Kynisk Sokol
Ancient Mariner
Minister faces five years in prison after killing boy during exorcism
Terrance Cottrell, an autistic boy who hated to be touched, was suffocated by a minister who attempted to cure the child of his 'demons.'
By Lisa Sweetingham
Court TV
Ray Hemphill, a self-described minister of a Milwaukee strip-mall church, thought he was doing the Lord's work when he forcefully pinned an autistic 8-year-old boy and prayed over him in a series of "spiritual healings" last summer.
On a Friday night in August 2003, Terrance Cottrell's mother and two other women at the Faith Temple Church of the Apostolic Faith prayed and sang as they helped the minister lay the boy on the floor and restrain his legs and arms as he struggled, kicked and scratched.
Hemphill, who reportedly weighs more than 150 pounds, sprawled across Terrance "to keep him from hitting his head on the floor, because he was bucking," a church official later told reporters.
After two intense hours of casting out what he believed were evil demons, Hemphill arose, his shirt soaked in sweat, and realized that Terrance wasn't moving anymore.
In fact, at some point, the boy had urinated on himself and his face had turned blue.
The doe-eyed child, who was set to start third grade the next week, had suffocated on the church floor, while his mother and onlookers helped an ignorant man of the cloth perform a pointless exorcism.
On Tuesday, Hemphill will stand trial on charges of felony child abuse. If convicted, he faces up to five years in prison.
Though the medical examiner ruled the death a homicide, District Attorney Michael McCann pursued the lesser charge of felony child abuse, because he said it would be difficult to prove Hemphill knew his actions presented a great likelihood of causing Terrance's death.
"It was a gutless and, I thought, immoral decision on his part," said Annie Laurie Gaylor of The Freedom from Religion Foundation, a nonprofit group in Madison, Wisc., dedicated to issues of separation of church and state. Upon hearing of the charges, FFRF members commenced a letter-writing campaign to the DA's office, ultimately to no effect.
Ray Hemphill faces five years in prison for the death of Terrance Cottrell.
Further complicating the case against Hemphill is a little-known "Treatment through Prayer" statute designed to protect Christian Scientist parents.
Under the state law, anyone who "provides a child with treatment by spiritual means through prayer alone for healing in accordance with the religious method of healing" is not guilty of child abuse.
"It's just a travesty," Gaylor told Courttv.com. "The message it sends is that in Wisconsin you can kill kids with faith healing and we won't charge you with the full force of the law."
Hemphill was banned from performing exorcisms, but it's not clear whether he has accepted any personal responsibility for Terrance's death.
"He's very upset that the child was called to God," Thomas Harris, Hemphill's attorney, told Courttv.com. "I think that's how he would put it."
In fact, Harris said he likely will argue that the medication Terrance was taking for his disorder, not Hemphill's physical crushing of the boy, was what actually killed him.
Medication factor
At the time of his death, Terrance was on Ziprasidone, an antipsychotic drug that is used to treat schizophrenia, rage and aggression. Ziprasidone can alleviate symptoms of hearing voices, seeing things, and sensing things that are not there, as well as severe withdrawal from family and friends.
In very rare cases — some studies say less than 1 percent — it can cause neuroleptic malignant syndrome, a potentially fatal reaction marked by fever, sweating, unstable blood pressure, stupor, muscular rigidity and autonomic dysfunction.
Autism manifests itself in unique ways, and the severity of Terrance's disorder will likely be revealed in court. The range of behaviors can be frustrating and heartbreaking for parents. Unresponsiveness; tantrums; unwillingness to cuddle or be touched; difficulty in expressing needs; over-sensitivity or under-sensitivity to pain; little or no eye contact; and screaming, laughing, crying and showing distress for no apparent reason are all typical symptoms.
To a deeply religious person with no faith in the medical model, such children might appear to be, literally, little devils.
Though Terrance's treatments and special-education classes were paid for by Social Security, his mother, Pat Cooper, was single, unemployed and in her late 20s. She likely had few places to turn for help when she met a member of Hemphill's flock in a doctor's waiting room, months before her son was accidentally asphyxiated.
Prosecutors would not return calls for comment, and Hemphill's attorney declined to speak in detail about the case.
According to early accounts from the Chicago Tribune, when churchgoer Tamara Tolefree met Cooper, she struck up a friendship by getting the young mother to pray for Terrance. Soon, Cooper was bringing the child to preacher Ray's services at the Faith Temple Church in Milwaukee's north end.
According to the criminal complaint, Hemphill told authorities he had been ordained as a minister by his brother, David Hemphill, the pastor of the independent storefront church. He stated that he needed no official theological training in order to become a "church elder," as he had "received his calling from the Lord."
In the three weeks leading up to Terrance's death, Hemphill led private prayer sessions at about 7 p.m. on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights, in an effort to cast away the demons he believed were causing the boy's afflictions.
