My Journey to Tulsa- By SS
 

~~Found on the Internet~~

My Journey to Tulsa

By SAS


THE SIX –

It was supposed to be “THE SEVEN” I’m told, and that the seventh was supposed to be T.L. Craft. He
withdrew, however, as I was told, because he was confronted by “too much pressure from his friends.”
Thus, “THE SIX.” These six are dominated by the Godair brothers, Johnny and Kenny. In addition to
these two, you have Crawford Coon, Nate Wilson, Larry Booker, and Floyd Odom. This gentleman, last
named, is apparently without employment, therefore he was selected to move to Tulsa and open up the
offices of the Apostolic Worldwide Network, otherwise known as AWP. It was freely admitted that
these gentlemen were self-appointed and that they contacted or were contacted by a group set at
about 50 men who expressed interest in being involved in some fashion. The SIX are called the
Executive Council, the 50 are called the General Council.
The order of the convention, known as the “SUMMIT”, is printed on the internet, but in simple terms, it
began Thursday evening to a crowd estimated at about 1,000. The CHAIRMAN of this event and nascent
organization is Johnny Godair. His swashbuckling style seems to please all the rest of the brethren.
Music was led by Bro. Issacson, perhaps Zane? My, how he has changed.
Seven speakers were scheduled to deliver 15 minutes presentations, beginning with T.L. Craft, the
violator of all clocks and time mechanisms when it comes to the pulpit, or anything else for that matter.
He began with a wisecrack about his two wives, Mary and Martha. Mary is now dead, but he suggested
that he himself was the Antichrist, because Mary never sat at his feet and Martha didn’t know how to
cook. He proceeded to indulge a myth about Mary the mother of our Lord, titled, “Bringing a living
Christ to a dying world.” He was followed, not necessarily in this order by Floyd Odom, Kenny Godair,
Johnny Godair, Crawford Coon and Larry Booker.
The evening concluded with a delivery by Nate Wilson, the self-exalting and universally acclaimed genius
and resident theologian of the organization. It is he who claims to have written their By-Laws and
Articles of Faith. I wasn’t able to bear witness of much of these presentations due to an unfortunate
event. I explain. Since this was history in the making, there were a lot of people with cameras taking
pictures, myself included. This seemed to pique the feelings of Johnny G, and he got up and ordered
that no one take any pictures because they had hired an official photographer, besides, they didn’t want
any of these proceedings held in the hands of anyone they couldn’t control, anyone who might be
considered an “unfriendly.” On the other hand, they didn’t have anything to hide, he alleged.
My camera had video capability, but the battery was low and the memory was nearly full, precluding me
from taking any video of the event, but I had intended to take a few photographs of the facility and the
crowd to send to relatives, more specifically, my esteemed brother-in-law, Ray Brown, who is an
independent sympathizer, but a rightfully-so suspicious soul of any ORGANIZED religious entity. He had
planned to come to Tulsa, but illness in a member of his church prohibited this, as well as a healthy
concern that something “crazy” might happen with which he didn’t wish to be associated.


But, I digress. I succeeded in taking about 10 photographs, first of the empty, or nearly empty, facility
and then of it when it was well populated, about in the middle of Crawford Coon’s presentation. As I
returned to my seat and was quietly, unobtrusively, and attentively listening to each speaker, a security


goon, who claimed to be a “son in the gospel” to Floyd Odom approached me, while seated, placed his
hands on my shoulders and pushed me back and said, “They’ve stated that no one is to be taking
pictures.” I replied, “I heard that.” He glanced down at my closed camera lying on the seat beside me,
and to keep him from grabbing it, I placed my hand over it, and he walked away.





