The women’s reports to law enforcement had so much detail that it was difficult for me to read. That they were just little girls when it happened. It is alleged that a man known to many as the “fun uncle” had sexual contact with them under their skirts and tops. It happened at church, while swimming in the lake, and while playing hide and seek. They were about 5 years old, according to a police report. Some people remember what they were wearing when it happened. Fluffy colorful skirt. Jeans with purple flowers.
But by the time Minnesota Star Tribune co-reporter Andy Mannix and I obtained these accounts, which spanned from the early 1990s to the 2010s, the girls’ abuser, Clint Massey, had already pleaded guilty to four counts of felony sexual conduct with victims under the age of 13. In March of this year, he was sentenced to seven and a half years in prison. Perhaps the case is over.
But we continued to hear from victims and alleged victims, former church members, investigators and prosecutors that this outcome falls far short of true accountability. They say Massie was a symptom of larger problems within the Old Apostolic Lutheran Church (OALC), which he and the victims were a part of. They said leaders of this little-known faith tradition pressured victims to forgive Massey, then forget about the abuse and never talk about it again. In some cases, these “forgiveness sessions” took place between the children and Massey. One girl described the fear she felt when Massey hugged her while her father and preacher looked on.
These sessions allowed Massey to avoid arrest and prosecution for years. Prosecutors who prosecuted the case say attempts to silence the victims continued even after they became adults and came forward to law enforcement.
“This was like a fucking machine that was basically trying to roll the girls over,” said St. Louis County Assistant Prosecutor Mike Ryan.
That feeling hit me especially hard the day I received a 40-minute video of an interview with two OALC preachers and a sheriff’s detective from St. Louis County, where Duluth is located. My attention was drawn to Darryl Bruckelmeyer, a preacher and leader at a church in Duluth. Several of Mr. Massey’s victims claimed that they or their parents disclosed the abuse to Mr. Brückelmeyer, but that he did nothing more than a forgiveness session.
We wanted to sit down with Brückelmeyer and ask him not only about his involvement in the Massey incident, but also about his church, its beliefs, and its practices. However, he declined to comment or answer a detailed list of questions. A spokesperson for Woodland Park OALC in Duluth also said in a statement that the church was “in full compliance with the law in the incidents referred to and this is a matter of legal record.” He declined further comment. Massey also did not respond to a request for comment.
I mean, this video was the first and only time I heard Brückelmeyer explain himself in his own words. Here’s what struck me when I watched the recording, and what helped me understand the mechanisms that allowed repeated sexual abuse to continue as an open secret.
Massey’s preacher knew about the abuse
I expected Bruckelmeyer to deny what he had heard about Massey’s abuse. But he didn’t.
“How many female victims do you think have come forward and said something to you?” asked Detective Sergeant Adam Klefman.
“There are only a few cases,” Brückelmeier replied. “one two three.”
It’s not every day you come across a recording of someone who admitted to knowing about child abuse and doing little.
Brueckelmeyer implied that he had misunderstood Minnesota’s mandatory reporter law (although another detective had explained that law to him only three years earlier) and that he had “warned” Massey to stay away from the children. He insisted they were not trying to “cover up” Massey and encouraged the victim to go to law enforcement.
But his choice of words also struck me. “We’re not defending one or the other.”
Kimberly Rowe, the church’s attorney and crisis manager, said there may not be a legal obligation to report child sexual abuse because the church’s preachers are unpaid. Asked if he believed the preachers were required reporters under Minnesota law, Lowe would only say that the language of the law was unclear.
Sergeant Adam Klefman (right) of the St. Louis County Sheriff’s Office was the investigator on the Clint Massey case. Leila Navidi/Minnesota Star Tribune
Church policy was inconsistent with Minnesota law
At one point, Brückelmeyer pulled out two pieces of paper and handed them across the table to investigators. It was a list of “tools to prevent violence, harassment, and sexual abuse” published by the Old Apostolic Lutheran Church in America.
“The church has guidelines that are said and taught to protect both,” Brückelmeier explained.
Many of the guidelines made sense, including education and victim counseling. However, when I obtained a copy of the document, I focused on the section of the policy that seemed to describe forgiveness sessions. “If harm occurs: A separate conversation with the victim…if possible, a separate conversation with the abuser.Then, but only when appropriate, both parties talk together.”
The document did not mention mandatory reporting laws, instead appearing to give preachers wide discretion over whether to engage law enforcement.
The moment I saw that document slide across the table, it was clear to me that this issue went beyond Minnesota. OALC has 33 locations in the United States and Canada. Over months of reporting, we spoke with more than a dozen alleged victims in Delaware, Michigan, Wyoming, Washington and South Dakota, some of whom named other church members as possible perpetrators.
We plan to continue this report in the future.
Deliberate isolation from the modern world
At one point in the video, Mr. Klefman asked Mr. Bruckelmeyer if he was aware of how sexual abuse scandals were occurring in other churches. Specifically, he said that once one victim comes forward, it is common for more victims to come forward as well. He cited a recent local example in which a youth pastor at Duluth’s Vineyard Church was convicted of having a felony sex act with an underage parishioner.
But Brückelmeier said he was not familiar with the incident.
I was shocked by the lack of understanding shown by some church leaders and members regarding the effects of sexual assault on children and their ignorance of other similar sexual abuse scandals. However, it seemed closely related to the way OALC members dissociate themselves from certain aspects of modern life.
Former members said dance, music, movies and television are all considered sinful. One former church member told an interviewer that he heard Taylor Swift’s songs as a child and was desperate to find another church member to confess or risk hell.
We attended a Sunday service in Duluth at the invitation of a church spokesperson and were provided with a literature document that described some of OALC’s history and philosophy.
“As Christians, we want to follow the example of Jesus and live simple and modest lives, whether in our clothes, our homes, or our way of life,” the booklet says. “We do not believe that it is right or necessary to indulge in worldly pleasures, alcohol or other drugs. Our friendship in the church goes beyond that.”
Brückelmeyer was standing at the podium with the other preachers, but he did not want to talk to us. So I tried to incorporate as much as I could: hymns sung unaccompanied, scarves tied around women’s heads, toys in children’s hands.
During the three-hour service, I sat in the pews, fascinated by the glimpses into a faith tradition and lifestyle I knew nothing about before. As I looked at these families, especially young mothers with their daughters in their arms, I couldn’t help but think again about what I had read in the police reports, especially the claims that this sexual abuse affected multiple generations of families. What these women and girls went through, not only the abuse but the silence that followed, shocks the conscience. We wrote this story to break that silence. Maybe we can prevent something like this from happening again.
