Heartland and the vulnerable population it serves. But Sharpe and those who run the recovery program say that growing to the point of being able to help others shows real change of character.

Sharpe_10

They are the ones who run this place. They are in charge and we trust them.  We are let down occasionally. But how many times have been let down by people who haven't been in prison?

Sharpe says Heartland does undeniable good in changing people's lives. Why else would he invest the 140 million dollars he has in starting and maintaining Heartland?

Frankly he says, look around. What the state is doing to help troubled youth and people who need rehabilitation… isn’t working. And those who say he's running some sort of scam with his program baffle Sharpe.

Sharpe_11

I don't care what the people say. It doesn't mean a thing to me.

Sharpe_14

Here's the part that is the biggest shock to me of all. People already determined that we had some kind of ulterior motive.. This is what I can never figure out. …If you can show me anybody that has made millions of dollars messing with kids, I want you to show me.

And, he's not being paranoid. There was a period of time when he and Heartland were getting a lot of attention from the state. In the late 1990s, there were a number of environmental lawsuits handled by then-attorney general Jay Nixon’s office, which in one case cost Sharpe's company 110 thousand dollars. And then, there was the raid in 2001.

Sharpe_15

There was no question the state wanted to take the place over. they just hate it because they don't' have any success and we have a lot of success. …The real shame is, if we hadn't had money, they would have got it done.

Nat Sound_Raid Video

In 2001 criminal charges were filed against 5 adults at heartland for what court documents describe as the "manure pit incident." Students were being made to shovel, and by some accounts, stand in cow manure as punishment A jury in Northeast Missouri acquitted three staff members, saying the punishment seemed more like farm work and less like abuse. Charges were dropped against the other two.

But as rumors of abuse grew, so did concern from the state. Maiah Swanson, from earlier, was one of the students removed from Heartland by the state in the raid, and later returned.

Swanson_8

October 30th is when the juvenile officers, I don't know how many, but there were way too many that came unexpectedly and, went in and took 115 students out. For me, I mean I was 9 years old, it was very chaotic.

Nat Sound_Raid Video

Heartland has a telecommunications company, and staff were videotaping during the raid. In the video, you can see state officers escorting children out of the school and loading children onto school buses. Students are yelling and resisting, and staff members seem helpless. The officers are focused on evacuating the school.

All this happened on October 30th, 2001.  The state removed 115 students from Heartland Christian Academy after an investigation into the child abuse claims from a hotline call. In the end, all but 3 of the students ended up back at Heartland because their parents returned them. After all, children become custody of the state in a raid, and legally, their parents still had custody.

♪♪♪

Heartland wasn't pleased, and Sharpe began a legal battle that lasted more than 3 years which he says cost him 6 million dollars to win. 

Basically, parents and Sharpe filed numerous lawsuits making the case that the state acted rashly and harmfully by removing students from Heartland.

They sued the state, departments involved in the raid, and even some individuals working on behalf of the Youth Services Department. These individuals were Juvenile Officers, special agents who work with young people involved in legal issues with the state. Their role is somewhere between the legislative and executive branches and Missouri is one of few states with these positions.

In the Heartland case, it was the Juvenile Officers, specifically one man named Mike Waddle, who were in charge of making the call. Waddle and a team of other juvenile officers had conducted interviews with students at Heartland before the raid, but they say as the investigation got serious, they thought conversations with Heartland were strained. They felt there was evidence of child abuse worthy of action, and thought a raid was their best option. Heartland…did not.

Clark Peters is an assistant professor at the University of Missouri School of Social Work. He says it’s tough to walk the fine line between constraining authority and allowing discretion for Juvenile Officers.

Peters_3

This is not easy work and the juvenile officer has to make  very hard decisions and often the best decision is simply the least bad among bad choices.

