Turning Pain Into Joy

Hello! I am Kennon, which means “from the bright valley.” When I was an infant, my dad called me his “Joy Boy!” While it would be fun to detail so many things about my life, you will probably most appreciate knowing, at least from this starting point, just a few landmark moments and defining details so that you can decide if it would be worthwhile to follow me and become friends.

For all that I am, I believe in bringing out the best in others and, as a new member of this community, I will look to keep that one simple thought in focus. There's a part of me that's extremely social and, therefore I say two simple words, “PEOPLE MATTER!” It's my slogan.

Sometimes I tell new acquaintances, “The first half of my life was defined by my upbringing in Asheville, North Carolina, followed by enjoying the second half of living in south-central Pennsylvania; and now I am looking to figure out where to enjoy the third 'half!’”

I am the youngest of three children and share a birthday 13 years apart with my older brother while my sister has always been 10+ years older than me. I am a father of six children – the oldest of which I adopted after marrying her mother. The five younger children came from that one marriage in my life.

On April 28, 1991, near the end of my days as a college student, I was water baptized to begin walking in newness of life as a Christian. In taking that step, I joined with a group of believers who would encourage me to walk worthy of my life's calling. One of those encouragers was the woman who would later become my wife on October 17, 1992. Unfortunately, there were several meltdowns, both in the family and the congregation to which I had become loyal. These difficulties came just a few years later when the size of my household had grown.

One of my life's most incredible moments came on the day of my false arrest in front of my children while I was in my driveway with them on May 25, 2000. The charges against me were four felony counts of CONCEALING THE WHEREABOUTS OF A CHILD (one count for each child involved – which excluded my oldest adopted daughter and the youngest daughter who was still in the womb). I had taken action in the weeks leading up to that day to protect the four middle children from harm – including the undue outside influences of a group often known as “The Twelve Tribes” – people widely recognized as an incredibly destructive cult. (You can research them yourself and see just how toxic they are!)

After being subject to a string of false reports made to police over a period of several months, there finally came the point where I deemed the family home unsafe for my children, and I had to take refuge with them on a camping trip. The children had been hidden from me for several days prior, between May 14-17. With a strong sense of urgency on May 17, I filed an Emergency Petition For Ex Parte' Custody Relief in court, looking for help as my children were still missing. I feared for my children, wanting to do whatever I could for their welfare. Accompanied by my long-time family friend who helped me research how to prepare the court documents, I awaited my opportunity to go before the judge. After waiting several minutes, I read a handwritten sentence on the bottom of my petition by the judge stating that the petition was being denied. This denial came on the heels of other futile attempts to obtain help from various “authorities” – which included visits with those at the District Attorney's office, a child custody attorney, and Children & Youth Services. When I finally saw my children again late on the night of May 17th, it was becoming abundantly clear to me that I had to round them up the next morning and remove them from what was a genuine and imminent threat that they could be taken away, never to be seen again. Those of the “Twelve Tribes” group were known for their lies, deceit, and grossly evil manipulations – especially when it comes to young children!

When I was arrested and being taken down to the police station, I sang praises to God to keep calm and maintain my sanity. Many months later I would learn from the children of a report that I supposedly sang “TO” the sexist, hate-mongering female cop, the affiant, who had put the cuffs on me, in front of my children and drove me to the place where she unsuccessfully attempted to get a statement from me. Numerous other assembled details were inaccurate. I was so stunned that people forcibly placed in my life could behave with so much bias! You might be amazed that my initial bail was at $100,000 – double that of two people in the same jurisdiction being charged with murder at the time.

My bail was also conditioned on my presumed guilt such that I was to have no contact with my children while the criminal matter was pending in court! Can you imagine how painful that period of my life was? What a surreal feeling I had on June 23, 2000 – the day my youngest child was born! The announcement of her birth was handwritten for me on about a 5” x 5” piece of paper at a guard station inside the county prison where I was held. It brought me to tears being unable to see my daughter born – especially knowing the incredible experience of my participation in the births of her older siblings!