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Re: My Journey to Tulsa- By SAS
 

I took no more pictures (the ones I had taken I had taken in the empty, darkened balcony so as not to
disturb anyone), but continued to silently worship and pray while the speakers continued to hold forth
on various aspects of their enterprise. A few moments later, two more goons, one apparently a deputy
sheriff and the other a nerd with a jacket which said “SECURITY” on the back marched down the aisle to
where I was seated, about 30 feet from the platform, turned and confronted me, ordering me to
accompany them. Shocked, but being a sworn officer myself, as well as an attorney who understood the
processes of detention, arrest and my civil liberties, I decided not to leap to my feet and give a loud and
convincing “message in tongues.” I didn’t wish to disturb the proceedings any more than they were
already being disturbed by these two gentlemen.
I was escorted to the foyer and there loudly interrogated as to who I was, what was I doing there, what
was my business, why was I video-taping the proceedings, etc. I denied that I was video-taping
anything, but I only took a few pictures to send to my dear brother-in-law, who I mentioned by name.
The sheriff demanded, “Who the h--- is Ray Brown?” “I don’t know,” I whimpered, “did I say something
wrong.” Just kidding! The officer then demanded to see my camera. I declined, asking, “Am I under
arrest?” “You will be,” he promised, “if you don’t cooperate.”
In response to “who I was,” I identified myself as an interested attendee of this history-making event,
that I was formerly UPCI, and I mentioned a little bit about my pedigree. The officer wasn’t the least bit
impressed, but Floyd Odom’s son-in-the-gospel whirled around and snarled, “This is going to be on the
internet.” I asked again if I was under arrest and, if not, if I could put my camera in my rented car and
return. By this time more goons arrived and the deputy began his prepared, memorized, familiar list of
legal statements leading up to an arrest. He didn’t advise me of my Miranda Rights, but he asked me if I
understood that I was “trespassing”? That I was subject to arrest. That I had to go directly to my auto
and drive off the property. That if I stepped foot back on the property I would be arrested for
trespassing and taken to jail. He asked me again for my camera. I declined, asking, “Do you actually
want to tamper with evidence?” To that he backed off.
As I was escorted to the door, away from the religious goons who had initiated all this, the deputy began
to apologize and say that he didn’t understand what their problem was, but that he was hired for
security. I asked if he was connected with any of the churches, pastors, or members of the churches
(like, was his wife a member of a local Pentecostal church), he declined to say. As I proceeded out the
door, I asked for a private conversation with him. He agreed and we went to his vehicle. There I proved
to him that I was not video-taping anything. I also revealed myself as an attorney and sworn officer
myself. He suddenly became very kind, saying again, he didn’t know what the problem of the religious
goons was, but that he was only doing his job. We shook hands, shared a couple of jokes, and I walked
to my car, went to my hotel, and there pondered my options.


My first call was to my brother-in-law, whose response was, “Oh, my GOD! Now you know why I didn’t
come. I knew something stupid would happen there.” I also called a few of my other ministerial friends
around the country and gave them a blow-by-blow report of what had just happened. The response
was 100% shock. This sort of thing was even worse than the organization this group had come out of,


controlling, mean, nasty. I had no thought of putting anything on the internet. But the seed was
planted by Floyd Odom’s son-in-the-gospel. Hmmmmm.


Well, I got a good night’s sleep and rose early. I was determined to return to the event which had been
billed publically on the internet with their website, and with an invitation for one and all to attend. I
was determined that if, need be, I should be arrested and make a federal case out of this “hospitality
issue.” After all, I had missed out on the meal that was served the night before and had gone to bed
hungry.
I arrived quite early and chose as seat near where I had been seated the night before and drew a lot of
attention from all those who arrived after me for two reasons: #1) most had seen me unceremoniously
escorted out the night before, plus #2) I think I was the only minister with facial hair (a neatly trimmed
white goatee), other than the official photographer, who had a nice moustache. I sat quietly, reading a
book I’d brought along, “The Promise of Mediation.”
I’ll admit that I was tense for quite a while, waiting to be accosted, but as time passed, the crowd grew,
and the meeting started, I became more and more comfortable, because, after all, these people are all
part of my spiritual heritage and whatever anyone else thinks, I still love and appreciate all of them,
whether or not we agree with each other about issues.
Friday was quite a tedious day. Crawford Coon read the Articles of Faith verbatim, and anyone who has
ever seen these kind of documents knows how boring these can be. Occasionally he paused and
commented in his deep southern, Jena, LA, drawl, that if you couldn’t understand these Articles, he
couldn’t help you. After all, they were written by their resident genius, Nate Wilson. He then bent over
backward in personality worship to discuss at length at what a high intellectual plateau Bro. Wilson
operated, and that he, as a simple, humble, southern pastor had to have it broken down for him. Nate
gleamed.



