Waco

Part One: The Shepherd’s Rod

 In the early 20th century, a Seventh Day Adventist named Victor Houteff wrote a book titled The Shepherd's Rod, which he hoped would help reform the church. After being disfellowshipped for creating a "disloyal" and "divisive movement," Houteff ended up building his own church, the Davidians, nearby Waco, Texas...

Cyrus Teed was born on October 18th, 1839 in a small New York town. The Teeds had settled in the Massachusetts Bay Colony in the 1630s, then migrated to Delaware County, near Trout Creek, in the 1750s. Cyrus was the second son born to his parents, Sarah and Jesse Teed, and was just one of eight children. Alongside his family, he grew up in Utica, New York.

Surprisingly, Cyrus Teed was a distant relative of Joseph Smith, the founder of the Mormon Church. Like Joseph Smith, Cyrus Teed would go on to live a life full of religious prophecy... although his name isn't nearly as well-known, and his early life wouldn't hint at anything of that nature.

Teed left school and went to work on the Erie Canal at the age of eleven, then went on to serve in the Union Army about a decade later. Afterward, he went on to become a doctor of eclectic medicine, which - according to the Chicago Reader - emphasized botanical and other noninvasive remedies.

A fan of unconventional experiments, Cyrus Teed ended up dabbling in alchemy during his adult life. In 1869, during an alchemy experiment at his home in Utica, Teed was badly shocked. However, afterward, he claimed that during a period of unconsciousness because of the shock, he was visited by a divine spirit who told him that he was the messiah. He alleged that he was visited by "the Divine Mother," who told him:

"I have nurtured thee through countless embodiments. Offspring of Osiris and Iris, behold the [revealing] of thy Mother."

After this near-death experience, which Cyrus Teed dubbed an "awakening," he immediately went to work. He changed his name from Cyrus to Koresh, the Hebrew version of the same name. He did so to pay homage to Cyrus the Great, the King of Persia roughly 2500 years beforehand, who was known for conquering Babylon and liberating the Jews from captivity.

Abandoning the life he had known beforehand, Cyrus Teed set out on a quest to spread his newfound beliefs to his fellow man, hoping that doing so would "redeem humanity." However, his ideas were rather extreme, even for the era, and included the radical belief of Cellular Cosmology, which - if you're unfamiliar - denounces the idea that the earth revolves around the sun. Rather, Teed purported that humans lived on the inside of the planet, not the outside. His followers would later address themselves with the expression "We live inside."

Along with this belief, Cyrus Teed also included some other more traditional religious beliefs, including a belief in reincarnation, celibacy (except for procreation), immortality, and collectivism. And, of course, he spoke about how he was the 7th messianic figure, with Jesus Christ having been the 6th, per his gospel. Because of the name that he had adopted - Koresh - his ideas would become known as "Koreshanity."

As he began to preach more and more, Cyrus Teed abandoned his prior life; including his longtime wife, now an invalid due to a longtime struggle with tuberculosis. She would be taken in by her family, and their only child together - a son - went with her. His relationship with his father never fully mended.

Cyrus Teed - now known as Koresh - earned plenty of criticism over the next several years for his sermons, which were clearly inspired by his previous life experiences. His adaptation of collectivism into his message seems to have been inspired by his childhood of hard labor as part of the crew that built the Erie Canal. He railed against capitalism and materialism, and promoted the idea of communal living... which, at the time, appealed to many women, who were given very few options in life at the time. Most women had been compelled to live in traditional households regardless of their own desires, and many of Teed's future followers had been trapped in loveless marriages at one point in time. So the idea that they could enter this new idea of society and be equal to everyone else was appealing.

In his newsletter, named The Flaming Sword, Cyrus Teed wrote:

"Woman, the world over, is born disfranchised... [Man] makes all her laws and she has no rights that he does not provide and control."

Looking back, we can see that these ideas seem to have been adapted from the Shakers, a prominent Christian sect that came out of England a century beforehand, which emphasized gender equality. They, like Teed, also promoted the idea of celibacy except for procreation... which, as you can imagine, angered many of the women's husbands and families, many of whom threatened Koresh.

At a forum in May of 1892, lawyer E.S. Metcalf addressed the crowd, proposing the idea of gathering up a mob to forceibly remove Teed and his followers from the state:

"Let us say that there is one spot in the State of Illinois where such a devil cannot exist. Don't talk about tar and feathers tonight; they will come later."

