This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2007, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
ST. GEORGE - With hammers, saws, drills and determination, about 15 young males displaced from their homes in a polygamous enclave are helping renovate "The House Just Off Bluff," where they hope to live while going to school or work until they can transition into their own places.
"All the [remodeling] work is being done by the boys," said Michelle Benward, clinical director of New Frontiers for Families, based in Tropic. "They do excellent work."
The "Lost Boys," as the young males are known, voluntarily leave or are asked to move out of the twin towns of Hildale, Utah, and Colorado City, Ariz., because they violated rules of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
Their plight has attracted national media attention - which led to potential jurors for Warren S. Jeffs' trial, under way in the 5th District Court in St. George, being asked what they had seen in the media about the "Lost Boys."
Jeffs' trial, on two counts of being an accomplice to rape related to a marriage he conducted in 2001, will resume this morning.
Jeffs became president of the FLDS church in 2002 and has held members to a strict behavior code based on early Mormon teachings. But just how many teens have left or been asked to leave the community because of that code is unclear.
Advocates and government authorities have used figures ranging from 400 to 2,000 over a time frame that ranges from six to 10 years or longer.
"This is not just starting with Warren Jeffs," said ex-FLDS member Isaac Wyler, 41, who still lives in the community. "Warren may have taken it to a new level but it was going on when I was a kid."
The acts that get teens in trouble include watching R-rated movies, listening to modern music and flirting with girls. Wyler said his younger brother was kicked out in 2001 by the former FLDS president Rulon T. Jeffs because he kissed a girl.
"He was done forever on that," Wyler said.
Some teenage boys and young men leave the twin towns, which is the church's home base, because they do not want to follow the faith or fear being assigned marriage to a girl they don't like. Advocates say they also are driven off to reduce competition for wives.
New Frontiers for Families is working with the Diversity Foundation, another nonprofit focused on the FLDS teens, to set up the home, which was given to the advocates by an anonymous donor.
Benward said when finished, the eight-bedroom home will be able to take up to 15 boys. It also will serve as a drop-in center.
But before anyone can live there, the nonprofit has to clear a hurdle with the city.
The commercially zoned area where the home is located allows for treatment but not transitional housing, said Linda Brooks, deputy city recorder for the city's planning commission.
Brooks said that the group has to get a zone change from the city before the home can open.
Among the challenges: There is no current zone that fits the home's planned use, some neighbors have complained and a city ordinance prohibits more than four unrelated people living in a residence.
Brooks said that Benward is working with the city attorney's office on the zone change - and has her own reason for hoping it gets approved.
About a year ago, Brooks and her husband opened their home to a displaced young man from the twin towns.
The 21-year-old was told to leave home by his older brothers in 2004 after he spoke out when Jeffs exiled their father. One of his younger brothers voluntarily left the community later, Brooks said.
Her husband met the young man while volunteering in a court-related program. Today, the young man is thriving in college.
During a tour of the house, Benward said that when the boys leave the FLDS community they migrate to other towns, where they are forced to fend for themselves.
That often means getting a construction job while staying in communal apartments, with up to 15 sleeping on the floors, or in their cars.
"When they come out, it is into a world of 'gentiles' they have been taught are in disfavor with God," said Benward. "They have a hard time interacting. They don't talk, but just look at you like they are filled with trauma and fear. It takes a long time for them to adjust."
Benward said beside their lack of social skills, most can't manage money and many get in trouble with the law for abusing drugs or alcohol.
"A lot of the time, if they got a ticket in Colorado City they were called before the [FLDS high council], where it was dealt with," said Benward. "So here [St. George], when they get a ticket, they just wait for someone to take them to church. They don't understand how to coordinate with the court."
Brigham Holm, 23, who voluntarily left Colorado City five years ago, is helping lay tile floors in the house.
He said because he lived part of his life in Salt Lake City, he was better adjusted when he left, but said that is not true for many who've been kicked out for innocuous reasons.
"Usually it's kids [kicked out] who do something like watch TV," said Holm.
The psychological grip that FLDS leaders have on followers, coupled with their isolation, makes it challenging to leave, Holm said.
Benward said the New Frontiers for Families program is funded with a $95,000 state grant that helps pay a stipend to Benward and two staff members. Everything else is donated, from the house to the food, furniture, paint, cabinets and appliances.
While organizers work through the city regulations, groups of Lost Boys continue working on the home. Jami Christensen, a staff member who stays there, said 15 to 20 show up to work on any given night.
"Sometimes it's a challenge," she said. "They can push the boundaries."
But she hopes the program is a success for the sake of the boys.
Once in the program, the young men will be given an education or work plan designed to help them become self-sufficient.
Participants will have an 11 p.m. curfew, cannot have unsupervised visits and must abstain from alcohol or drugs.
"These kids deserve the help," said Christensen. "They are good, hard workers doing what they need to do. They are our future."