CONTINUED....................


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Re: My Journey to Tulsa- By Steve Schmidt
 

I read this a couple of hours ago... Verrrrrry interesting... A little different than what was posted on here about this incident...

Re: My Journey to Tulsa- By SAS
 

Next Nate got up and read the By-Laws word for word. Anyone who has ever been in this sort of spot
will tell you that if the reading of the Articles of Faith can be boring, the reading of the By-laws is
downright tedious. I think I fell asleep. Indeed, I know I did, because when I woke up Floyd Odom was
just wrapping up his topic in his stentorian voice. I have no idea what he was talking about, and didn’t
care.
I can’t be sure what all followed next because it was about time for lunch, and I was really hungry,
having been denied any repast the night before and not having had time for anything for breakfast, not
even a Starbucks. I chose a ham sandwich for lunch and sat in the crowded fellowship hall and chatted
up those surrounding brethren. I saw so many familiar faces, many from ABI, my alma maître. I even
got to chat up Bro. Jerry Ensey who was complaining that a friend of his from the Texico District was
afraid of getting into trouble with another brother-in-law of mine, Jerry Burns, the District
Superintendent of Texico. I assured him that if he got into any trouble, all he had to do was call me and I
would give him a “get out of jail free card”, a memory of past misdeeds of my brother-in-law so he could
act like he had received a Word of Knowledge and hold this newbie District Superintendent at bay.


After lunch we were regaled by a young insurance man who was all too interested in selling insurance to
this group. As a part of the $60.00/month dues, guess what? You get a life insurance policy worth a
whopping $20,000.00, doubled for accidental death. At age 65, when you might be needing it more
than ever, it severs in HALF to $10,000.00. And at age 70, when your need for it is increasing, it halves


again to $5,000.00. Wowzers. As I looked over this aging crowd, which was mostly bald and white-
headed, I could see pitch man was going to make a lot of money. No wonder he was so excited. They
proclaimed the $20,000.00 payout very loudly, but nearly whispered the halving part of it.


I thought to myself, “Poor Pentecostal suckers. When will they ever learn??? Insurance is the ball and
chain by which these religious organizations tether you to themselves.” I can GUARANTEE you that
there are MANY in the UPCI who would leave overnight if they didn’t have to worry about losing their
insurance coverage, or so I’ve been told by many of them on both sides of the equation. For all the
chanting about wanting to be free from the constraints of dominating organization, these men were
headed like sheep down the chute to another insurance trap. But then, there’s also the tickler that
under this program, one can get insurance coverage without having to qualify. In other words, one does
not have to have a medical certificate to qualify. If you have pre-existing health issues, cancer, diabetes,
hypertension, all fairly evident in the crowd that LOVES to eat, you can get coverage for your lack of
temperance. Well, maybe there’s an upside to this whole business, but I’m sure there are other plans
out there that will get you the same thing and you won’t have to be changed to something you might be
disagreeing with in the next ten years and wanting to start ANOTHER organization.
Then there was the plum I was waiting for – TWO HOURS of questions and answers. Probably the most
enjoyable part of this was watching the SIX squirm, and I didn’t know why because most were softballs.
I didn’t submit a question. I wouldn’t have known what to ask. But to their credit, there were some in
the crowd who asked some pretty decent questions. The one that stood out in my mind was the
question: “Please explain the difference between advertizing on television and video-streaming your
church services on the internet.” POW! WHAM! BANG! SIZZLE!
The SIX looked at each other, hesitated. Nervous titters shuttered across the audience. I was transfixed.
WOW, do you mean these straight arrows were actually video-streaming their services on the internet?
As I waited with bated breath, Larry Booker proceed to fall on his sword, offering up the most inane
answer in the annals of question and answer sessions for officials, self-proclaimed. Before I give you the
answer he gave, I must tell you that I believe you can get most of the conference on CDs off the internet,
but I can GUARANTEE YOU that you’ll not get a CD of the Q and As. They don’t want that out.
Since I can’t PROVE what Bro. Larry said, because there’s no recording available, you’ll just have to settle
for my truthful characterization of it. I can’t quote it exactly, but the sum and substance of Bro. Larry’s
answer was this: There is deep, DEEP wickedness on the internet. It’s awful what is out there available
to you on the internet, but at least you can control the internet with software programs that limit what
is available. One cannot do that with television. (HELP! Bro. Larry, haven’t you been informed that one
can indeed program into a television controls which limit what one is able to tune in to?) He said, with
the internet, “the teaspoon is in your hand,” and you can control what you see and surf.


