Prologue: “In the Eyes of God”


He called himself a prophet.

His followers called him “Father.”

To the outside world, Tony Alamo was a Christian evangelist running a gospel empire with his wife, Susan.

But behind church walls, behind the robes and revival music, lurked a secret life built on manipulation, exploitation, and abuse—especially of young Black girls and women.

His real name was Bernie Lazar Hoffman, and what he built wasn't a ministry—it was a cult.


The Rise of a False Prophet


Tony Alamo’s story begins in California in the late 1960s, where he and Susan founded the Alamo Christian Foundation. Their message was fiery, apocalyptic, and anti-government. They attracted followers from the streets—runaways, addicts, the homeless—and promised them salvation.

They built a commune. Then a church. Then an empire.

Soon, they owned printing presses, schools, clothing factories, and mansions across multiple states.

Alamo used religion to gain absolute control over his followers’ lives—including who they could marry, where they could live, what they could wear, and how they could parent their children.

By the late 1980s, they had headquarters in Arkansas, where many of the new recruits were Black girls from poor Southern communities, bused in or recruited by word of mouth.

They were told they’d get an education.

Instead, they got indoctrination and exploitation.


Life Inside the Alamo Ministries


Children were beaten, isolated, and indoctrinated.

Girls were told that obeying Alamo was obeying God.

They were groomed from a young age—some as young as 9 years old—to become “wives” of the prophet.

“He told us God chose us for him. If we disobeyed, we were told demons would enter us.”
— Jazmine, survivor, age 29 at the time of testimony

Black girls, often from broken homes, were singled out—both sexualized and silenced.

They were stripped of their birth names, forbidden from contacting family, and monitored constantly. Anyone who disobeyed was beaten or starved. Some were locked in isolation rooms for days.


The Government Investigates


In the early 1990s, Susan Alamo died, and Tony became more radical and paranoid. His sermons became darker—predicting the apocalypse and calling government officials “Satanic agents.”

In 1994, he was convicted of tax evasion and served four years in prison.

But his ministry continued in secret.

Upon his release in 1998, he moved the church to Fouke, Arkansas, and began expanding his control. Former followers claimed the abuse escalated. Girls as young as 8 and 10 were “married” to him in private ceremonies.

In 2008, the FBI and Department of Homeland Security raided the Fouke compound.

What they found was horrific.


Testimonies from the Shadows


During the 2009 federal trial, multiple survivors, including several Black women, testified that Tony Alamo had raped and abused them as children.

They spoke of:

  • Forced “spiritual marriages”
  • Cross-state trafficking
  • Physical beatings
  • Constant threats of hell and damnation

One survivor testified:

“He told me God would kill my family if I ever left. I was 12.”

Alamo represented himself in court—ranting about religious persecution, quoting scripture, and denying all wrongdoing.

But the jury saw through him.


Conviction and Sentencing


Tony Alamo was found guilty on 10 counts of transporting minors across state lines for sexual purposes.

In 2009, he was sentenced to 175 years in federal prison.

He died behind bars in 2017.

His ministries were dismantled, his properties seized, and his name added to the long list of charismatic abusers hiding behind scripture.


Race, Power, and Predation


Many survivors and advocates have pointed out that Alamo's targeting of Black girls was not incidental.

He deliberately sought girls from vulnerable homes, rural areas, and low-income Black communities, knowing their disappearances would not spark national outcry.

“No Amber Alerts. No CNN interviews. Just silence.”
— Angela Dixon, former church member and advocate

Like other predators, Alamo weaponized race, poverty, and faith—a trifecta of vulnerability he used to imprison minds and bodies.


The Survivors Rebuild


In the years since his conviction, dozens of survivors have spoken out.

Some have become activists, authors, and counselors—dedicating their lives to preventing cult abuse and giving voice to silenced girls.

In 2013, six survivors were awarded $525 million in damages—a symbolic victory, though the money was never paid in full.

Their courage helped bring a monster to justice—and inspired others to speak.


Legacy: The Preacher’s Curse


Tony Alamo is proof of how easily faith can be twisted into a weapon, and how Black girls in America remain dangerously invisible in discussions about abuse and exploitation.

The ministry is gone. The mansions are empty. But the trauma lives on.

This chapter is not just a story of a cult—it is a warning.

“God didn’t fail us. Man did.”
— Survivor testimony, sealed court record