Yet, Koresh and his burgeoning band of followers were not deterred. He continued to give sermons throughout the Midwest, earning large sums of money for him and his fellowship to build around. In one sermon, they earned approximately $60,000, roughly $1.2 million in modern currency.

As the 1900s approached, Koresh began promoting the idea of a "New Jerusalem," an idea long promoted by adherents of the Jewish and Christian faith. New Jerusalem would be the capitol of a new Messianic Kingdom, where the twelve tribes of Israel would one day gather. Koresh originally tried to create this community near New York, Chicago, and San Francisco, but had been unsucessful in finding the right spot for it.

However, in 1894, Koresh led his followers to a small Florida town named Estero, just south of Fort Myers and Cape Coral. There, he planned to begin building his New Jerusalem, and things seemed to progress steadily for around a decade. Known as the Koreshan Unity, the commune grew to over 250 residents, and incorporated the nearby town, expanding out the religious movement's land to 110 square miles (making it the fifth largest land area of any city in the U.S. at the time). They even tried to run several candidates for local government... unsuccessfully, mind you, but the candidates got further than anyone had originally expected.

Here, Koresh and his followers built a thriving young town, which included a power plant (which provided power to the surrounding area), a printing press (for his newsletters), a dining hall, a post office, a boat works, cement works, sawmill, bakery, general store, hostel, and more. The town was governed by a council of women called the "Seven Sisters," who lived along with Teed in a common house referred to as The Planetary Court.

While things seemed to have progressed according to Cyrus Teed's ambition, it was sadly not meant to last.

In October of 1906, Koresh was involved in an altercation in Fort Myers, Florida, while waiting for the arrival of the Atlantic Coast Line train from Baltimore. A group of his followers got into a fight with some other locals in front of a grocery store, and Koresh stepped in to try and mediate the dispute. In the maelstrom that followed, he was pistol-whipped by a man; reportedly the town's Marshal, S.W. Sanchez. This injury left him with life-altering injuries, although the historical record doesn't clarify what these injuries might have been.

A little over two years later - on December 22nd, 1908, the Winter Solstice - Cyrus Teed (aka Koresh) died. His cause of death was listed as "circulatory ailment."

Nonetheless, because of his teachings, his followers believed that this wasn't the end for Koresh, who had left strict instructions for his body following his death, which included the construction of a coffin made out of zinc.

Following his death, his followers left his body laying in his bathtub, believing that his spirit would be resurrected. They hoped that the resurrection would occur on Christmas, just three days after his death. They kept vigil over his body for two days, during which time, signs of decay began to become apparent; first, through rigor mortis, and then later, with decomposition. Eventually, local officials stepped in and demanded his body be buried, his expected resurrection never coming to pass. Koreshans even set up vigils near his grave for some time, and after that, left behind a rowboat near his burial site on Fort Myers Beach, hoping that he'd one day come back to life and row back to them.

It was all for naught. A hurricane destroyed Cyrus Teed's tomb in 1921, washing his coffin out to sea, where it was never seen again.

His death left a void in the leadership of the community that he had built, and the following that he had spent his lifetime building slowly whittled away without him as the driving force. By 1930, just 55 members remained. By 1948, only 10 remained.

The stragglers limped along until 1961, when the last remaining follower, a German woman named Hedwig Michel (who'd fled Nazi Germany in 1940 and arrived in Florida decades after Cyrus Teed's death) ceded the land acquired by the Koreshans to the State of Florida parks system. They, in turn, created the Koreshan State Historic Site, which includes Koreshan State Park, the only living reminder of the group that once lived there.

While I'd like to say that this historic landmark remains the most important reminder of Cyrus Teed, the sad fact is that his teachings ended up trickling down to another wannabe messiah using the same name, Koresh, who came to prominence nearly a century later and more than a thousand miles away... in the small town of Waco, Texas...

Before we get into the story of David Koresh and the Branch Davidians in Waco, I think it's important for us to learn about the religious movement that eventually led to both existing. After all, the Branch Davidians were themselves an offshoot of the Davidian movement, itself an spinoff of the Seventh-Day Adventists, who only came into existence decades after another group known as the Millerites faded away.

So before we get into the ATF and FBI siege in Waco, I think it's important to recognize that the man we've come to know as David Koresh did not just appear out of a vacuum. He was very much the continuation in a long line of both men and women who believed that they had been embued with the gift of prophecy...

