The 1993 event at Mt. Carmel shocked all of America and has since spawned a plethora of books regarding the "truth" about the Branch Davidians. Memories of the Branch Davidians is the story told from the inside. The oral history of Bonnie Haldeman, the mother of Vernon Howell (David Koresh), offers an intimate, first-hand account of how a boy named Vernon Howell became David Koresh. Haldeman paints a picture of Koresh that could only be told by one who knew both his greatest strengths and his deepest faults.
When They Were Mine is the autobiography of Sheila Martin, a member of the Branch Davidian Church at the time of its apocalyptic encounter with the FBI in April, 1993. The assault resulted in a fire that killed 76 Branch Davidians, including 23 children. Sheila's husband and four oldest children died in the fire. Martin told the story of her life, both before and after the attack, to Catherine Wessinger, who then wrote this first-person narrative from the recordings of their sessions together. The result is a haunting account of one life, typical in its ups and downs, made atypical by a collision of faith with history.
Nearly twenty years after they happened, the ATF and FBI assaults on the Branch Davidian residence near Waco, Texas remain the most deadly law enforcement action on American soil. The raid by Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms agents on February 28, 1993, which resulted in the deaths of four ATF agents and six Branch Davidians, precipitated a 51-day siege conducted by the FBI. The FBI tank and gas assault on the residence at Mount Carmel Center on April 19 culminated in a fire that killed 53 adults and 23 children, with only nine survivors. In A Journey to Waco, survivor Clive Doyle not only takes readers inside the tragic fire and its aftermath, but he also tells the larger story of how and why he joined the Branch Davidians, how the Branch Davidian community developed, and the status of survivors. While the media and official reports painted one picture of the Branch Davidians and the two assaults, A Journey to Waco shares a much more personal account of the ATF raid, the siege, and the final assault that details events unreported by the media.A Journey to Waco presents what the Branch Davidians believed and introduces readers to the community’s members, including David Koresh. A Journey to Waco is a personal account of one man’s journey with the Branch Davidians, through the tragic fire, and beyond.
The basis of the celebrated Paramount Network miniseries starring Michael Shannon and Taylor Kitsch -- Waco is the critically-acclaimed, first person account of the siege by Branch Davidian survivor, David Thibodeau. Twenty-five years ago, the FBI staged a deadly raid on the Branch Davidian compound in Waco. Texas. David Thibodeau survived to tell the story. When he first met the man who called himself David Koresh, David Thibodeau was a drummer in a local a rock band. Though he had never been religious in the slightest, Thibodeau gradually became a follower and moved to the Branch Davidian compound in Waco. He remained there until April 19, 1993, when the compound was stormed and burned to the ground after a 51-day standoff with government authorities. In this compelling account -- now with an updated epilogue that revisits remaining survivors--Thibodeau explores why so many people came to believe that Koresh was divinely inspired. We meet the men, women, and children of Mt. Carmel. We get inside the day-to-day life of the community. We also understand Thibodeau's brutally honest assessment of the United States government's actions. The result is a memoir that reads like a thriller, with each page taking us closer to the eventual inferno.
The 1993 government assault on the Branch Davidian compound near Waco, Texas, resulted in the deaths of four federal agents and eighty Branch Davidians, including seventeen children. Whether these tragic deaths could have been avoided is still debatable, but what seems clear is that the events in Texas have broad implications for religious freedom in America. James Tabor and Eugene Gallagher's bold examination of the Waco story offers the first balanced account of the siege. They try to understand what really happened in Waco: What brought the Branch Davidians to Mount Carmel? Why did the government attack? How did the media affect events? The authors address the accusations of illegal weapons possession, strange sexual practices, and child abuse that were made against David Koresh and his followers. Without attempting to excuse such actions, they point out that the public has not heard the complete story and that many media reports were distorted. The authors have carefully studied the Davidian movement, analyzing the theology and biblical interpretation that were so central to the group's functioning. They also consider how two decades of intense activity against so-called cults have influenced public perceptions of unorthodox religions. In exploring our fear of unconventional religious groups and how such fear curtails our ability to tolerate religious differences, Why Waco? is an unsettling wake-up call. Using the events at Mount Carmel as a cautionary tale, the authors challenge all Americans, including government officials and media representatives, to closely examine our national commitment to religious freedom.
This is the story the daily press didn't give us. It may be the definitive book about what happened at Mt. Carmel, near Waco, Texas, examined from both sides—the Bureau of Alcohol and Tobacco and Firearms (ATF) and the FBI on one hand, and David Koresh and his followers on the other. Dick J. Reavis contends that the government had little reason to investigate Koresh and even less to raid the compound at Mt. Carmel. The government lied to the public about most of what happened—about who fired the first shots, about drug allegations, about child abuse. The FBI was duplicitous and negligent in gassing Mt. Carmel-and that alone could have started the fire that killed seventy-six people. Drawing on interviews with survivors of Koresh's movement (which dates back to 1935), as well as from esoteric religious tracts and audiotapes, and previously undisclosed government documents, Reavis uncovers the real story of the burning at Waco, including the trial that followed. The author quotes from Koresh himself to create an extraordinary portrait of a movement, an assault, and an avoidable tragedy.
What were the beliefs of the Branch Davidians? This is the first full scholarly account of their history. Kenneth G. C. Newport argues that, far from being an act of unfathomable religious insanity, the calamitous fire at Waco in 1993 was the culmination of a long theological and historical tradition that goes back many decades. The Branch Davidians under David Koresh were an eschatologically confident community that had long expected that the American government, whom they identified as the Lamb-like Beast of the book of Revelation, would one day arrive to seek to destroy God's remnant people. The end result, the fire, must be seen in this context.
A longtime FBI Lead Hostage Negotiator offers a behind-the-scenes account of the many high-profile cases he worked on--from hijackings and prison riots to religious-cult and right-wing-militia standoffs--and explains how such failures as Ruby Ridge and Waco could have been averted.
An exploration of the production, transmission, and mutation of affective tonality—when sound helps produce a bad vibe. Sound can be deployed to produce discomfort, express a threat, or create an ambience of fear or dread—to produce a bad vibe. Sonic weapons of this sort include the “psychoacoustic correction” aimed at Panama strongman Manuel Noriega by the U.S. Army and at the Branch Davidians in Waco by the FBI, sonic booms (or “sound bombs”) over the Gaza Strip, and high-frequency rat repellants used against teenagers in malls. At the same time, artists and musicians generate intense frequencies in the search for new aesthetic experiences and new ways of mobilizing bodies in rhythm. In Sonic Warfare, Steve Goodman explores these uses of acoustic force and how they affect populations. Traversing philosophy, science, fiction, aesthetics, and popular culture, he maps a (dis)continuum of vibrational force, encompassing police and military research into acoustic means of crowd control, the corporate deployment of sonic branding, and the intense sonic encounters of sound art and music culture. Goodman concludes with speculations on the not yet heard—the concept of unsound, which relates to both the peripheries of auditory perception and the unactualized nexus of rhythms and frequencies within audible bandwidths.