With television, he said, “the teaspoon is in THEIR hand, and they cram wickedness down your throat.”
Where is the instant replay? Can I be sure I heard Bro. Larry correctly????? So far as I know, BOTH
mediums are subject to on/off switches and knobs. BOTH mediums are subject to control. Indeed, if I
were choosing which medium was the SAFEST, I would begin to wonder about which medium can be
used to surf for porn, troll for sex with children in chatrooms, learn how to build a nuclear bomb,
communicate secretly with lovers in nearly every city and state in the union. Hmmmmm, Bro. Larry are
you SERIOUS? Are you actually saying that the internet is SAFER than TV???? I think that would be
considered absurd in most informed, knowledgeable circles. But, with his sweet, husky voice, Bro. Larry
did his best to fog over a question which exposed the very heart of the hypocrisy which is embraced by


these brethren. FOR ME, I would think, NO TV, then NO INTERNET. Wouldn’t that be more consistent?
But who cares about consistency?



CONTINUED.........................



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Re: My Journey to Tulsa- By SAS
 

FINAL PAGE.................


Throughout the two days, many appeals were made to “fill out an application.” I looked at one. It is
indeed shorter and simpler than that of the UPCI. Now lest you think I didn’t see any good in this affair,
let me assure that I saw a LOT of good. Perhaps I’ll deal with that another day. One area, as an
example, is their view on World Missions. I happen to agree with them that the only way to fulfill the
Great Commission is to IDENTIFY and ASSIST native ministries. I think those are the terms they used.
There was a lot of other great stuff too.
Friday evening was set apart for the prince of their preachers to rally the troops and send everyone
home with a rousing message. I really wanted to hear Bro. Johnny Godair. My mother had told me
often that she admired him, thought he was a great man, and enjoyed his preaching. Although I was in
the UPCI for most of my life (Indeed, I was born at Apostolic Bible Institute), I don’t know if I ever heard
Bro. Johnny. I was pumped and excited to get this opportunity. After I ate supper by my lonesome,
missing my sweet, little wife, I got to church and was about the fifth person there. I found my seat,
started reading my little book and waited.
The master of ceremonies was one of Bro. Johnny’s preacher boys, I think. He had been instructed, so
he said, to keep the preliminaries short. He did. In fact, he asked Bro. Godair if he’d kept them short
enough. Once he got his approving nod from Bro. Godair, he launched into one of the most wicked
pastimes of Oneness Pentecostals, and that is the person-worship they are addicted to. Perhaps it isn’t
just Oneness Pentecostals, but I’m afraid it’s a fatal mark of Cain for all religious bodies which indulge it.
For the next twenty minutes we were regaled with how wonderful Bro. Johnny is, was, and will be. This
boy filled the place with such excessive accolades that one of the truly faithful which was sitting next to
me started huffing about the excess of it all.
Now I’ve been to a lot of district conferences and general conferences and I’ve been exposed to some of
the most extreme forms of this ego-stroking when the crowd is asked to stand, to clap, and almost to
bow before the august personages of the superintendent. Yep, this from a narcissistic people who
proclaim themselves to be exalters of Jesus Christ above all else. I can’t recall, however, being exposed
to anything as excessive as this, and it wasn’t even that eloquent. To his credit, Bro. Johnny joked about
it, but he really should have run down into the audience, rending his clothing like Paul and Silas. I really
think he chose the young man because he knew this might happen.
Bro. Godair chose Obadiah 11 as his text and then proceed to disregard it until the very last part of his
message when he referred very briefly to it. What happened next was a very fiery defense of the
proposition to which the Tulsa conference was dedicated – the apostolic life-style chosen by these men.
That’s the bottom line. They wish to preserve a lifestyle. To this end, Bro. Johnny hammered on
everything that is a familiar part of this creed – dresses below the knees on women, sleeves below the
elbows on men and women, uncut hair on women, cut hair (off the collar) on men (he didn’t mention
off the ears), uncolored hair on women (what about men?), no jewelry for women (saves money for that
new bass boat to go fishing with your preacher buddies), no makeup for women, no mixed swimming,
no television, no Hollywood, no movies, to DVDs, AND….AND….AND, he finally got around to ME! NO
FACIAL HAIR. I was watching the poor little photographer who was dutifully taking pictures of all these
events. He stopped stock still, looked a little confused and frightened. FOR ME…I felt every eye in the
place turning toward me, even the eyes in the backs of people’s heads.