William Miller was born in February of 1782 in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, and had a very nonglamorous upbringing. Educated at home by his mother until the age of nine, Miller went on to attend East Poultney District School, and had no formal education after the age of eighteen. However, he continued to be very inquisitive, and was known to read nearly everything he could get his hands on.

In early adulthood, Miller started to lose his faith, and admittedly became a Deist (someone who believes in a supreme being, but doesn't necessarily ascribe to any one organized faith). This became a prominent part in his life moving forward.

In 1803, Miller married and moved to his wife Lucy Smith's hometown of Poultney. There, he took up farming, and was later elected to some local offices, including Constable and Deputy Sheriff. Later, he became Justice of the Peace. He also served in the Vermont militia, and was commissioned as a lieutenant in July of 1810... which was serendipitous timing, as the War of 1812 broke out - you guessed it - just a couple of years later.

When the war did break out, William Miller raised his company and became a Lieutenant in the U.S. Army. He actually participated in the Battle of Plattsburgh, where the vastly-outnumbered American forces overcame the British, later writing about the events:

"The fort I was in was exposed to every shot. Bombs, rockets, and shrapnel shells fell as thick as hailstones."

Miller barely survived the battle, and later credited God with his survival, writing:

"It seemed to me that the Supreme Being must have watched over the interests of this country in an especial manner, and delivered us from the hands of our enemies... So surprising a result, against such odds, did seem to me like the work of a mightier power than man."

Afterward, William Miller's worldview seems to have shifted, as he became obsessed with the idea of mortality. He had miraculously survived a brutal war, but lost his father and sister shortly thereafter, and the losses - paired with his own near-death experience - seems to have warmed up him to religion for the first time in over a decade.

After relocating with his family to Low Hampton, New York, Miller began to challenge his preconceived notions of Christianity, and began a verse-by-verse re-reading of the entire Bible, going over each passage with a fine-toothed comb until the meaning was clear to him. This was a process he carried out privately for several years, from 1818 through 1823. But in September of 1822, he began writing about certain conclusions he'd drawn from the Bible; namely, the idea that the Book of Revelation was completely unfulfilled. Of course, this led him to believe that he had discovered a long-lost secret in the Bible... the timing of Jesus Christ's long-heralded second coming.

This idea was based on the Book of Daniel, primarily Daniel 8:14, which read:

"Unto two thousand and three hundred days; then shall the sanctuary be cleansed."

Based on his interpretation of the Bible, Miller believed that these "days" were actually years. And if time started in 457 B.C., when the King of Persia decreed the building of Jerusalem, then the Second Coming of Christ would occur in 1843. Only then would the events from the Book of Revelation play out, which included the Millennium, the 1000-year reign of Christ following the Tribulation.

Miller began to write about his personal findings in September of 1822, but wouldn't come forward with these ideas until August of 1831, when he gave his first public lecture. Over the next several years, his ideas began to spread through letters and newsletters, which were distributed through newspapers in the American northeast. This spread his name to a lot of thought leaders at the time... and many believed in what he was predicting.

After he came forward with his ideas, the religious belief known as "Millerism" began to spread throughout America. Inspired by William Miller and his teachings, the movement had upward of 100,000 followers, many of whom gave away their worldly possessions in preparation of the Second Coming of Christ... literally waiting on hilltops for the heavens to open in 1843, as Miller had predicted.

Newspapers bearing his message were distributed throughout major cities in North America, including New York City, Philadelphia, Rochester, Cleveland, and Montreal. Certain ideas and literature even made it overseas to England, where they found a decent following. One of the major proponents of Miller's prediction was the newspaper "Signs of the Times," a paper that is published by the Seventh-Day Adventist Church to this day.

However, as months and years continued to pass - and 1843 quickly approached - many had the same questions that you're probably thinking of right now. What were the specifics of William Miller's prediction? After all, if someone was predicting the end of the world, it'd be nice to know precisely when so we could make proper accommodations.

Despite giving an approximate time, William Miller remained hesitant to give out a specific date, undoubtedly knowing that if he did - and nothing happened - that his credibility would be shot. Also, he was likely unable to determine the specific date from the Bible, the verbiage of which has been open to interpretation for as long as it's existed. However, in response to the skeptics, William Miller wrote:

"My principles in brief, are, that Jesus Christ will come again to this earth, cleanse, purify, and take possession of the same with all the saints, sometime between March 21, 1843 and March 21, 1844."

