• Report: #1020176
Complaint Review:


  • Submitted: Mon, February 25, 2013
  • Updated: Mon, February 25, 2013

  • Reported By: AG. E — Seattle Washington United States of America
811 Maynard seattle, Washington United States of America
  • Phone:
  • Web:
  • Category: Cult

AG. E was homeless and preyed not prayed on by cult! seattle, Washington

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I am so greatful that places exist which exhibit the heart of christ. The lordless ranch is not one of them! That soup they fed me everyday for 6 days nearly killed me. I could smell bacon eggs and pancakes every day at 4:00 am though after being forced out of bed at 5:30 to help the man who lives in the chicken coop shovel rotten food and feces breakfast was served at 8am. The same oatmeal in the same filthy pot everyday! The same exact oatmeal!!!! they added something new everyday! cinnamon day two, rasins day three, I think chicken eyes day four. One kid...30 years old and yes a kid! has been there since facing life tragedies at age 18. 12 years of brainwashing by the pancake and bacon eating fancy car driving "over-seers" several people in Spokane told me that the Cheif Finacial Earner at the place is a meth addict and is in town all the time drinking and slamming dope. They took my cell phones when I got there and told me I could not talk to my daughter or girlfriend for 90 days. This in no way was what I was led to expect when I met the pastor and his drones in Lynnwood. They'd said "hey buddy, are you looking for work?"

I was so dang excited, I was homeless, my life was in shambles after a few bad business desicions coupled with to much fast living, drugs and alchohol. I had just gotten sober in the Summer of 2012 and wanted nothing more than a chance, a place to live and a job. I wanted to be loved I wanted my family. I had promised my beautiful 13 year old daughter that I would not run off again to some strange town. And that I would work toward a position in her life as daddy. Oh boy, what an oppertunity they offered. Though as they said "We have to go right now though" NO, I protested and shared my whole story with them, my daughter, everything. They insisted that the wages I would make working as a rancher would be the answer to all of my prayers and help me become the man and dad my daughter needed. Nobody wants to rent to a homeless guy, or give a bum a job right? I am right! I was down, so far down, beaten by life, discarded by society begging the lord for an answer begging for a job. I was willing to work for $2/hr 24 hours a day and once did for $5/hr. I was being offered a place to live in a house, rent free! and not only a job but a new career as a ranch hand!!!

Two weeks later, after spending 4 hours a day at Labor Ready hoping to be dispatched to work some day labor, I thought about digging through the Kentucky Fried Chicken dumpster to get the bag of cooked still warm chicken that Wino Joe had told me about, I was so hungry. The traffic noise from the freeway I was trying to rest under was too loud to sleep. A homeless woman who had resorted to prostitution to survive was murdered that day 10 feet from where I sat to smoke a cigarette earlier in the day. I was sick, cold, dying in an unloving world. So desperate and broken, so lost without a map. I called the lord forsaken ranch crying and was encouraged to hitchike the 750+ miles from Lynnwood to Spokane and they would pick me up and take me home to the Ranch. It took me 10 days to thumb the trip, it was October, it was snowing and cold. I didn't understand why they wanted me so bad but would not help me buy the $46 Trailways ticket, I had $19 dollars. They convinced me to donate it to the house.

Upon arrive at what looks like a tweeker village, wrecking yard, garbage dump goat farm all in one my things were search by an angry 20 something kid who cleans up well each weekend. My cell phone was missing, all of my bags were missing actually for a few days. I was told that for 90 days I was not allowed to contact anyone outside of the ranch. I was not allowed to call anyone, I had another phone in my pocket and before I was caught in the bathroom messaging friends and family on facebook I was able to triumphantly declare that I was safe and well at "the lords ranch". Oh how wrong I was. I was commanded to take the phone to the overseers chamber and empty my pockets. My shoes and socks were searched for communication devices. I was informed of the no leaving rule, and shown the signs at the road which state "you will be shot if you are seen walking away from this property" (not verbatim, though the message is clear!)

Some of the people who came in from the outside world during my 6 days in hell told stories of projects they were working on to help people in need. Men gave all of their money to what was clearly to me a scam, a hustle...evil people preying on humanity.

