Your scariest LDS memory

[_just me]

Since the blessed season of Halloween is upon us let's share are scariest LDS memory/memories. . . .
So what are your LDS scary momories?

I think that my scariest LDS memory must be when a group of young men from my LDS boy scout troop/deacon's quorum grabbed me and dragged me out of the church building during a Stake-wide scout meeting, ostensibly to beat the s*** out of me on the lawn, because they thought that I was a homosexual (I am not, by the way).

I escaped, though.

Waaaaait. So, are you damned serious? OMG!

[Guest]

I think that my scariest LDS memory must be when a group of young men from my LDS boy scout troop/deacon's quorum grabbed me and dragged me out of the church building during a Stake-wide scout meeting, ostensibly to beat the s*** out of me on the lawn, because they thought that I was a homosexual (I am not, by the way).

I escaped, though.

Waaaaait. So, are you f*****g serious? OMG!

I am serious. And don't call me f*****g. Haha.

The whole story is rather embarrassing. I was still a bed-wetter at 13, as were many of my younger siblings. This might have had something to do with the beatings with a belt that our father regularly issued, but I can't be sure.

It was, therefore, a bad idea for me to go on an overnight campout (the "Klondike Derby") in hand-made snow caves with the other scouts at Maple Dell. But I went anyway. I slept in my sleeping bag, and my best friend slept in his sleeping bag next to me in the same cave. Unfortunately, the unthinkable happened that night. I peed. I awoke, shivering, and freaking out about how I was going to explain the yellow stain in the snow beneath my bag.

The others were still asleep. My pajamas were soaking, so I removed them. I knew that my best friend was double-bagged (one sleeping bag within another), for warmth. I didn't think that I was going to survive the night if I stayed in my wet, and solidifying, bag. So I whispered to him and told him I was really cold and asked him if I could please get into the outer bag (there was never any contact between us). At first, drowsy, he objected, but he finally gave in, probably just so he could go back to sleep. Sexual thoughts were the furthest thing from either of our minds, I'm sure.

It would have been a good idea for me if I had tried to arise earlier than everyone else, but I didn't. The next morning, the other scouts in the quorum discovered that I was in the outer bag. They assumed that my friend and I were in the very same bag, even though there was a bag separating us. They gleefully starting running around and shouting to the whole campsite that I and my friend were in the same bag.

From that day forwards, rumors starting going around the junior high that my friend and I were "faggots." I felt sorry for my friend as well; he never asked for any of it. The young men from my ward broke into my friend's locker at school and wrote, in permanent magic marker on the inside of his locker door, a love note to him that was allegedly from me. Unfortunately, my friend believed that the note was from me, in spite of my denials, and he decided that I really was homosexual. We didn't remain friends.

A couple weeks later, the incident at the Stake Center happened. Luckily, my family moved away to another ward, where nobody knew me, soon thereafter. Whew!

[_Dantana]

[quote="Rambo"]
Having dreams that I am still on a mission.
quote]




Well, that is a bit of a relief to hear that someone else has that nightmare too.

I've been free of Mormondom for twenty years now, and still once or twice a year have that dream. I'd trade three "still married to my first wife" and throw in a,"can't find the steering wheel while driving" dream....to be rid of that mission nightmare.

[_sock puppet]

I think that my scariest LDS memory must be when a group of young men from my LDS boy scout troop/deacon's quorum grabbed me and dragged me out of the church building during a Stake-wide scout meeting, ostensibly to beat the s*** out of me on the lawn, because they thought that I was a homosexual (I am not, by the way).

I escaped, though.

Waaaaait. So, are you f*****g serious? OMG!

I am serious. And don't call me f*****g. Haha.

The whole story is rather embarrassing. I was still a bed-wetter at 13, as were many of my younger siblings. This might have had something to do with the beatings with a belt that our father regularly issued, but I can't be sure.

It was, therefore, a bad idea for me to go on an overnight campout (the "Klondike Derby") in hand-made snow caves with the other scouts at Maple Dell. But I went anyway. I slept in my sleeping bag, and my best friend slept in his sleeping bag next to me in the same cave. Unfortunately, the unthinkable happened that night. I peed. I awoke, shivering, and freaking out about how I was going to explain the yellow stain in the snow beneath my bag.

The others were still asleep. My pajamas were soaking, so I removed them. I knew that my best friend was double-bagged (one sleeping bag within another), for warmth. I didn't think that I was going to survive the night if I stayed in my wet, and solidifying, bag. So I whispered to him and told him I was really cold and asked him if I could please get into the outer bag (there was never any contact between us). At first, drowsy, he objected, but he finally gave in, probably just so he could go back to sleep. Sexual thoughts were the furthest thing from either of our minds, I'm sure.