Needless to say, if you're listening to this podcast, you know that the Second Coming of Jesus Christ didn't happen in 1843. Nor did it happen in 1844. It didn't happen at all. And when it didn't, William Miller and his most ardent supporters would end up changing the date, stating that they had miscalculated or had been using the wrong calendar.

This leads us to October 22nd, 1844, the day in which the Millerites had pinned all of their hopes and dreams... the last possible date for Jesus Christ to return to Earth. Later, this date would become known as "the Great Disappointment," as it was the day in which thousands of men, women, and children had their religious beliefs thwarted... not through anything abstract or hypothetical, but through a matter-of-fact lens.

While I'm not a religious person, I honestly can't even imagine what something like that must feel like. Like the rug being pulled out from under you, but on a spiritual level, shaking your level of trust in the universe.

Afterward, many of the Millerites lost their faith entirely. His following scattered. But one of the few that remained committed to this idea was none other than William Miller himself, who continued to believe that the Second Coming of Christ was imminent. He remained committed to this belief until his death in December of 1849, just a handful of years after the Great Disappointment... which, despite not having the intended affect, did have a profound impact on Christianity in America moving forward.

While the Great Disappointment of 1844 marked a pretty profound end to Millerism, it was seen as an opportunity for some.

Hiram Edson, a Methodist farmer from New York, had been taken in by the message pushed by William Miller. Like the rest of the Millerites, Edson was left heartbroken on the morning of October 23rd, 1844, but later that day, had what he described as an epiphany.

Edson believed that Jesus Christ hadn't returned to Earth that fateful day, but had instead ascended to the Most Holy Place in the heavenly sanctuary; which, from a certain point of view, would make William Miller's prediction true, in a sense. But Edson believed that Miller had been predicting a "heavenly event," not an earthly one, so the effect of it was lost on us here on this plane of existence.

In the years to come, Edson would end up spreading his belief to some locals, and his word eventually reached the ear of a few others: Joseph Bates, James White, and Ellen White. If you don't recognize these names, you may recognize the organization that they later started, the Seventh-Day Adventist Church.

While the history of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church could be an entire episode in and of itself, it started to come into shape shortly after the Great Disappointment, when the aforementioned founders took counsel with each other. Each struggled to overcome disagreements over certain facets, but began to shape their collective beliefs into one guiding message, which ultimately became the 28 Fundamental Beliefs: a constitution for the many like-minded churches to unify under. Shortly thereafter, they began spreading this message to like-minded individuals, and grew to a flock of approximately 3,000 by 1863, which is seen as the official start date for the Seventh-Day Adventist Church.

Using the 28 Fundamental Beliefs to guide the direction of the church, the Seventh-Day Adventist Church is known for a few key beliefs that separate it from the rest of the Christian world. Namely, the first part of their namesake - "Seventh-day" - is meant to symbolize the date in which they believe the Biblical Sabbath occurs, Saturday (the 7th day of the week). This means that no secular labor is meant to be done on Saturday, which is when their worship services are held. I'll address the second part of their name, "Adventist," in just a moment.

Seventh-Day Adventists also believe in a Heavenly Sanctuary, which is basically an inner sanctum in heaven, where Jesus Christ now resides, following the events of 1844 (Great Disappointment). This makes them, essentially, a direct continuation of the Millerite movement.

They also believe in living modest lives with a strict code of ethics. For example, smoking and alcohol usage are both heavily discouraged, and Seventh-Day Adventists are encouraged to follow the Biblical commandments regarding clean and unclean food. Most are vegetarians for that reason, and only partake in eating meat on occasion. As stated by the 28 Fundamental Beliefs:

"Such health is a gift from a loving God who wants us to live life in its abundance."

Missionary work is also encouraged for Adventists, who believe it is their duty to share their beliefs with others.

Members of the Seventh-Day Adventist church also believe prominently in the writings of Ellen White, the wife of fellow founder James White. Ellen is believed to have had the gift of prophecy, and it was many of her writings that led to the foundation of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church.

During her lifetime, Ellen White claimed to have received between 100 and 200 visions, which began shortly after the Great Disappointment. She would publish literature about these visions and her interpretations of them for the rest of her life, becoming not only one of the most influential religious figures in American history, but one of the most influential Americans... maybe ever. Simply because of how vast her influence was during her lifetime, and how much her literature proliferates the globe to this day.

