TALLAHASSEE DEMOCRAT
February 23, 1997
Jennifer Donovan ran away from her California home, took drugs, quit school and was arrested before winding up in a hospital where doctors said she was depressed and put her on Prozac.
After she was released, the 17-year-old girl went back to drugs and ran away again. Her frustrated parents then sent her across the continent to Victory Christian Academy.
The fundamentalist school for girls moved to Jay, an isolated farming town in the Panhandle, five years ago from Ramona, Calif., in a cloud of controversy over its methods and refusal to abide by state regulations.
Victory Christian, however, is thriving in Florida's less restrictive regulatory climate. Its 76 beds are usually filled and the Rev. Mike Palmer, the school's director, says he gets more applicants and referrals than he can take.
"I hated it," Jennifer recalled eight months after her arrival. But it did not take long for strict discipline, religious indoctrination and a drastic change of scenery to change her outlook.
"I got saved after my first three weeks here," she said. "When I first came here . . . I didn't want to live anymore, I didn't want to be here at all. Slowly, after that I began to look at myself in the future."
Jennifer is off drugs, made up nearly two academic years and will graduate from high school this spring. She wants to re-establish a relationship with her family and go to college.
Victory Christian is one of a growing number of, in effect, private reform schools, many with religious ties, being established across the nation.
They are a last resort for many parents who have lost control of their children to drugs, sex or merely teen-age rebellion.
Palmer, an Independent Baptist minister, closed the Ramona facility rather than submit to state regulation in 1991, contending it was a matter of religious freedom.
Two years earlier, the former professional photographer had pleaded no contest to operating an unlicensed community care facility and was placed on probation. When he continued operating without a license, authorities raided his campus and returned to court in an effort to close him down.
The California Department of Social Services accused Victory Christian of punishing girls through solitary confinement in a tiny "get right" room, mishandling prescription drugs and violating fire codes.
Officials also questioned Palmer's practice of isolating new students from their parents.
The case ended in a settlement based on the licensing issue.
No findings were made on other accusations, which Palmer had denied.
The agreement was for Palmer to get licensed or shut down.
He chose the latter. "We as Christians felt that we could not operate under the requirements of what Social Services wanted," Palmer said.
He said that included letting friends visit. He also argued that he did not need a license because Victory Christian was a boarding school, not a community care facility.
A California judge ruled he was engaged in behavior modification and, therefore, had to be licensed.
Florida allows religious-based agencies that do not receive government aid to avoid state licensing through certification by the private Florida Association of Christian Child Caring Agencies.
Palmer said that certification allows him to operate within the law yet "take a Bible and show the young lady what the word of God says about moral issues."
California Deputy Attorney General Beth Jacobs, who handled the 1991 case against Victory Christian, recently said if the school is operating in the same manner "it would be a very scary place."
Palmer said such views are based on erroneous perceptions from the past.