There I stood. Naked before God and men. With my goatee. My chest started heaving. My pulse
raced. I fought and fought and fought the impulse to race to the alter and proclaim before one and all
that I repented of my sin for being a heretic. No matter that Jesus gave His back to the smiters and his
cheeks to those who plucked off the hair. No matter that I was actually a model for their assertion that
a man should look as different from a woman as possible. Don’t you think that beards are distinctively
male? And perhaps a “clean shaven” face is more like a woman’s? Oh well, I know I’m probably in deep
trouble for even suggesting this.
I will conclude by making two observations. First of all, I wanted to be a part of history in the making
and attending this. I’ve been around long enough to remember the formation of the Angry Man’s
Fellowship (AMF). Where are they today? The average age of the SIX is 63, I think. I would suspect that
is pretty close to the average age of the entire crowd. If they don’t propagate and/or attract a LOT of
youth, this group is going to be extinct in 10-12 years. For the most part, this crowd is beyond the years
of child-bearing. Better hope that God’s promise to Abraham and Sarah works well for these brethren.
Secondly, I’ve been out of the UPCI on the OTHER side of this equation and learned that crowd isn’t all
that desirable either. I was really longing for something profound, something that would stir me,
something that would arouse, once again, the experiences I knew as a young man, the kind of
experiences I have in my church, but am failing to find among the people of my heritage. I was looking
the sort of commitment PLUS worship and praise which has been a chief characteristic of my heritage. I
found the worship and praise STALE! It was, pardon me, Pavlovic. I’m going to choose a line from dear
Bro. Coon and tell you, if you can’t understand that, then I can’t help you.
I have to observe that the brethren on the other side, the GNCM, have far better music and far better
worship and praise than I found in Tulsa. I’ve concluded that the answer isn’t in the GNCM, the UPCI, or
in the WPF. My trip to Tulsa wasn’t a waste of time. I was able to renew my connection with a great
number of brethren. I would suspect that out of the crowd of 1,000, there were probably 2/3 there who
were observers, like myself. If the WPF is able to sign up a third or even half of this group, this is a
significant statement to Bro. Haney and his honchos at WEC. At the end of the Friday night service, they
raised almost $100,000.00, a hefty accomplishment by any stretch of the imagination. I’m pondering
attending the next meeting in the Spring, in Branson, MO. If a copy of this gets out, I’m sure I’ll not just
be DETAINED, I’ll be ARRESTED by the goons who are only too willing to suck up to the powers that be.

Re: My Journey to Tulsa- By Steve Schmidt
 

but SS is associating him anyway. Ray Brown is looking pretty prophetic from here. :toofunny

Re: My Journey to Tulsa- By Steve Schmidt
 

what do you mean by that statement

I read this a few hours ago, verrrrrry interesting... A little different story than was posted on here about the guy that got thrown out....

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Re: My Journey to Tulsa- By Steve Schmidt
 

Wow

Re: My Journey to Tulsa- By Steve Schmidt
 

Is he the guy that was supposed to have been thrown out?