In the decades after its formation, the Seventh-Day Adventist Church would continue to grow, taking on tens of thousands of members by the turn-of-the-century. A big component of their growth was due to second half of their namesake - "Adventist" - which I promised I'd get to.

This part of their name is another major foundational belief, which takes direct influence from William Miller. After all, "advent" is often translated to "the arrival of a notable person, thing, or event," and is often used in religious circles to refer to the second coming of Christ.

So, a major component of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church is that Jesus Christ's arrival is imminent, and that its followers should be in a perpetual state of preparing for the arrival of Christ and live accordingly. This, along with the belief that certain members of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church have the gift of prophecy - and can receive visions directly from God - created a climate rife for other alleged prophets to step forward.

Victor Houteff, born in 1885 in Bulgaria, was baptized as a child in the Bulgarian Orthodox Church. As a youth, he worked in the mercantile trade, before his family came under scrutiny from a local mob, and they were forced to flee to America.

Houteff arrived in the U.S. in 1907, when he was just 21 years old, without a penny to his name. He moved to Illinois, where he found work as a hotelier and a grocer. But in 1918, he became a member of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church, a decision that would change the trajectory of his life moving forward.

Shortly thereafter, Victor Houteff decided to move out west to Los Angeles, California, where he became a Sabbath School teacher. He dedicated time to study the Bible, along with the numerous writings of Ellen White, the prophet of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church. While he agreed with many facets of the Seventh-Day Adventist teachings - namely, it's Saturday worship, pacifist and vegetarian lifestyle, and the imminent return of Jesus Christ - he took issue with the current direction of the church. Primarily, the Seventh-Day Adventist's General Conference, their governing body, which he believed had been compromised with worldly standards of behavior.

In the late 1920s, Victor Houteff began publishing a series of tracts called The Shepherd's Rod, in which he criticized the church for becoming lax in its standards, and called for reform. However, the Church caught wind of his writings, and asked him to discontinue his Sabbath School classes, which they no longer thought were compatible with Adventist theology.

As you can imagine, Houteff refused. After unsuccessfully pleading his case with local church leadership, he was disfellowshipped by the Seventh-Day Adventist Church.

In essence, he was excommunicated.

Assured of his faith, however, Victor Houteff continued forward. In the summer of 1930, he published a manuscript with a familiar title, "The Shepherd's Rod," which contained 172 pages in which he specified issues that he felt the Seventh-Day Adventist Church needed to address. Describing the book as "a call for reformation," Victor distributed copies to numerous church leaders at the General Conference held that summer. Only a few would ever take the time to respond, and none were receptive to his criticisms.

With "The Shepherd's Rod," Victor hoped to establish a reformed church of 144,000 members, a number that he thought abided by all of the instructions of the Bible... believing that doing so would fulfill the necessary requirements for Christ to return.

His ideas were rejected by the Seventh-Day Adventist Church in the months to come, and his excommunication spread like an infection... those that listened to his ideas and spread them were similarly disfellowshipped from the Church. Yet his beliefs continued to spread, and small pockets of people throughout the country took notice of his ideas, which were now published in multiple volumes of "The Shepherd's Rod." In particular, followers were drawn to his unique interpretation of the books of Ezekiel and Revelation.

At this point, Victor Houteff was told to stop using the name Seventh-Day Adventist when sharing his beliefs and sermons, but he continued to do so, telling his followers:

"... in case some one's name is taken off the church books for carrying on the message, do not be discouraged in any way but press onward as thou nothing happened. Pay your honest tithe and offering to your church and feel like IT IS your Father's House."

In 1934, the Seventh-Day Adventist Church declared Victor Houteff's teachings heresy, stating that anyone who chose to identify with him or his message were a part of a "disloyal, divisive movement," and were subject to discipline by the Church, up to and including disfellowship.

In response, Victor Houteff chose the only course of action he felt available to him at the time: he decided to organize his own movement, completely separate from the Church, named after his aforementioned writings, the Shepherd's Rod.