The final deadly session, on Aug. 22, 2003, was Hemphill's ninth "religious service."
Medical examiners, who also found extensive bruising on the back of Terrance's neck, later determined that the pressure applied to the boy's chest had prevented him from breathing.
Hemphill was arrested the next morning and released a few days later on a $5,000 signature bond, meaning he did not have to post the money but would forfeit that amount if he violated the judge's main condition of his bail — no more exorcisms or spiritual healing of any kind.
Shortly afterward, the city revoked the church's right to operate in an area zoned for industrial use.
Casting out demons
It seems implausible that some still view mental illness through the demonology paradigm popular in the 13th century. But according to Rita Swan, president of Children's Healthcare is a Legal Duty, 20 states have laws that protect those who commit felony crimes against children, based on a religious defense.
In 1977, Swan and her husband, Doug, were devoted Christian Scientists. They were devastated when their 16-month-old son Matthew died of spinal meningitis, after Christian Scientist practitioners assured them that his illness could be healed with spiritual "treatments."
In 1983, Swan started CHILD, Inc., a nonprofit aimed at protecting children from abusive religious and cultural practices, especially religion-based medical neglect.
The watchdog group actively pursues legislation to repeal religious exemptions, including in states like Delaware and West Virginia, where some laws allow a religious defense to the murder of a child.
"Most states have tried to change their laws in recent years, so that prosecutors don't have to prove 'intent to harm' to get a conviction with serious prison time when kids die," Swan said. "But many children have died and the state has taken no action because of these laws."
Swan cites Oregon — a state that currently has a religious defense to homicide by abuse — where 80 children have died at the hands of faith healers.
In Rhode Island, at the time of this writing, a bill awaits the governor's signature that would delete religious exemptions for parents and guardians who do not provide medical treatment for their children based on religious beliefs.
But there are still religious defenses to manslaughter and murder of a child in Iowa, Ohio, Delaware, West Virginia and Arkansas.
In Wisconsin, without legislative action, it appears that even a guilty verdict in Hemphill's trial would have little effect on the severity of charges imposed in future cases of children accidentally killed in the name of God.
When the DA was asked by reporters about Wisconsin's treatment-through-prayer statute, he said he believed the law should be repealed.
"I've been aware of that provision and concerned about it for a number of years," McCann said. "I think it has the potential for mischief."
Court TV will air the trial live.
Terrance Cottrell, an autistic boy who hated to be touched, was suffocated by a minister who attempted to cure the child of his 'demons.'
By Lisa Sweetingham
Court TV
Ray Hemphill, a self-described minister of a Milwaukee strip-mall church, thought he was doing the Lord's work when he forcefully pinned an autistic 8-year-old boy and prayed over him in a series of "spiritual healings" last summer.
On a Friday night in August 2003, Terrance Cottrell's mother and two other women at the Faith Temple Church of the Apostolic Faith prayed and sang as they helped the minister lay the boy on the floor and restrain his legs and arms as he struggled, kicked and scratched.
Hemphill, who reportedly weighs more than 150 pounds, sprawled across Terrance "to keep him from hitting his head on the floor, because he was bucking," a church official later told reporters.
After two intense hours of casting out what he believed were evil demons, Hemphill arose, his shirt soaked in sweat, and realized that Terrance wasn't moving anymore.
In fact, at some point, the boy had urinated on himself and his face had turned blue.
The doe-eyed child, who was set to start third grade the next week, had suffocated on the church floor, while his mother and onlookers helped an ignorant man of the cloth perform a pointless exorcism.
On Tuesday, Hemphill will stand trial on charges of felony child abuse. If convicted, he faces up to five years in prison.
Though the medical examiner ruled the death a homicide, District Attorney Michael McCann pursued the lesser charge of felony child abuse, because he said it would be difficult to prove Hemphill knew his actions presented a great likelihood of causing Terrance's death.
"It was a gutless and, I thought, immoral decision on his part," said Annie Laurie Gaylor of The Freedom from Religion Foundation, a nonprofit group in Madison, Wisc., dedicated to issues of separation of church and state. Upon hearing of the charges, FFRF members commenced a letter-writing campaign to the DA's office, ultimately to no effect.
Ray Hemphill faces five years in prison for the death of Terrance Cottrell.
Further complicating the case against Hemphill is a little-known "Treatment through Prayer" statute designed to protect Christian Scientist parents.
Under the state law, anyone who "provides a child with treatment by spiritual means through prayer alone for healing in accordance with the religious method of healing" is not guilty of child abuse.
"It's just a travesty," Gaylor told Courttv.com. "The message it sends is that in Wisconsin you can kill kids with faith healing and we won't charge you with the full force of the law."
Hemphill was banned from performing exorcisms, but it's not clear whether he has accepted any personal responsibility for Terrance's death.