On the last night at 7:42 pm I lay in bed, sick from dinner (6 day stew) staring at the wall clock. I knew the time on it was wrong but it worked. It was still so loud in the living room. The nightly service I was skipping out as I had since night one when a man spoke about riding along side satan (REALLY) on a blue horse with red eyes after smoking crack. I guess maybe I didn't get it. I know evil, but I have never seen any blue horses, and I didn't believe he was being honest because of the crack and all. The past three nights I lay in bed starting at the clock. When the time read 7:07 the past 3 nights a pretty lady, a pastors wife I think came in with 2 boxes of doughnuts. The 4 overseers got 1 box and each doughnut in the remaining 1 box of donuts was cut into thirds for the 40+ men who lived in the house and chicken coup. They were hostees, the bread settled my stomach some.

Two other new guys were in the room muttering back and forth something which I couldn't make out. Those poor guys were so sick. We were all on what is called "days of grace" everyone I saw in 6 days was so sick during days of grace. I don't know why.

Why was she so late?

I trembbled and wiped the drool from my chin as I imagined how the warm chicken in the dumpster might have tasted had I gone that route. I thought about when Chrystal told me to not just pray but to "listen!" I thought about Chrystal, I though about my daughter Shayla, I thought about my bestfriend Shane, I cried. I sobbed out loud.

"Okay, okay, please? please...."

I didn't realize I was speaking aloud

"God? please come here to me God, okay. Okay God okay"

"DUDE! DAMMIT SHUT THE F**K UP!" one of the other guys tried to yell though his voice was weak.

I it was the same prayer for 5 days at the ranch

"God, please Lord, rescue me from the depths of hell, tell me what to do and it is done, put my feet up under me Lord, I accept your will in my life Lord, I am listening, God, my ears are open God to your will..."

7:43 I heard the voice of a black man and a keyboard, this man had traveled from the outside world to Elk, clearly not knowing, or perhaps he did know the depths of the hell he had set foot in.

The black man was blind, he called himself a prophet. He had come to share the word of God.

7:44 I stumbled on sore, swollen feet, stomach bubbling body aching as I climbbed out of bed. I could still taste the stew I had been feed the past several nights, i throwing up a little bit in my mouth had become a norm as I mustered the strength to climb out of bed.

7:47 Prophet with no eyes looked up to me immediately as the door swung open and stared deep into my eyes speaking instantly in one breath words I recall with exacting percission.

"Young man, you have a purpose. All though some may critisize your voice WILL bring joy to the masses! Let it be heard, Go and it be heard! DO YOU HEAR ME YOUNG MAN! LET YOUR WORDS BE HEARD, your voice, your word are a gift to the people, be heard...okay...be heard" I sobbed uncontrollably as I nodded yes. This man was blind and yet looked into my eyes! As prophet spoke a young clean cut white man who was with him extended his arms to me, in his hands a brand new pair of size 13 Pumas. He was removing them from his feet as I opened the door. The tag was still in tact.

"The Lord told me to stop and pick these up for you on the way here"

They were twos sizes to big.

He reached in his pocket and handed me som insoles.

"Once your feet heal, these will make them fit how you like them"

I thought 'no way, they are way to big' I couldn't believe someone in this house would stoop so far as to have these guys try to trick me into believing. I thought 'they must have told them about me'

I know that though was wrong

Ron, is a driver at the ranch. He picks up new guys. Ron pulled me aside and mentioned something about how smart I am, and offered to drive off of the property. It was a 20 minute drive. Ron did not speak a word though looked several times at me through the rear view mirror. A concerned look.

A woman who lived in her car picked me up 40 miles north of Spokane along side a snowy highway. She was going to visit her teenage son who was in drug treatment in Spokane. She spoke of how proud she was of him, said he was a big boy. She spoke of the last time she went to see him. Janet was so sad that she was unable to afford any clothes for him, and he had nothing. All she had was a pair of shoes somebody had left in her car.

"But he is so big now" she hoped they fit

I got out of Janets car with nothing but the clothes on my back, the contents of my pockets and a slightly worn pair of size 12 Brooks walking shoes.

"Tell him not to dry the Ecko shirt on high" She sobbed, nodding yes

"I Love You Janet"

We must love eachother people. The ranch will not last. The Lord will assure of it. We must Love!

I Love You All

This report was posted on Ripoff Report on 02/25/2013 05:57 PM and is a permanent record located here: http://www.ripoffreport.com/reports/ag-e/seattle-washington-98134/ag-e-was-homeless-and-preyed-not-prayed-on-by-cult-seattle-washington-1020176. The posting time indicated is Arizona local time. Arizona does not observe daylight savings so the post time may be Mountain or Pacific depending on the time of year.

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