On August 15th, 1934, Victor Houteff wrote in "The Symbolic Code," his newfound organization's first newsletter:

"Being deprived of all denominational advantages such as sanitariums, health food factories, printing presses, etc. perhaps it may be necessary for a rural location for the establishment of a combined unit to assist in carrying the message to the church until the 'siege against it' shall be successfully culminated in a glorious victory when 'the zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.' (Isa. 9:7) This has been suggested by a sister and her husband who have had considerable experience in this line. Therefore we call the attention of all who are standing in the light to give consideration to such an enterprise. Anyone having knowledge of such a location and the necessary information regarding it, please communicate it to this office. Our prayers for such an undertaking on behalf of God's people will be answered by whatever the results to this call might be."

Over the next several months, potential locales for a Shepherd's Rod headquarters were floated. And in April of 1935, a decision was made. Victor Houteff found the place where he and his followers would begin to build the foundation for their new church.

Waco, Texas.

In April of 1935, Victor Houteff purchased 189 acres in Mount Carmel, Texas, just a few miles outside of Waco, where he and his eleven most ardent supporters would begin to build a thriving community. As written by the website Waco History:

"The 189 acres that the Davidians bought contained a river, forest area, and a clearing where houses and farms could be built. The main church and administration building housed Houteff, the administration of the church, and the publishing center so that Houteff could continue to publish new editions of The Shepherd's Rod. A few other houses served as infirmaries, dispensaries, and living quarters because this community was designed to be self-sustaining. One of the main breaking points with the Adventist Church was that the Davidians believed that contact with the modern world was harmful for those who believed in Jesus' imminent coming. In order to cope with this, the Davidians established a commune where they could heal their own sick, teach their own children, run their own community, and farm their own crops, selling the surplus to visitors for any cash they needed.

"The Davidian Church flourished at Mount Carmel, even thriving during the Great Depression due to the excess farmed crops which they sold at a farmers' market open to the public. They also modernized their commune by constructing water and sewage systems, adding electricity and telephone connections. In 1940, the Davidians expanded the compound to 375 acres by buying up property to the west. The population also grew from the original thirty-seven in 1935 to sixty-four residents in 1940."

The Mount Carmel Center became a thriving community for Victor Houteff and his followers, all of whom believed that they were establishing a semi-permanent headquarter for the Shepherd's Rod (commonly referred to as "The Rod" by followers). However, in 1942, the organization would rebrand as the Davidian Seventh-Day Adventist Church, mostly in an attempt to make sure that Victor Houteff's followers could claim conscientious-objector status and avoid being drafted into World War Two.

The Davidians, as they would become known, believed that their establishment at Mount Carmel would one day house the prophesized 144,000 followers that would eventually move to Palestine to recreate the Kingdom of David, hence their name, Davidian. While the Mount Carmel Center only ever housed dozens of followers at any given moment, Victor Houteff's writings continued to spread worldwide, and it was estimated that perhaps as many as 100,000 people considered themselves "Davidians."

In order to help prevent the same issues that he thought plagued the Seventh-Day Adventist Church, Victor had established a nine-member Executive Council, through which changes and eventually succession would be implemented. However, even with the council, Victor was very much seen as the ultimate authority figure.

Victor Houteff was viewed as a singularly special prophet, who his followers believed had helped unravel secrets of the Bible in a way that hadn't been seen since Ellen White and William Miller before her. He would oversee the building up of Mount Carmel for decades, and even implemented the first major Davidian outreach campaign in 1953. Labeled a "hunting campaign," the goal of the campaign was to recruit other members or former-members of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church to join their ranks.

However, in the early weeks of 1955, 69-year-old Victor Houteff died of heart failure in a Waco hospital. His sudden loss came as a shock to the rest of the Davidians, and risked undoing everything they had built. After all, one of the beliefs that Victor had propagated was that someone who followed the word of The Shepherd's Rod could not die, but would live eternally in an earthly Kingdom of David. When he died a normal, earthly, and one might even say "boring" death, it seemed to pierce the veil that Victor Houteff had established for himself and his most loyal supporters.

In the wake of Victor Houteff's untimely death, a brief power struggle ensued. And the vacuum left by his passing was quickly filled by his wife, Florence Houteff, who was significantly younger than her husband. Born in 1919, Florence Hermanson had only been seventeen years old when she was married to Victor Houteff, who was 52 at the time. At the time of his death in 1955, she was still just 35 years old.

