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ABOUT US/HELPNEWS ARCHIVESDENVER BUSINESS NEWSDENVER CLASSIFIEDSCOLORADO COMMUNITYDISCUSSIONENTERTAINMENTLIFESTYLESMARKETPLACECOLORADO NEWS-Columbine News-News Columnists-JonBenet Ramsey-Legislature-National News-Obituaries-Politics-Stadium-World NewsOPINIONPROMOTIONSSPORTSDENVER WEATHERDPO MAINLaura's storyBy Susan GreeneDenver Post National WriterMarch 4, 2001 - Laura Chapman is one of several women who have left the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She since has moved to Longmont, where she has remarried and started a new life. These are some of her childhood memories, in her own words, shared during a series of interviews: Family history "I was born in Hildale, Utah, the 25th child of 31 total among my father's four wives. My mother was the third wife. Polygamy goes back on my mother's side clear to the days of Joseph Smith. That's eight generations of polygamy. My father was a convert. He was cheating on his first wife. Her way to put up with his sexual escapades and stay married was to convert. She handed him a Book of Mormon and said "If you don't believe what's in this book, then I'll divorce you.' That's how they got to be polygamists." Age 3 to 5 "My father would come home in the middle of the day while my mother was at work. He would take me into one of the bedrooms, shut the door and do whatever he pleased with me. None of my brothers or sisters dared come look for me." (Chapman's father declined to comment for this story.) Age 7 "That was when we started having to gather as a family and say morning statements in unison. They were messages like "Control your emotions,' "Do not aid, comfort nor associate with gentiles,' and "Do not question your file leader,' meaning your father." Age 8 "We all moved into one house, all the wives and their children. There were so many people around during the day that my father would come into my bedroom at night. ... The day I was baptized, I was handed my first Book of Mormon and told I was a member of the Kingdom of God. That night, my father came in my room, put his hand over my mouth as I laid next to my sister. He took me to another room. I tried to fight him off but he pulled my hair and back-handed me. I learned that it was best not to resist. I would just stare at the ceiling and tell myself that he may have my body, but he'll never have my soul." Age 11 "I went to public school until I was 11, then my parents pulled me out of fifth grade and taught me at home using scripture as textbooks. The school district never followed up. By that time, all the people I knew were polygamists. Anyone else I saw at the grocery store were gentiles - evil people who embraced selfish and sinful ways." Age 13 "I learned to sew then. And I started cooking for at least 30 people still living at home. Just like other girls in the group, I began saving baby items and kitchen tools in a hope chest, preparing for marriage and lots of babies." Age 16 "It was my 16th birthday and I had a date with my father, which was a family tradition. On the way to the restaurant he said he had a sex course that he wanted me to take to prepare me for life with a man. ... I was holding the door of the Cadillac attempting to jump out at 65 mph to get out of the abuse, my family, the religion and the arranged marriage that was about to come."Age 17 "I was supposed to be studying through a correspondence course by mail, but it was a scam. Pretty soon there was so much work thrown on me - sewing, cooking, canning fruit, laundry - that I couldn't finish. They had me teaching 18 second-graders at the home school my family started for polygamous children. Their fathers scoped me out to be their wife. It made me feel like a package to be sold." Age 18 "My sister was getting married. I was pretty old not to be married. After the wedding, my father took me to the prophet and said "Here's my daughter, she's ready to get married.' The prophet called in a man who I'd never seen before and they wanted to marry us right then. ... I was the first girl in the group to rebel. The prophet told me to think of someone else to marry. I wasn't in love with anybody. So I gave (the prophet) the name of a boy I barely knew. I was married a week later to him, his first wife. I never got a legal marriage. He said it didn't matter, that we were married in the eyes of God." Age 21 "I never really felt like I had monogamy or trust in my marriage because my husband continually pressured me to arrange for one of my younger sisters to become his second wife. He always reminded me that he was superior to me ... I had infertility problems. It took me three years before I had my first child. My husband's father would say things like "One child is worth 10 of the mother' and "Women are vessels to be worn out in childbirth.'" Age 26 "I had four kids by then, one every 19 months. Everyone told me I couldn't refuse (my husband) because he knows when a Spirit Child comes to Earth and that I must provide a body for that child. ... My milk was drying up and that was my only method of birth control, nursing. Suddenly I had no control over my life because I knew I'd get pregnant again right away. There was so much anger, fear and pain inside of me and I didn't know how to deal with it." Age 28 "That's when my husband began pressuring me all the time to accept him taking another wife. He said he had to live plural marriage in order to go to heaven. I felt that just because I was born female didn't mean I should be doomed to that kind of life. I knew then I had to leave. I filed for divorce two months later. "Once I left, I just remember some days feeling so incredibly free that I could have stood on my rooftop and yelled it, 'I'm free.' But some days it was so frightening. I was entering a world I knew nothing about. I was making decisions not only for my children for the first time, but for myself, too." Copyright 2001 The Denver Post. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Return to top - Polygamy prevails in Ariz. town- Laura Campbell's story- Worlds collided for teacher

Worn but legal tyres take almost 90 feet longer to stop compared with vehicles with tyres in good condition when driving at 70mph, according to research conducted by Professor Peter Wells of the Centre for Automotive Industry Research at Cardiff University.

"A tyre with just 1.6mm of tread could be one small lock up or pothole away from being illegal and this could even happen on the way back from the test centre, but the tyres may not be checked again until their next MOT.

All models were 18 years of age or older at the time of depiction. has a zero-tolerance policy against illegal pornography. This site contains adult content and is intended for adults aged 18 or over.

When I had exhausted the pictures from my dad's library, I started to read what was between the pictures: the articles, letters and advice columns. I was, without a doubt, the only kid in my grade six class who knew who Xaviera Hollander was (aka the Happy Hooker) and what her opinion was on dildos (pro). She regularly answered questions in Penthouse and Forum, and one of her responses changed my worldview forever. A woman wrote in to ask how to make her gay brother straight. The Happy Hooker told her that she couldn't change him and she shouldn't try. Being gay is just what some people were and, as the guy's sister, she should support and encourage him.

I'm not sure why I chose to believe an ex-jailbird and prostitute over famous scientists and peer pressure. Perhaps it was how loved (creased, dog-eared, softened) my parents' copy of Xaviera's autobiography was, or perhaps it was my dad's professed belief that prostitution should be legalized. Every evening, on his way to pick up my mom from work, he drove by Hookers' Row-the sidewalk outside the Plasma Center in Cincinnati-and he honked and waved. The girls always waved back. Perhaps, also, it was how kind and clear the Happy Hooker's advice was. It was almost motherly.

Eventually he went to jail for DUI and was confined to a bike or public transportation for two years. When he got his license back he still drove with a beer between his legs, but he was careful to stay below the legal limit.

In an attempt to encourage him, I asked a doctor to give it to my dad straight, no sugar coating. I felt this was important for my dad to hear, in order to move on to the next phase. It seemed imperative to get him out of the sterile hospital environment and closer to my sisters and I. When the doctor told my dad that he could have as little as two weeks to live, my dad turned quickly to me with a look that is hard to put into words. Shock. Panic. Disbelief. It was such a short moment, but it seemed to last for ages. Part of me felt like that nine-year-old kid in the back of the car, trying to hold it all together. I wanted to shut down completely, go into that numbed-out state I learned as a child. I was freaking out.


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