"He's very upset that the child was called to God," Thomas Harris, Hemphill's attorney, told Courttv.com. "I think that's how he would put it."
In fact, Harris said he likely will argue that the medication Terrance was taking for his disorder, not Hemphill's physical crushing of the boy, was what actually killed him.
Medication factor
At the time of his death, Terrance was on Ziprasidone, an antipsychotic drug that is used to treat schizophrenia, rage and aggression. Ziprasidone can alleviate symptoms of hearing voices, seeing things, and sensing things that are not there, as well as severe withdrawal from family and friends.
In very rare cases — some studies say less than 1 percent — it can cause neuroleptic malignant syndrome, a potentially fatal reaction marked by fever, sweating, unstable blood pressure, stupor, muscular rigidity and autonomic dysfunction.
Autism manifests itself in unique ways, and the severity of Terrance's disorder will likely be revealed in court. The range of behaviors can be frustrating and heartbreaking for parents. Unresponsiveness; tantrums; unwillingness to cuddle or be touched; difficulty in expressing needs; over-sensitivity or under-sensitivity to pain; little or no eye contact; and screaming, laughing, crying and showing distress for no apparent reason are all typical symptoms.
To a deeply religious person with no faith in the medical model, such children might appear to be, literally, little devils.
Though Terrance's treatments and special-education classes were paid for by Social Security, his mother, Pat Cooper, was single, unemployed and in her late 20s. She likely had few places to turn for help when she met a member of Hemphill's flock in a doctor's waiting room, months before her son was accidentally asphyxiated.
Prosecutors would not return calls for comment, and Hemphill's attorney declined to speak in detail about the case.
According to early accounts from the Chicago Tribune, when churchgoer Tamara Tolefree met Cooper, she struck up a friendship by getting the young mother to pray for Terrance. Soon, Cooper was bringing the child to preacher Ray's services at the Faith Temple Church in Milwaukee's north end.
According to the criminal complaint, Hemphill told authorities he had been ordained as a minister by his brother, David Hemphill, the pastor of the independent storefront church. He stated that he needed no official theological training in order to become a "church elder," as he had "received his calling from the Lord."
In the three weeks leading up to Terrance's death, Hemphill led private prayer sessions at about 7 p.m. on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights, in an effort to cast away the demons he believed were causing the boy's afflictions.
The final deadly session, on Aug. 22, 2003, was Hemphill's ninth "religious service."
Medical examiners, who also found extensive bruising on the back of Terrance's neck, later determined that the pressure applied to the boy's chest had prevented him from breathing.
Hemphill was arrested the next morning and released a few days later on a $5,000 signature bond, meaning he did not have to post the money but would forfeit that amount if he violated the judge's main condition of his bail — no more exorcisms or spiritual healing of any kind.
Shortly afterward, the city revoked the church's right to operate in an area zoned for industrial use.
Casting out demons
It seems implausible that some still view mental illness through the demonology paradigm popular in the 13th century. But according to Rita Swan, president of Children's Healthcare is a Legal Duty, 20 states have laws that protect those who commit felony crimes against children, based on a religious defense.
In 1977, Swan and her husband, Doug, were devoted Christian Scientists. They were devastated when their 16-month-old son Matthew died of spinal meningitis, after Christian Scientist practitioners assured them that his illness could be healed with spiritual "treatments."
In 1983, Swan started CHILD, Inc., a nonprofit aimed at protecting children from abusive religious and cultural practices, especially religion-based medical neglect.
The watchdog group actively pursues legislation to repeal religious exemptions, including in states like Delaware and West Virginia, where some laws allow a religious defense to the murder of a child.
"Most states have tried to change their laws in recent years, so that prosecutors don't have to prove 'intent to harm' to get a conviction with serious prison time when kids die," Swan said. "But many children have died and the state has taken no action because of these laws."
Swan cites Oregon — a state that currently has a religious defense to homicide by abuse — where 80 children have died at the hands of faith healers.
In Rhode Island, at the time of this writing, a bill awaits the governor's signature that would delete religious exemptions for parents and guardians who do not provide medical treatment for their children based on religious beliefs.
But there are still religious defenses to manslaughter and murder of a child in Iowa, Ohio, Delaware, West Virginia and Arkansas.
In Wisconsin, without legislative action, it appears that even a guilty verdict in Hemphill's trial would have little effect on the severity of charges imposed in future cases of children accidentally killed in the name of God.
When the DA was asked by reporters about Wisconsin's treatment-through-prayer statute, he said he believed the law should be repealed.
"I've been aware of that provision and concerned about it for a number of years," McCann said. "I think it has the potential for mischief."
Court TV will air the trial live.
. I think we all agree that this minister isn't mentally stable but I can make up from that article there were people watching it all happen. There's a syndrom of which I forgot the name which paralyzes us when we see something awful happen because we tend to think someone else will do something about it, why would you do it on your own?