Having assisted her husband in overseeing the Mount Carmel Center for several years, more than half of her life in fact, Florence had served for years as a secretary and stenographer, becoming Victor's most trusted advisor. She claimed that in his final night alive, after being admitted to the hospital, he had asked for Florence to succeed him as head of the burgeoning Davidian movement... which now wavered precariously without his leadership.

The day after Victor's death - before funeral arrangements were even made - Florence began the process of ousting another Davidian member, E.T. Wilson, from the position of Vice-President. With the death of Victor, Wilson stood poised to become president of the organization by default, but Florence's actions prevented that by claiming that Victor had sought for her to become his replacement before his death. Surprisingly, the rest of the Executive Council agreed, and Florence succeeded her husband as the leader of the Davidian movement.

In the weeks and months to come, Florence would receive some stiff competition from a man named Benjamin Roden, a follower of the Davidian faith for nearly a decade that claimed to have received visions from God after Victor Houteff's passing, but... more on him in a bit.

Florence Houteff hoped to properly steer the direction of the Davidian movement, which was now fledgling after the death of her husband. In 1957, in her most meaningful contribution to the group, Florence and the rest of the Executive Council agreed to relocate from their current location to a new 941-acre farm called New Mount Carmel, located approximately nine miles outside of Waco. They believed that the original Mount Carmel Center was too close to Waco, and didn't allow them to properly insulate themselves from the town itself. With this began the long process of rebuilding up their facilities, but progress was stymied by the eventual dissolution of the Davidian Church.

Without her husband around, Florence Houteff seemed to lack credibility to many followers, who had been drawn to the church because of Victor Houteff. So, in order to gain some credibility with his old followers, it makes sense that Florence began claiming to have received visions from God... visions that led her to make a prediction incredibly similar to the one that William Miller had made more than a century beforehand. She claimed that in 1959, God's earthly kingdom would be established; a prediction that, like Miller's, fell flat. As written in a Texas Monthly article from 1993:

"A pivotal year in the [group's] history was 1959. Florence Houteff, the widow of the founder, predicted that on April 22 of that year God's kingdom would come. Her prophecy caused followers all across the country to quit their jobs, sell their possessions, and move to Waco to await the end. But the world did not end - a historical nonevent known among Branch Davidians as the Great Disappointment."

Even if you don't think that history repeats itself, you have to admit that it rhymes.

During the Great Disappointment of 1959, roughly 900 people had gathered at New Mount Carmel, roughly ten miles outside of Waco, and all were disappointed when April came and went without any sign that God had noticed their gathering in any meaningful way.

In the wake of this event, whatever faith Davidians had in Florence Houteff vanished. The organization that she had spent years building up beside her husband splintered off into numerous subgroups, very few of which would survive much longer than a few years. Florence herself would quit the movement shortly thereafter, in 1962, selling off many of the assets remaining to the Davidian Church, splitting the profits between herself and the rest of the Executive Council. They all officially resigned from the church on March 1st, 1962, and simply moved on with their lives. Florence eventually settled in Washington (state) and died in September of 2008 at the age of 89, under the name Florence Eakin.

Yet the name Davidian would live in, under the guidance of longtime devotee Benjamin Roden, who took possession of the church's remaining 77 acres at New Mount Carmel.

Benjamin Roden was born in January of 1902 in Oklahoma to a family of Jewish origin.

Not much about Benjamin's early life is known, but it honestly seems pretty mundane. He graduated from high school, went on to attend teacher's college, and then spent some time in early adulthood working as a teacher. Eventually, he followed the money to the oil fields in Oklahoma and Texas, likely spurred on by job opportunities - or, the lack of them - in the Great Depression.

In 1937, Benjamin married Lois Scott (who became Lois Roden) and the two would have six children together, two daughters and four sons. One of their sons, George, would play an integral role in this story, but you'll hear much more about him in the next episode.

Despite being born into a Jewish family, it seems like Benjamin entered the world of Christianity in adulthood, at around the time he married his wife, Lois. Her family was involved in the Seventh-Day Adventist Church, and through them - and Lois - Benjamin became a member. It's believed that the transition from Judaism to Adventist was rather seamless, as both faiths had similar traditions, including sticking to the dietary restrictions of the Old Testament and holding the Sabbath on the seventh day (Saturday).

Both Benjamin and Lois became pretty fervent with their faith, and due to their proximity to Waco, ended up learning about the Shepherd's Rod movement in the 1940s. Because of their involvement, however, they were disfellowshipped from the Seventh-Day Adventist church they regularly attended... an act that only sent them further into the arms of the burgeoning Davidian movement.

