I was in this program (Samoa) when i was 17.
It was an odd way to be dealt with as a child.
I wasn’t there very long, and thought that the Brightway Adolescent Hospital in St George Utah that served as a classification center for the corporations that owned these separate programs for profit that harmed children in countless ways.
Not only was it very cult-like in the most off the wall ways, it was very dehumanizing.
I remember being one of the “older” kids in the program and feeling really bad for the kids that were a lot younger who were preyed on by just about everyone in the place.
When i was sent to western Samoa, i considered running when i was at the airport in hawaii but knew i wouldn’t get far with no money or way to live.
Once i got to Samoa i remember realizing that i could never escape from there.
I got pretty withdrawn and wouldn’t participate in the daily activities.
Unlike most kids , i had my GED so didn’t need to be “in school” like most of them did everyday.
I finally started to play the programs game because without that you cannot eat or get any privacy for showering or the restroom.
And the food was inedible.
The privacy issues would be illegal in America.
There was 2 toilets for 60 kids to use.
They would make us fill up bags of sands and carry them to other side of the cove and dump them out and repeat.
This was called work duty every morning.
Its was pointless basically , just torture.
I had contracted a serious viral infection when i was there and was basically left to die.
I had to literally assault a staff member to be seen by Brian, who was the head Samoan who was an american.
It was a long time ago but i one day realized how i could get my parents to stop going along with it and that was to ignore them.
I only wrote one letter and then refused after that.
We got to leave the grounds of the camp when we got to a certain level and it was to get out of there and break up the monotony of basically being incarcerated and to eat something besides ramen noodles and for most people, getting a phone call to call your parents was the thing.
I never called once.
I refused to speak to either one of my parents.
It eventually worked because my parents took me out of the program in march when i was supposed to remain there until i turned 18 and that was like 5 more months down the line.
I basically got my time cut in half by outsmarting my psycho parents.
Others weren’t as lucky.
DECLARATION UNDER PENALTY OF PERJURY
PURSUANT TO 28 USCA 1746
I, James B. declare and state as follows:
Name of Program:
Paradise Cove
Location of Program:
Western Samoa
Period of Internment (MM/YY to MM/YY)
11/01/1994 to 03/06/1995
I give WWASPSurvivors permission to use this statement. I declare under penalty of perjury that the foregoing is true and correct. Executed on(date: MM/DD/YY):
10/01/19
(SPECIAL NOTE: STATUTE DOES NOT REQUIRE NOTARY]
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I got to Western Samoa Christmas Eve 1994. I’ll never forget it because they had a pig running around wild in The cove and told us kids that it was our job to catch it and kill it so we can eat Christmas ham. The next morning I remember waking up thinking what the hell did I get into as I waited to use the restroom. There were about 25 in front of me all with food poisoning. This time period of my life was an eye-opener. As much as my parents claim to have loved me, no parent in their right mind would send their child to this place. After being there about 6 months not being able to call home or move anywhere off the first level because I refused to bow down to their demands. Many times I was given the option of 12 standing or 24 sitting which is their version of segregation where you were sitting in a grass Hut with broken up Coral as a floor for 24 hours straight with a chaperone or 12-hour standing. I refused to do anything to make it easier for them. So I sat for 24 hours and during that 24 hours I had a grown man beat my ass worse than anybody has in my life and then they marched me through the camp in front of all the other kids so they could see what happened. My eye black my nose bleeding. My shirt ripped almost off. My body cuts on my legs from being thrown on the coral. I was 14 years old and if anybody knows anything about Samoans most of them look like they’re weightlifters. This guy was no exception. Of course I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of beating me psychologically. So after I got my ass handed to me at 14 by a grown man I told him that’s okay because his wife and the kids were going to come see me later and make it all better. Yeah, which you can imagine happened. It went all over again. The reason these people have this program in Western Samoa is because they don’t have to adhere to American law. They can get away with this violence towards children cuz nobody’s going to stop them. This place was a nightmare in Paradise. My wife is the only person I’ve ever really told all that happened there. Of course my behavior didn’t change. When I got home the trauma I went through I tried to forget with drugs and anytime somebody would confront me on any little thing I would get violent and push them away. I trusted nobody. My family betrayed me and sent me to hell on Earth because they didn’t know how to deal with me. I will return to Western Samoa as an adult, I want to see The cove one more time through free eyes through eyes that I’ve seen so much in my life that one last time. I want to see this place but enjoy it for the paradise it is and not let it defeat me. Today I am sober with the most beautiful and supportive woman whom I don’t deserve but am grateful for everyday. Today I choose not to let history write my future.