It would have been a good idea for me if I had tried to arise earlier than everyone else, but I didn't. The next morning, the other scouts in the quorum discovered that I was in the outer bag. They assumed that my friend and I were in the very same bag, even though there was a bag separating us. They gleefully starting running around and shouting to the whole campsite that I and my friend were in the same bag.

From that day forwards, rumors starting going around the junior high that my friend and I were "faggots." I felt sorry for my friend as well; he never asked for any of it. The young men from my ward broke into my friend's locker at school and wrote, in permanent magic marker on the inside of his locker door, a love note to him that was allegedly from me. Unfortunately, my friend believed that the note was from me, in spite of my denials, and he decided that I really was homosexual. We didn't remain friends.

A couple weeks later, the incident at the Stake Center happened. Luckily, my family moved away to another ward, where nobody knew me, soon thereafter. Whew!

Sorry to hear this, Cardinal Biggles.

I had a friend in the next ward who changed dramatically at age 12 and about 7 months. Two years later, he told me about an incident at an overnight outing of his scout troop. There were only 5 go, and it was only 1/2 mile outside of our little town, and on property along a creek, owned by one of the 5's parents. There was no adult, and the other four started circle jerking. When my friend wouldn't join in, they grabbed him and one by one anally raped him.

I knew all four of the others and always had my doubts about it having actually happened. Until about 35 years later. One of those four attended my friend's funeral, and afterwards asked me how his life had been in those 35 years. I explained it had not been good. This guy kept asking questions, lamely. Finally, he said he needed to get something off his mind and asked if I would listen. He started crying almost as soon as he told me the same story my friend had told me decades earlier, only from the perspective of being one of the perpetrators.

My friend had never wanted to be in boy scouts, but his parents forced him because it was an LDS thing, the troop was defined as the 12-13 year old's in his ward. Essentially, his parents forced him to go on an outing, because of their LDS beliefs, and it resulted in their son being raped, by four other 'good' LDS boys--of which 3 went on missions, and I know one has been a bishop and SP. And that is not the one who told me what had happened after my friend's funeral.

I'm not a fan of the boy scout program, and I don't think any religion should encourage, in the name of god, any young boys to participate in it.

By the way, this is the worst LDS nightmare for me, it wasn't even my own experience, but it haunts me much more than even the weird crap that goes on in the temples.

[_quark]

Setting up an appointment with the Exec sec to confess an egregious sin (M) to the bishop at the ripe age of 15. Doing this while believing parents and friends would find out later because sacrament would be withheld. Freakin scary!

[_Willy Law]

Might be two of the most upsetting stories I have ever heard on this thread. If nothing else it has convinced me that camping is the tool of Satan

[_quaker]

You never know what 11-14 year old boys are going to do out camping. They don't think much of it until down the road, and by then they realize how ridiculous they were and ain't going to tell anybody.

Me and my friends from back then never bring up those stupid stories. We weren't sticking our peckers in one another's butts, though.

[_Some Schmo]

Man, these are awful Boy Scout stories. I always hated scouts, but now I suddenly realize my reasons weren't as good as they could have been. Unreal.

I remember once being in some Sunday school class at the age of 12 or so and I kept leaning back on this chair. This hardass teacher told me to quit it, but I was doing it subconsciously out of habit. All of a sudden, he kicked the chair out from under me, and I slammed the back my head on this wood finish on the classroom wall before landing hard on the floor. It wasn't exactly scary, but I do remember thinking this guy was a damned asshole, and what the hell was he doing teaching kids.

Doesn't the church make people wonderful?

[_Doctor CamNC4Me]

Lessee... I recall very clearly all the Alpha males having all the sex they wanted with all the SLUTTY Mormon WOMEN who just laughed at me when I would try to ask them to dance at CHURCH dances. These Mormon women couldn't help themselves and would be led out to the PARKING lot where they would drink and give the Alpha males BLOW JOBS. Then these Mormon women would come back to the dance like they hadn't done anything wrong, and they would attend SUNDAY SCHOOL like they never were in the parking lot having sweaty sex with Alpha males. ALL Mormon WOMEN ARE WHORES WHO LOVE THE SMELL OF ALPHA MALE PHEROMONES!!!!

[_MrStakhanovite]

So what are your LDS scary memories?

#1 Having someone explain casually explain to you that the lost ten tribes of Israel are, in fact, hiding underneath the earth’s crust via an entrance at the North Pole and doing so in such a way that made it seem like they were telling you the obvious.

#2 Meeting Dr. Shades in person.

# 3 Meeting Dr. Shades in person, in John Larsen’s house.

#4 The broad shouldered sweet sister at Temple Square telling me about hand carts.

#5 Discovering that I was not Darth J’s first.

#6-#24 Droopy.