The Roden family would remain involved with Victor Houteff and the Davidians for some time, through 1955, when Victor passed away. At that time, Benjamin Roden came forward, claiming that he had received visions from God and was meant to help move the church forward. However, Victor's wife Florence remained in charge of the organization, through her Great Disappointment reboot in 1959. During her tenure as president of the Davidian Church, however, Benjamin persisted and continued to write letters to members of the Davidian Church and other Adventists in the region, claiming what God had shown up in multiple visions, placing the responsibility of the church upon his shoulders alone. After Flourence floundered in 1959, many of her followers began to flock to Benjamin, who was more than willing to take them in.

Benjamin Roden became the founder of the Branch Davidians, nicknamed "The Branch" to many of its followers. They were named after their desire to continue Victor Houteff's stated objective of establishing a new Davidic Kingdom of Israel, following the decision by Victor's widow, Florence, to dissolve the original Davidian church in 1962. However, Benjamin also took influence from Zechariah 3:8 and 6:12, which read:

"Hear now, O Joshua the high priest, thou, and thy fellows that sit before thee: for they are men wondered at: for, behold, I will bring forth my servant the Branch."

"And speak unto him, saying, Thus speaketh the Lord of hosts, saying, Behold the man whose name is The Branch; and he shall grow up out of his place, and he shall build the temple of the Lord."

Benjamin Roden and the Branch Davidians were dedicated to fulfilling Victor Houteff's mission, and in 1962, procured the remaining acreage of the New Mount Carmel property. The Davidians had only moved there a handful of years prior, so it was much less established and lived in than the original property that they had sold. It was more isolated and destitute, which Benjamin and his followers probably preferred... to a point. At the end of the day, it was a dusty and uncomfortable way to live.

Moving forward, Benjamin and his followers remained committed to not only growing the church, but began making plans to build the future Kingdom of David. Benjamin and his family visited Israel, and sent over followers to begin establishing themselves there. An excerpt from The Ministry magazine in September of 1960 reads:

"For the first time in the history of Zionist colonization, an organized Christian group has been granted official status in Israel as recognized immigrants and land settlers, with all the rights of material and moral aid involved. A year and a half ago, five families of Seventh-Day Adventists from the United States and Canada immigrated to Israel to till the land and build new homes... Prayers conducted by the Adventists have been the first official Christian services to take place throughout the Zionist settlements."

Over the next decade or so, Benjamin and Lois Roden continued to build up the Branch Davidians, hoping to convert Seventh-Day Adventists around the country - around the world, really - to their cause. They simultaneously added to their plot of land outside of Waco, and kept supporting their followers living in Israel.

However, in 1977, things took a slight turn when Benjamin's wife, Lois, claimed that she had received a vision of her own.

Always an integral part of the Branch Davidian organization, Lois seemed to take a more active role in church leadership following her reported vision. As did hers and Benjamin's son, George, who had built himself up as Benjamin's presumed successor... and made his thoughts on the matter vocal. He clearly wanted to lead the Branch Davidians, and his position on that never wavered.

But throughout the 1970s, Lois became more vocal and more of a leader in the organization, much to George Roden's chagrin. This led up to 1977, when she claimed to have received a vision of the Holy Spirit, who came to her in feminine form. She later described seeing:

"... a silver angel, shimmering in the night. It was a feminine representation of this angel. I had been studying Revelation 18 and it said this mighty angel was to come down to earth and that was my understanding."

Later, some would speculate that this reported vision was an attempt by Lois to make the Branch Davidian church more open-minded to having a female leader, since the prior attempt by the Davidians - headed by Florence Houteff - had ended badly a couple of decades prior.

Following this vision, though, Lois Roden became the co-president of the Branch Davidians alongside her husband, Benjamin. This move would prove to be incredibly vital, as Benjamin died the following year, in October of 1978.

After this, Lois Roden took control of the Branch Davidian church, and would end up locked in a lengthy battle of succession with her own son for the foreseeable future...

Just a few years later, in 1981, a young man would arrive at the Branch Davidian compound at Mount Carmel, just outside of Waco, Texas. He was a 21-year-old with a checkered past and not many discernible skills, other than the ability to play the guitar and an affinity for tinkering with car engines.

His name was Vernon Wayne Howell, but you may know him as David Koresh.