A MAN who fled an alleged religious cult when he was just 15 years old has revealed what life inside the group was like.
It’s been nearly five decades since Richard Kiers fled The Move with just a shoebox of belongings, but he’s still processing the abuse he allegedly endured.
SWNSCurrent photo of Richard Kiers, who was ten years old when his parents joined a religious group called The Move in 1970[/caption]
SWNSRichard Kiers, age 12, on the way to live with The Move Group[/caption]
SWNSThe Kiers family’s log cabin on Blueberry Farm (pictured)[/caption]
He was ten years old when his parents joined the secretive sect, which still has thousands of members and follows a doctrine of separation from the world.
Living in a commune, he claims he was forced to build roads and homes by hand during 12-hour days of hard labor.
And was told he’d burn in hell forever if he refused.
“I have no idea why my parents joined,” Richard, now 64, from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, said.
“We lived in a community just outside of New Market, Ontario, basically market gardeners growing vegetables.
“My dad went down to South Carolina, where he met with Sam Fife and other leaders, and when he came back, we were told we were leaving our church, school, and family, completely segregated from everyone.”
What followed was a difficult period for Richard and his brothers and four sisters.
The Move was first founded in the 1960s as a religious sect by Sam Fife, a former country-and-western singer and ex-Baptist preacher, according to People.
He started the non-denominational Christian group after believing God spoke to him about being part of the chosen people who could prepare for the apocalypse.
“Sam Fife’s vision of the church was that we were headed for end times and that God was choosing a people out of the world to love one another and live together in sinless perfection,” former member Cara Cobb told People.
“I believe it developed into a cult,” says Cobb.
“It did not start out that way, but it did because people would blindly listen. Some people felt if Sam Fife said it, then it must be true.”
The Move dictated every aspect of their lives, and for Richard, that meant long hours of manual labor, minimal education, and psychological fear, he claims.
“For the first two years, we lived in Ontario and built our own school. But when we moved to northern British Columbia to the commune, school became less important,” he recalled.
“We did correspondence school as little as possible because they needed us for work.”
FORCED TO WORK
Life on the commune was also physically demanding, Richard revealed.
“When we moved there, there was no road into the farm we purchased. We had to build that road by hand, prepare the fields, and build cabins. There was lots of work to do.”
Children, including Richard, were allegedly expected to work like adults.
“At 12 years old, we worked 12-hour days to stay ahead of the sun,” he claimed.
“Winter comes quickly in Alberta and northern BC, so we had to build cabins and roads. We were not allowed to be kids.”
Fife, the group’s leader who later died in a plane crash, was revered by followers, but Richard’s view of him changed after leaving the group.
“Sam Fife was basically worshiped. After I left, I met him and found out he was just a normal person, charismatic but controlling.”
Fife dictated strict rules that governed every aspect of life in The Move, Richard said.
“He controlled who we could communicate with, what we could wear, read, or listen to — everything was dictated by him,” Richard added, noting Fife’s vision was enforced by a hierarchy of apostles.
SWNSRichard Kiers’ mom, Minnie, riding horseback at the farm[/caption]
Richard also wrote a book, Swindled by Faith, in which he claimed his time in The Move was marked by a combination of physical and psychological abuse.
“There was a lot of abuse of children, mostly psychological and physical. There was some sexual abuse, but we didn’t hear much about that,” he said.
“The physical abuse was extreme. Corporal punishment was common — lots of spankings, beatings, and serious punishment.”
He added that the psychological abuse endured was centered around fear.
“We were told every day that if we didn’t listen to the rules, we would go to hell. Hell was this terrible place where your skin would melt off and you’d burn forever. We were terrified.”
He also witnessed the toll this environment took on his father.
“My dad became very ill, and we were told it was God testing his faith,” he said.
“They refused to take him to the hospital. I remember the fear of that very clearly.”
At 15, Richard was deeply depressed and struggling to find a way out.
“I didn’t believe in what they were preaching anymore. I tried to find ways to get out, like getting a job off the farm, but they wouldn’t let me leave,” he explained.
Feeling trapped, he attempted suicide.
“I tried to hang myself, but the rafter broke. I suddenly realized I didn’t want to die — I just wanted to escape.
“So I packed a little shoe box with a set of clothes and headed for the hills in minus 30-degree weather,” Richard says.
“I walked three and a half miles to the highway and hitchhiked into town and went to Edmonton.
“My family all left over the next two to three to four years,” he says. “They all left after I did.”
HIS ESCAPE
Richard’s departure from The Move signaled the beginning of a mass exodus of young people from the group.
“A whole bunch of young people started leaving after I did, and the group fell apart after that,” he said.
Today, The Move has dwindled to around 4,000 members, a far cry from the 44,000 it had at its peak.
Reflecting on his experience, Richard advises caution for anyone considering joining a similar group.
“If you’re thinking about joining any group, religious or non-religious, pay attention to how the children are treated,” he warns.
“Children always seem to suffer the most in these groups.”
Years later, Richard found peace and happiness.
He has raised three sons and rebuilt his life as a commercial construction contractor, but he acknowledges the lasting impact of his time in The Move.
“Relationships have been tough. You don’t learn about communication, compassion, or love in a cult,” he explains.
“Now I’m full of love now, and I have lots of great friends. I’m doing very well, and I’m not suffering anymore.”
If you or someone you know is affected by any of the issues raised in this story, call or text the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988, chat on 988lifeline.org, or text Crisis Text Line at 741741.