"Melanie"

I am a survivor of Austin Gardners, and I would like to tell my story.

I am not a victim of sexual abuse but just wanted to share my story of how I was disgusted and ashamed of how these missionaries treated Austin Gardner.

I was on a missions trip in Peru in 2005 after having gone to the BCWE camp in 2004 and 2003. My pastor took us to that camp and we were encouraged to visit Peru. I took the step to raise money and go on the trip in the late summer of 2005.

When we got there I remember that there was a lot of tension between certain missionaries. I didn’t know what it was, but I had been a missionary kid in the 90s so I knew that there was always something going on when you have that many preachers etc.

We were taken every night to the Gardners house and we “sat at the feet” of Mr Gardner to “glean” from him. I remember being confused and wondering why we as 19-20 year olds would need to do this when we could be doing literally anything else to enjoy our trip and reach out to needy people.

Mr. Gardner would lounge in his chair in a disturbing way, his leg up on his chair arm, his feet bare and his laptop open where he was either watching something or typing. He was apathetic, pompous and arrogant. He told inappropriate stories, one about how he didn’t use the bathroom for a week and how much “gas” he had and how he refused to use an outhouse in a rural village. He spoke about how he had to run to the bathroom and being constipated. I remember thinking it was gross to talk about in the presence of young women.

I never saw his wife. She stayed upstairs and Mr Gardner would often say derogatory remarks about her. David, his youngest, was interested in a girl and would come down stairs to say stuff to his Dad. “Can I have her flown over? We can book a flight” etc and they would speak in Spanish because they didn’t think any of us knew it but I did. I remember him telling his son that the only reason he wanted her to come was to fulfill his lust and because her father was rich. They argued and I remember it was very awkward because I knew what they were saying. I never told them I understood.

We toured the orphanage and school and Chris was our guide. These children cowered before this man. I remember seeing fear in these children’s eyes. It disturbed me as a 19 year old. I felt like something wasn’t right.

I heard Mr Gardner upbraid a young missionary who had been sick. Mr. Gardner said something like, “Young man, you need to grow up and get your head out of your rear end. Man up. I can’t have you sulking around here sick. It’s an attack of the devil” and they spoke about his choice of mission field, which was basically Mr Gardner telling him where to go. This man is now in Montana as a pastor after staying on two different mission fields, changing fields to where ever Mr Gardner would tell him to go. I saw missionary men, grown men, stop talking when Mr Gardner interrupted them. They would bow their head almost in god-like adoration. I was disgusted. I saw women literally sit at his feet. They would gaze up at him and hang on his every word.

Mr Gardner asked for these ladies to make Sunday school curriculum for kids that centered around world missions. He wanted us young girls involved, he said. The girls, again, 18 and 19 year olds to help design and develop this curriculum. They wanted us to draw and write lessons. We were caught off guard because we weren’t even part of this mission board or anything. It was very weird. We never did anything. And one of the missionary wives told us crying that she was in charge of the project, she had a degree in art and literature and could easily do it but he had told her she was too slow.

Mr Gardner had all us young people in his office and looked at us. “You all are just here for a fun trip. You don’t care about missions. I’ll never see any of you again. I don’t even know why you’re here. So, get out of my office.”

I was dumbfounded and my estimation, if I’d had any, was depleted. This man made me feel gross and I was only around him a little. I went home and told my pastor, who told me he also had concerns. I never went back to that camp or on any other missions trips. These people clearly worshiped him. What a shame they couldn’t get their eyes on Jesus.

I am praying for victims. My story is so small compared to many. But I hope it helps others see what kind of man he is.