Stolen Innocence - Lisa Pulitzer [101]
Though our lives in Salt Lake were never perfect, it was the only home I knew, and the only place I wanted to be.
When we arrived down in Short Creek, the landscape was quite different from what I was used to. At first I found the inescapable red rocks overpowering, but in time I grew to appreciate its beauty.
From the start, life at Uncle Fred’s was difficult with so many kids from different families thrown together. Suddenly I was surrounded by a large group of girls aged twelve to eighteen, and at times the cliques that formed could be vicious. Here is a large group of my stepsisters outside of Uncle Fred’s house. It was common for girls of the same family to make matching dresses, as seen here.
The move down to Uncle Fred’s was hard on all of us and it grew even more difficult after Fred married Mom. As a result, we all grew incredibly close, relying on each other to get us through the tough time.
Celebrating my eighth-grade graduation with my mom. I was so proud when I graduated, but later that summer Warren would order all FLDS members to leave the Colorado City public school. Eighth grade would be the last I would complete.
The morning of my wedding day, the worst day of my life. My face is so red from all the crying I’d been doing.
Here I am with Allen on our wedding day. My stepsisters and the other mothers at Fred’s house worked for hours to turn my old bedroom into a “Honeymoon Hideout.” It was a nice gesture, but their effort only emphasized the darkness I felt inside.
This picture was snapped right as Allen picked me up to carry me across the threshold. I covered my face to hide my tears.
“Allen and Elissa sealed for time and all eternity.”
Several weeks after my wedding I received an encouragement box from Fred for my fifteenth birthday. Inside was a baby doll, and though no one said a word, the message was clear: the pressure was on for me to have children.
I often took refuge from Allen with my sisters and my mom, staying with them whenever I could so that I would not have to see him.
This photo of me and my sister was taken on my sixteenth birthday.
Here I am in my Ford Ranger truck driving around some of my stepsisters and some other girls. Eventually that truck would become my home, and I would spend my nights there to avoid sharing a bed with Allen.
By my seventeenth birthday, things with Allen had grown increasingly unstable. While my mom tried to cheer me up, little could distract me from my problems.
My first Christmas morning shared with Lamont in Oregon.
The last time I saw my mother was the day after Fred’s funeral, where she met and spent a few stolen moments with her grandchild. This photo was taken a few short months after I left the FLDS.
This picture, taken with Lamont and our two children, was snapped not long before Warren’s trial began.
Though Warren and his defense attorney Tara Isaacson made for an intimidating pair, I did my best to retain my composure. As she put her hand on his shoulder, she said the words “This man is innocent.”
During his testimony at trial Allen asked the judge if he could stand. While I was not surprised by this outlandish request, it caused a great many whispers in the courthouse.
When the verdict had been delivered, I decided to break my silence with the press and make a public statement. The journey to that point had been a struggle, but for the first time in months, I breathed a sigh of relief.
I carried this photo of Sherrie and Ally in my purse every day of the trial to give me strength when I felt weak. Even now, I still bring it with me wherever I go to remind myself of what I am fighting for.
Today Lamont and I live with our two children. It has been a difficult road, but together we’re building a better future for our kids and praying to God to help us get there.
As fall approached, a rift grew as some people—particularly those in Canada—disagreed with Warren’s accusations about Uncle Wink. Meanwhile,