Kanakuk camper says she was told to apologize, denied call home after reporting abuse

Nancy French
Special to the News-Leader.

The summer of 2016 wasn’t the first time Caroline attended Kanakuk Kamps in Branson, but it is the one etched most deeply in her memory. 

That session started like the others: Before all the athletic competitions, outdoor activities and Christian worship, camp leaders explained safety protocols.

“The first day you arrive, they make you watch this video,” she said. “No one-on-one contact with counselors unless you are in an open space. ... the ‘three buddy rule’ — If I was at the lake, I would not be able to go to the bathroom by myself. I had to bring two of my friends.” 

A sign outside Kanakuk's K-1 site in Branson on Sunday, May 22, 2022.

Kanakuk developed its Child Protection Plan in 2009 after one of its directors, a man named Pete Newman, was arrested and charged with abusing multiple children he’d met at the camp and through its related ministries. Since Newman’s 2010 conviction — he pleaded guilty to sexually abusing six boys and was sentenced to two life terms plus 30 years — Kanakuk has touted itself as a leader in child safety and holds seminars across the nation promoting its policies.

Kanakuk consistently has portrayed Newman as a lone predator, but other child abusers have been associated with the camp before, during and after Newman's tenure. In interviews for recent stories in the News-Leader, victims and former camp employees described camp leaders who repeatedly disregarded red flags and prioritized ministering to those accused of wrongdoing, rather than seeking justice for their victims.

More:Survivors, ex-employees say unreported abuse at Kanakuk camps in Branson spans decades

Caroline, who asked not to be identified by her full name, said she learned first-hand how the camp responded to reported abuse after she was groped by another Kanakuk camper the summer she was 13.

One night, “they packed every single camper, like 300 kids … in a mosh pit type of thing,” she said. “They throw all these bubbles on you. It’s a fun event.”

The fun ended when Caroline felt a male camper slide his hands into her athletic shorts. 

“‘Excuse you!’ And I said some mean words,” she said. Friends helped shield her the rest of the evening. The next morning, Caroline said, three other girls tearfully told her they’d been assaulted by the same camper. 

More:Kanakuk's statement provided in response to the News-Leader's questions

Camper says she wasn't allowed to leave or call her parents

She said they reported it to their counselor, who arranged a meeting with camp director Keith Chancey. Two of the girls were scared to attend the meeting but Caroline and one other girl gathered the courage to relay what happened. Camp leaders rebuked the girls, not the boy, she said. 

“We believe in salvation, we don't believe in punishment, Jesus forgives, and we are going to forgive the camper,” Caroline said Chancey told her. “We’re going to help him through his problems.”

More:Branson men, both 34, describe Kanakuk sex abuse, call for camp to be held accountable

Part of Kanakuk's Branson facilities, photographed from across Lake Taneycomo on Sunday, May 22, 2022.

Without warning, Caroline said, Chancey brought the boy into the meeting to force reconciliation. She said the boy admitted he “may have” groped the girls, but Chancey wanted the girls to apologize to the boy for making the accusation. 

Caroline said her friend was crying and acquiesced; Caroline refused. 

She accused the boy of “lying in the eyes of the Lord.”  

“We’re not bringing the Lord into this,” Chancey interrupted, according to Caroline. 

“You brought in salvation and forgiveness, but we're not bringing the Lord into this? Okay,” she recalled thinking. “But as a 13-year-old-girl, when an adult tells you something like that in that tone of voice, you stop.” 

(A request to interview Chancey and another staff member present at the meeting was refused by a lawyer for Kanakuk).

More:‘It was just a thing at Kanakuk’: Campers and staff say nudity was part of camp culture

Caroline cried, too, when Chancey said the boy’s punishment would consist of sitting out of a few games and being under “a close watch by his counselors.”

She asked to go home — “Either he leaves or I leave” — but Chancey did not allow her to call her parents. 

“Not unless you're injured,” Caroline said she was told when camp supervisors refused her multiple requests for a phone call. (In addition to limiting phone calls, a Kanakuk employee “playbook” instructed staff to intercept letters with negative or distressing information to prevent “misleading information” from causing “undue panic at home.”)

Supervisors told Caroline they would alert her parents. But when the summer session ended, her parents hadn’t been told the details.

“Something about a bubble party?” she said her parents asked her. “They were lied to, or not told the full extent of the story.”

More:From the editor: How we reported stories about sex abuse at Kanakuk Kamps

Kanakuk leaders assured her, “By tomorrow, you’ll forget this,” she said. Six years later, her voice still broke with emotion as she talked about being groped and the meeting that followed.

Now in college, Caroline said her experience at Kanakuk made it harder to trust.

“Thirteen is an impressionable year for any child. You're growing up and becoming a teenager, hanging around boys. It was a turning point in my life. But not everything is cracked up to what it seems,” she said. “Kanakuk is this fun-loving place in some senses, but this situation made me realize ...

“It wasn't right.”