“He came to our home,” Ruth recalls, her hands trembling even now at the memory. “He said Jacob had violated the contract. He said we owed everything immediately. When Jacob said he couldn’t pay it all at once, Benton became angry. He said he would take our farm, our home. He said he would make sure we had nothing.”
The threats escalated over the following months. Benton’s visits became more frequent and more aggressive. According to Ruth, he made veiled threats against the children, suggesting that Jacob’s failure to pay would have “consequences” for the family.
“He never said exactly what he would do,” Ruth explains. “But the way he looked at the children, the way he spoke… Jacob and I understood. He was threatening our babies.”
In March 1992, after a particularly threatening encounter, Jacob made a decision. He would build a hiding place in the barn where the family could stay when Benton came around, where they could conceal themselves until he left.
“Jacob worked at night,” Ruth says. “He carved out that room from the barn’s back corner, soundproofed it with straw and cloth, built the secret door. It took him three weeks. He told the children it was a game, that we were practicing hiding.”
The family began sleeping in the hidden room whenever they heard Benton’s truck approaching. They’d quickly gather essentials—blankets, food, water—and seal themselves inside until he left.
“It was terrifying,” Ruth says. “The children would cry. Baby Mary couldn’t understand why we had to be quiet, why we were hiding. David had nightmares. But we were too afraid to do anything else.”
By early summer, it became clear they couldn’t continue living this way. The children were showing signs of trauma. The farm was suffering from neglect as they spent more time hiding than working. And Benton’s visits were becoming more frequent.
“Jacob said we had to leave,” Ruth recalls. “I asked him how. We had no money, nowhere to go, no way to escape without Benton finding us. That’s when Jacob went to see Benton one last time.”
