By Kim Taylor
A memoir of erroneous religion, unholy violence, and religious awakening. An odyssey of mayhem, homicide, and tragedy is what Kim's relatives unknowingly embarks upon of their quest for a calm lifestyles in an unorthodox spiritual society. it's on a deceptively nice spring day, on the delicate age of 7, that Kim is uprooted from her cozy center type domestic in Utah to be moved right into a polygamous colony in Mexico. From that day ahead her lifestyles takes dramatic twists and turns. one after the other, her older sisters turn into plural other halves. finally, Kim herself is courted through the polygamist fathers of a few of her sturdy pals. Her rather peaceable global is shattered whilst violence erupts in the ranks of the priesthood leaving her sister a widow, and Kim fears for her personal existence as a few of her closest buddies turn into murderers within the identify of faith. in spite of everything, her relatives is devastated through a tragedy fomented by way of an excellent extra insidious evil.
“Kim Taylor is a proficient tale teller - and what a narrative she tells in ‘Daughters of Zion’! Raised in a infamous polygamous sect, day-by-day inhaling the entire seductions and delusions of plural-marriage theology, Kim however couldn’t ever swallow the lie thoroughly. Guided by way of a robust sense of right and wrong and prodded via tragedy after tragedy she ultimately broke out of the mental legal of polygamous pseudo-religion...”
—David Kupelian, writer of the selling of Evil
“It used to be interest approximately polygamy that led me to select up this e-book, however it is the author’s craft at storytelling that made it very unlikely to place it down. Kim’s riveting, sincere portrayal of her brave look for deliverance from what she finally well-known as harmful dogma cloaked as non secular truths, is either interesting and inspiring”.”
—Mary Ann cook dinner, speaker, writer of Honey I’m domestic For Good!
“An incredible tale, advised with compassion. Taylor is a usual storyteller. I couldn't positioned it down!”
—C. Hewitt, columnist, writer of Parenting during the Eyes Of A Child.
“In the times following his stopover at, I reflected Mark Chynoweth’s caution. For years he have been like a type and pleased brother to me–was he now able to severe violence within the identify of faith? negative questions loomed in my brain especially others: might Mark really kill for Ervil? might he even attempt to kill me? Rumors that Ervil’s congregation
had taken blood covenants with each other, promising to hold out his murderous dying threats, chilled my middle and stuffed me with dread.”
From Daughters of Zion: A Family’s Conversion to Polygamy
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Additional resources for Daughters of Zion: My Family's Conversions to Polygamy
There were a few neighbors who saw and recognized my mother’s dilemma and brought us something to eat. The snowdrifts up against our end apartment were twelve feet tall, but we played outside during the day to keep warm. My mother had no other option but to start taking us every day when the sun went down to the mission to wait our turn in line to eat with the winos and the street people. We had trays with a plate and a cup and were served a bowl of chicken broth with a piece of bologna ﬂoating in it, some mashed potatoes and beans with slice of white bread, and a cup of hot tea without anything in it.
We didn’t know that they were edible. My mother wouldn’t have cooked them for us to eat in the ﬁrst place. Rabbit and I used to get up in the top of those cotton gins and smoke old cigarette butts that we found on the ground. We used to smoke grapevines too, but that stopped when I got a mouth full of red ants. It’s a wonder we didn’t burn the place down. Luckily, it never happened. The cotton was separated from the hull in those gins and the hulls would go out a chute that was seventy-ﬁve feet up in the air.
It was about 3 in the morning and there were only guys with helmets and guns everywhere. We were stopped and told to get off the streets immediately. I can hardly believe that I was around when such behavior existed with our fellow man and I’m not sure much has changed. That would be the end of me eating hot chicken at 3 in the morning down on East McLemore Street. We used to play a club exactly on the state line between Texas and Arkansas. The Pines Ballroom was in Texarkana and had a white line drawn down the middle.