ELYRIA, Ohio -- Sarah
Presnell did not think she would ever come home from the hospital.
Before she went in, the Tennessee woman got her finances in order for her
elderly husband and disabled daughter. She cobbled together $25,000 from the
couple's savings and her daughter's meager earnings from bundling silverware at
a restaurant and sent it to Gary McNaughton, an Elyria church leader
recommended to her by relatives.
As promised, he sent her a check for $250 the next month.
The first check would be the last.
McNaughton, former youth assistant at the Church of the Open Door, sits in
jail without bond. The 51-year-old Canadian was charged last month in federal
court with fraud and tax evasion, accused of selling $17 million in bogus
securities. He allegedly tricked 200 people from 1999 to 2003.
Many of those people attended the church or had relatives who did, prosecutors
say.
Authorities say scams that sprout in church pews and beneath steeples are
among the fastest-growing frauds in America.
In 1989, the North American Securities
Administrators Association found that 15,000 people lost $450 million over five years in schemes centered at
churches. (These
on average were bilked out of 30,000 a piece)
Those numbers have ballooned. The association found that 80,000 people were
victimized between 1998 and 2001, losing nearly $2 billion.
(These on
average were bilked for 250,000 per person.)
"I've seen
more money stolen in the name of God than in any other way," Deborah Bortner, the group's former
president, says in a news release on its Web site.
It not the money. It’s the souls of these rich people that are
being lost for all eternity, – and that is the real crime here that is being
done in the name of God.
Bob Webster, spokesman for the securities administrators group, said fraud
linked to religion thrives as society grows more threatening and people more
cautious. One lasting place of trust is the church. (This is tough stuff but true. The lost in times of trouble come to
brick and mortar churches seeking God, but
what they have unknowingly entered is a den of thieves. Beginning with their pastors
on down.) I don’t know how many times in the little Haginite church I attended
for a while that the assistant pastor proclaimed “The Gospel is not free, –
somebody has to pay for all of this.”
And the pastor nodded his head and said amen.
"People tend to let their guard down there," Webster said. "Con artists realize that.
Outsiders look to penetrate the circle of trust."
Under the name Haven Equity Co., McNaughton promised clients interest rates as
high as 20 percent annually on investments and told them their principal was
guaranteed, which it wasn't, according to court records.
(This local
Ohio assembly, The)
Church of the Open Door, (was)
incorporated in 1950, (And now)
boasts 1,800 people at Sunday services, a rambling campus and a school that
enrolls 640 children from pre-kindergarten through high school. (And the church has to pay for
all of this some how, so in come the pitchmen.)
The interdenominational church never invested money in Haven Equity and had no
involvement with the sales, Open Door's attorneys said.
"The church was only in the business of
religion," Attorney Kate Ryan said. (This is absolute truth, but Christ was not a businessman seeking
venture capital and young entrepreneurs.
Nor is the salvation that Christ preached about building one’s personal
equity and gaining investments in this world.)
But the pastor at the time, David Walls, and other church leaders invested
their own money and recommended the investments to church members, according to
court records filed by the investors' attorneys. Walls left the church in 2003
and could not be reached for comment.
Presnell, the Tennessee woman, and James and Dorothy Jevack of Medina said the
only reason they invested their money was because they believed it was
connected with the church.
"Open Door's public venue and promotion of the scheme provided a ripe environment for unscrupulous shysters,"
according to court documents filed by the Jevacks, who lost close to $200,000
and sued the church.
Lorain County Common Pleas Judge Christopher Rothgery dismissed the couple's
suit, saying the church did not have anything to do with McNaughton's business.
The Jevacks are appealing the decision. (If I read this right the church promoted this to
its members, if any private company did this they would be held fully liable.)
The Jevacks declined to be interviewed on the advice of their attorneys. Other
victims would speak only anonymously because they are embarrassed they were
duped.
Some victims believe the church should not be held liable. "Any
judgment against the church will turn me upside down," said Seth Stevens
of Amherst, who blames himself for being naive and McNaughton and his Canadian
partner, Andrew Lech, for deceiving him.
Stevens, who
lost almost all of his $750,000 investment, is still a member of Church of the
Open Door. (Talk
about preaching to the rich)
David Miller, executive director of Yale Divinity School's Center for Faith
& Culture, said: The clergy have to be especially careful not to endorse businesses. (Because the good grace the courts have given
them up till now in this rising crisis is just about over.) But he also said it is common for a
church to tap its members' expertise to conduct adult education classes or
other programs, which may generate clients for the members' businesses.
Former church employee Scott Russ, who did not invest with McNaughton, said
church leaders became a megaphone for McNaughton's investments.
Russ (who) was fired as youth pastor in 2002 said
:McNaughton's presence at the church changed the atmosphere for the worse.
"The focus
was taken off of God and the ministry and the work of the church, and a lot of
it shifted over to Gary and his money. (Otherwise known as the prosperity Gospel) He flaunted his money (As an enticement)
before a lot of people," Russ testified in a deposition.
McNaughton and his family lived in a $350,000 house about a mile from the church,
owned boats and motor homes and drove expensive cars.
A Lorain man who lost $90,000 said he once saw a new Mercedes SL500 sitting in
the driveway at the McNaughtons' house. "I joked to his daughter, `Your
dad bought a car with my money,"' he said.
McNaughton
donated $250,000 (Seed money in order to buy
the pastor and the elders in the church) to the church from 1996 to 2002 and (He) bought meals and vacations (Plural – Think Congressional
Junkets paid for by lobbyists here.)
for at least one church member, (That would be . . . the Pastor???!!!) according to court records and Russ.
In a deposition, McNaughton said the investment business had nothing to do with
his job at the church. McNaughton said he told investors that he was not a
financial planner and that he would be sending their money to Lech, a stock
trader in Canada whom he had done business with since the late 1980s.
Lech is in jail on contempt of court charges for refusing to give information
in one of the civil cases filed by investors. Criminal charges related to the
investments are pending.
McNaughton filed for bankruptcy last year, citing debts of more than $1.1
million.
As for the Presnells, they were forced to sell their home of 27 years for a
smaller house and abandon their dream of securing health insurance for their
56-year-old daughter, Diana, who has cerebral palsy.
Sarah Presnell said she was grateful to recently receive a check for $1,980
from Lech's settlement in a class-action case in Canada.
"I've never lost my faith in God," she said.
Molly Kavanaugh and John Caniglia are
reporters for The Plain Dealer of Cleveland