Finally, after a long wait, I got my days in court in mid-January, 2001. The jury heard me testify as well as a member of the District Attorney's office who, among others, was called to the witness stand. After less than 30 minutes, the jurors, some of whom were laughing as they emerged from the deliberation room, found me innocent of all charges! Three of them were so irate that they called my attorney's office the week after the trial to ask, “How in the world did this case ever get this far?” While the finding of my innocence was pleasant, severe damage had already been done to the family with various child custody proceedings that occurred in the interim. To this very day, I aspire for greater inner healing for myself and for my children, the youngest of which is now age 17.

Months after the proceedings of the criminal case were completed, there came the time of my children's first custody trial. Their mother had come to me in the days and hours before the trial date to say that she was going to withdraw her case as the plaintiff while handing over the children to me. It had at least a slight feeling of yet another game – much like the games played leading to my false arrest and imprisonment. The trial date came and my wife's attorney put forth this plan to the judge.

The court took a recess as counsel for both parties went with the judge into his chambers for a conference. Subsequently came moments where each attorney met with their client in the hallway outside of the courtroom. From a considerable distance away, I could hear my children's mother blowing up at her attorney, yelling at him, repeatedly saying, “NO!” At the heart of this confrontation was her insistence that the children's father had to pay! There had been moments wherein she had expressed that not only could I have the children but also, integral with that decision, was that I must provide a livelihood for her – paying all of her bills.

Upon returning to the courtroom, my wife's attorney advised the court that she was withdrawing her motion for withdrawal of her case. The judge then rolled his eyes much like the rapidly rolling scoreboard of a pinball machine. In coordination with that swift change, her attorney successfully had the court force me to pay for her mental evaluation and home study – as well as those same evaluations for me. My attorney had already warned her attorney in the hall that if he pushed the issues, then he would be taking food out of the mouths of the children because, up to that time to reconcile and protect the children's interests, I had continued to provide voluntary financial support.

Going through the psychological “evaluation” was quite a roller-coaster experience as well. The assigned “psychologist” met with me and gave me an early initial impression that he was quite alarmed over the events that had already taken place in my family. At our final in-person meeting, he declared that his recommendation was going to be that the children should be with me. He dragged his feet to produce a report and found a means to flip his recommendation completely by the time it was written. When my attorney and closest friend looked at the report, they almost simultaneously said, “This guy is in love with her. It's as though he has been sleeping with her!” My friend, being quite expert himself at mind sciences, added, “He might as well have written this report with crayons!” Given these bizarre and extreme conditions, my children have had, and continue to have, much to overcome. While some progress seems to have been made in our lives, there remains hope for a much better outcome for myself and my children with heightened ability to reason and communicate.

This entire process cost tens of thousands of dollars – money that would otherwise have been much better invested in other ways for the children's welfare. I was placed miserably in debt.

My friend told me about a particular meeting of Concerned Fathers that he attended in Springfield, Massachusetts. A well-known and highly-appreciated attorney notified the group that he was leaving Custody to practice Criminal Law. When asked why, he quipped, “Criminals have rights; fathers have none.”

Other defining moments in my life came when I made shifts in my professional work. Would you like to know about the two times I was fired from jobs? Or how about the day I decided to hang up my stripes as a certified sports official? Or maybe you'd like to know about the day of transition from food delivery driver to marketing pro?

Let's wrap up this introduction by circling back to something mentioned at the top. Why did I tell a specific part of my life's story? Because YOU, my reader, matter! Because I have been through these particular hardships, I'm uniquely equipped to be an extraordinary friend and servant-leader for the right people. I believe there's something about what I have shared that translates and can make a huge difference for you. And, as your friend, I'm willing and able to figure it out together with you. Let me bring out your best, having been through this School of Hard Knocks. Let me ask you some tough questions with a smile. Let me fulfill my purpose in serving you. As one of my mentors would say, “May the rest of our lives be the best of our lives!”