Heartland sued Mike Waddle in civil court over the raid. He represented himself. There were appeals, but eventually Heartland won 800,000 dollars in legal fees and judge E. Richard Webber signed an injunction barring the state from removing any child from Heartland without having solid proof the child is being abused or is in imminent danger of abuse. This ruling essentially set a very high bar for the state to meet if it wants to get involved at Heartland.

♪♪♪

Peters_4

This is the kind of work that you sort of hope people are passionate about. This is not, how do you be, if there is a way, I'm not sure I can do it. I don't know how you can be dispassionate about caring for children.

Despite his passion, Mike Waddle, one of the Juvenile Officers Peters is talking about did not want to go on the record for this story. He says thinking about the case takes too much out of him. He lost his job, and not only that—he says he lost his faith in a system he defended, Missouri's juvenile justice system.  Waddle says the personal toll of discussing it brings up things it's taken him 10 years to try and forget.

♪♪♪

Think back to that moment… when Charles Sharpe got his vision from God to start this place in this cornfield, spread out over three counties in northeastern Missouri. Regardless of how you feel about that story… there’s something behind it the idea that this cornfield in Missouri is perfect place for Heartland to exist. Many of our sources say Missouri is likely one of the only places in the country Heartland could operate… because of this state's specific set of laws and political climate.

Missouri requires most child care facilities, residential care facilities, and schools to be--at minimum—inspected for health and safety. This means there are minimum requirements facilities must meet, and they can exceed them if they choose to become licensed or accredited by the state. Any facility that receives public funding must meet those requirements. None of this applies to Heartland.

Iveson_1        

there is an exemption granted for religion--religiously oriented programs. And the thinking there is that, the state should not interfere with something that's religious based.

Cande Iveson is a professor of Social Work at the University of Missouri. Those private facilities she is talking about can claim a religious exemption from inspection and licensing. All they even have to do is claim it.

Franck

If you believe that you have this faith exemption as a facility that's good enough. You don't have to apply to verify that that’s the case.

This is Matt Franck, the deputy metro editor for the St. Louis Post Dispatch.

He wrote a series of articles on teen reform ministries in Missouri in the early 2000s.

And Missouri's combination of laws is distinct. Corporal punishment in schools is only legal in 19 states, including Missouri, according to the Center for Effective Discipline. And while multiple states have some religious exemptions to licensure for residential facilities, Missouri's regulations are some of the most lax in the nation according to our sources.

Franck @15minutes

but  Missouri has long attracted teen reform ministries of this sort because they're totally unregulated due to the faith exemption

Franck_9:15

It has been my experience that when there is a problem with any kind of institution, any type of group home with youth, that it's typically your worst employee that causes you problems. And in that respect, these facilities are no different than any group home.

Franck says the lack of regulations makes this problem worse. It’s not just that there’s no regulatory body to check on employees who aren’t meeting standards, there aren’t even any standards.

But Cande Iveson says it's important to keep in mind just how complicated it is to write and change child welfare laws. They are tangled up in something very important, especially in Missouri.  Religious Freedom.

And at it’s core religious freedom is a form of individualist rights. This same idea comes back into play when we talk about child welfare. S ome people promote the rights of parents to make decisions for their families, and others think there can be good reason to allow state intrusion into family affairs.

iveson_6

It's a fundamental values conflict for us. This is the state intruding in the unit, the family, that we consider most sacrosanct. It is a policy area that is very nuanced and difficult…

The last time Missouri’s lawmakers took on the task of reforming Child welfare laws was 2004. Catherine Hanaway, who was speaker of the state house at the time, sponsored the Dominic James Bill. It was named after a young boy who died at the hands of his foster father and prompted the overhaul of all sorts of child and foster care reform issues.

It made a lot of other significant changes, but one of the most important for this story is that it changed the standard of proof for child abuse cases, making it more difficult to prove abuse or neglect. And it didn’t change the licensing laws that apply to places like Heartland.

