Cult Status

In which the author struggles to escape the psychological shackles of a self-help seminar

A A A Comments By Kirsten Marcum Wednesday, Nov 7 2001

...continued from page 6

One day, in the thick of my Vistar involvement, I was downtown with a fellow grad. We were talking about a WCCO-TV employee who had gone through the Vistar program with me. She mentioned the media coverage that had brought down Lifespring. "I've always wondered if Beth was in undercover," she said thoughtfully. I was immediately certain it was true. Though I didn't say it out loud, I wondered: "Could we kill her?"

I was reminded of that conversation last summer, three years after leaving Vistar. Late at night, driving home, I was sitting at a stop sign when a passenger in a white van behind me leaned out the window with a gun. He fired 12 times before I managed to drive off. My first thought, when I had one, was that people who shoot at you 12 times probably want to kill you. And it would be just like someone in Vistar to tackle a job with great enthusiasm and no expertise. I had recently pitched my story to a City Pages editor in a public place. Had the wrong person overheard?

Adam Larson

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As it turned out, it wasn't Vistar--just wrong place, wrong time. You could say I'm familiar with the concept.

Editor's note: All but two of the names used in this story were changed to protect privacy. James is the author's ex-husband's real name. Sue Hawkes did run Vistar out of her home in Plymouth.