Still, the bill was vetoed by Governor Bob Holden, but the Missouri legislature overrode it and it became law. Hanaway's political ascent continued from there. She was later appointed by John Ashcroft to the US Attorney General’s office, and she is planning to run for governor in 2016.

Another one of many political forces behind the bill was someone we already know.

Sharpe_16

If I find a guy that I think is conservative, the person who doesn't want to give away the country, if he takes a stance against abortion, and he stands for marriage between a man and a woman, I'll vote for you.

While Charles Sharpe is very critical of the state, and refuses to take any money from the state for Heartland’s benefit, he’s very interested in state politics. He's proud of helping John Ashcroft make it to Washington D.C.

Matt Franck explained it like this.

Franck 16:06

Well Charlie Shape has always been a key political donor… And Yeah, I'd consider him one of the more influential people in Jefferson City circles. 

According to data from the Missouri Ethics Commission, Sharpe, his wife Laurie, their business associates and their corporations have donated just less than 1 million dollars to political candidates and organizations since 2002.

So when the Dominic James case prompted Hanaway's bill, Sharpe and his lobbyists had a seat at the table.

A 2003 editorial by the St. Louis Post Dispatch said the Dominic James bill should actually be called the Heartland Protection Act. At one point, a provision was inserted in the bill that would have made it impossible for the state to consider something abuse at an unlicensed facilities like Heartland as long as it was part of the institution’s policy. A pretty big loophole for organizations that don’t even have to register with the state. The provision was eventually taken out.

Franck says the raid and the expensive legal aftermath have certainly had an influence over Missouri’s lawmakers, making them less likely to want to get involved at private facilities.

Franck says the way he sees it, there could be some sort of compromise reached on minimal regulations, just  o have a record of these facilities existing, and protecting their clients from bad intentioned employees.

Franck_19:30

I guess I would like to see a conversation take place in the legislature that hasn't yet happened which is really sitting down and comparing how Missouri compares to other states and looking at a track record of these facilities

But Franck acknowledges, protecting religious freedom is sort of in Missouri’s political bones, so it's unlikely there will be a push to change the laws that affect heartland anytime soon.  

Franck says while he was reporting about Heartland and some of these types of facilities, he also saw the need that helps them exist. He’s met some desperate parents who often times aren’t even religious, but are just at the end of their rope.

Franck 6:12

Who’s to say whether it works? I mean,… I've spoken to enough people that as adults say it worked for them. There are certainly a lot of parents who will swear that it was the saving grace of their children.

But some former students, like Leah Devo-scribner, say that even though Sharpe and others at heartland may have good intentions, they have invisible scars that endure. 

Scribner_13

I would just say that… he doesn’t know the damage that he’s done…

Even Sharpe recognizes his program isn’t ideal for everyone

Sharpe_18

I'm sure there are kids that hadn't had great experience because they didn't' want to change. It is a terrible place for people that don't' want to change. If you don't' want to change, you don't want to come here.

There are people who told us that their experience at Heartland was close to hell, but plenty of others we spoke to saw heartland as a paradise, or refuge. A place that took them when nowhere else would.

But the truth is that heartland is neither heaven nor hell. It’s a place that can either help, or inflict lasting wounds.

I’m Abigail Keel. Special thanks to Ryan Famuliner, Janet Saidi and Casey Morell for their reporting on this story.  

ANCHOR OUTRO:

There’s still more to this story about Heartland. Visit KBIA.org has photos of the Heartland complex, and more details about the story.

 

Ryan served as the KBIA News Director from February 2011 to September 2023
Abigail Keel is a senior student at the Missouri School of Journalism. She is originally from St. Louis, Missouri and grew up hating the drone of public radio in her parent's car. In high school, she had a job picking up trash in a park where she listened to podcasts for entertainment and made a permanent switch to public-radio lover. She's volunteered and interned for Third Coast International Audio Festival in Chicago, IL, and worked on the KBIA shows Faith and Values, Intersection and CoMO Explained.