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The Testimony of Raymer Brant Rentschler
I
was born near Montclair, New Jersey
December 17th 1950, my natural
father was not present, but my aunt who
told me later Christmas cajoler began to
sing as I was born. My natural parents
continually fought, becoming very
embittered with each other. My mother
eventually divorced my natural father on
the grounds of “bestiality”
A very bitter custody battle ensued at
this point, I was 3 or 4 years old. In my
interview with the presiding judge the
general consensus was that I had received
severe emotional damage. Because of the
social and financial status of my mother
this whole event was highly publicized in
the media.
As custody was awarded to my mother we
went to live with my grandfather. My
grandfather was an extremely powerful,
wealthy, and prominent man. As his only
wife had recently passed away, and he
never had a son he took me under his wing
so to speak and did the best to be my
surrogate father. The honor and integrity
that this man walked in I have found to
be extremely rare. As my mother was
mainly concerned with social events, the
care and nurturing I received was from
mainly my grandfather and to a lesser
degree his staff. As my natural father
had visitation rights the process of
“tennis” began between my
natural mother and father. Both parties
using me to vent their bitterness and
anger at each other. In truth my natural
father to a much lesser degree. Even
still life with my grandfather is one of
my most loved, cherished, and happy times
of life. Even with his extremely busy
schedule he always did his best to have
me with him as much as possible.
At roughly the age of 6-1/2 years old my
grandfather passed away and life was
never again the same. My mother waited 6
months and re-married my step-father, and
later moved to Florida to my grandfathers
winter home in Boca Raton Florida, she
had inherited. It was here the terror
began. At this point my mother and
step-father had begun the road to
alcoholism. The mental, emotional, and
physical abuse from both of them began.
My mother and step-father began having
children that were later to total six (6)
girls, and one (1) boy besides me. Two
things stand out, the physical abuse from
my stepfather where blood was all over
the walls literally, and a housekeeper
who at the age of eight or nine beat me
daily and sexually abused me. When the
housekeeper finally was let go, my mother
refused to discuss it with me. She also
turned a blind eye to everything my
stepfather was doing to me. I came to
find out later she was pre-occupied with
her suspicions of adultery by my
stepfather. The “tennis” game
with my natural father increased at this
time to extreme levels.
Next was an incident with the four (4)
children that lived next door. At the
time I was eleven (11) years old. They
were my playmates & friends. Their
mother and father were both involved and
had serious ties to the mafia
particularly in the area of gambling. At
this time in Boca Raton, my family and
theirs were the wealthiest, and most
prominent
A very tragic incident occurred in the
spring of 1962 in which very strong
insecticide was introduced into a milk
bottle in the refrigerator of my next
door neighbors home. At breakfast two of
the children drank the milk which caused
their deaths. A very extensive
investigation began with all types of
media coverage.
On a Friday almost a week after the
incident the Palm Beach Sheriffs
Department picked me up in a squad car
with the obvious consent of my mother
& stepfather, and drove me to West
Palm Beach, Florida for “questioning:”
I was paced in an examination room with
no relatives, or legal counsel, hooked up
to a lie detector machine, and bright
lights aimed at my face. This
interrogation was conducted by detective
“Smokey” Stover, a very
colorful and controversial Palm Beach
County detective. Immediately I was
accused of lying, which began for me the
long process of terror of the next 13
hours. I remember vividly finally making
the decision to tell my interrogators
whatever they wanted to hear. In another
words I made up a story of spiking the
milk bottle, as I was being prompted. I
was not allowed food, or drink, and I do
not remember being allowed to use the
restroom. Somewhere around three AM. I
was taken to the Palm Beach County
Juvenile Detention Center, then situated
next to the West Palm Beach Airport.
There I was stripped of all my clothes,
made to go through de-lousing process,
given inmate clothing, and placed in a
solitary cell. The facility I was placed
in was long-ago torn down as today this
facility would not be considered
tolerable by the general public.
I slept little the first night, crying,
and thinking to myself the next step for
me was execution. The memories are still
vivid of the cell, resembling very
closely what you see in a maximum
security prison today. The next day an
Episcopal priest came to see me and had
almost nothing to say. After three days
of incarceration my mother and
step-father came to see me, it was
through a wire glass cage. I found out
later they hired a elderly civil attorney
that had been a friend of my
grandfathers, completely ignorant of
criminal law. Next after 4-5 days I was
transferred to the general population. A
large caged in room holding 25-30 other
juveniles, all at least 3 to 5 years
older than myself, the oldest being 17.
Most were runaways charged with vagrancy.
In this room were bunkbeds, toilets and
sinks, along with a trestle table with
chairs for meals. Here I spent the next
three months. Daily I was checked for
bruises, and several times I thought I
was going to drown when my head was
forcibly submerged in the toilets. At
this point my case was the focus of a
media feeding frenzy, for anybody
interested it is available to be seen
mostly on microfilm now, at the Miami
Herald, Fort Lauderdale News & Sun
-Sentinel, the Boca Raton News, and the
Palm Beach Post. I’m not sure which
television stations would have this in
their archives. Many laws protecting the
rights of minors were flagrantly broken
by the media, even by the much looser
standards of that day. My natural father
came to visit me, missing the birth of
his second son, causing estrangement to
this day.
At
this time I was eleven (11) years old and
the youngest inmate to ever be in the
Florida Juvenile Detention System.. I was
interviewed by a barrage of
psychiatrists, and the case was given to
Judge Emory Newell now retired.
The case was finally adjudicated by Judge
Newell making me a ward of the state of
Florida, and placing me in a home for
emotional disturbed children. This ruling
was not accepted by the majority then,
and today, by the population of Boca
Raton, and south Florida. A group was
started The Debbie-Rand Society, which
eventually led to the building of Boca
Raton Community Hospital. This Society is
until today the most prestigious in Boca
Raton and the south Florida area. It’s
members generally do not feel justice was
served and very vocally and publically
state I should have been put to death,
and justice was not served.
Next due to differing circumstances I was
placed in foster-homes, later the school
for emotionally disturbed children. Next
my mother closed her Boca Raton home, and
moved to Honolulu Hawaii with the entire
family. I was allowed to visit once,
during this visit my mother demanded I
tell theJudge in Florida to release me to
her custody and live in Hawaii. At this
point I was 12 years old, and glad to be
alive, and refused her request. At that
point she abandoned me completely. I
attended and graduated from the school,
(8th grade) later attended a
local public high school. The school
psychiatrist I at first had to see on a
mandatory basis finally stopped seeing
me, told me I was completely normal. The
head of the school seeing I was
outgrowing all my clothes very mercifully
bought me new trousers, shoes, shirts,
etc, and generally looked after me.
Next my mother moved back to Boca Raton
from Honolulu, and began the process of
trying to have me back in her family.
After several years it worked, between
lavish displays of her wealth, guilt, and
the desire to please my mother. On
returning I had to face a nasty civil
case won in my mothers favor by one of
the leading attorneys of the time, also
having to walk thru the trauma. The Judge
released me legally into my mothers
custody, she had me change my last name
to my step-fathers. Next I attended
prep-school, and one year of college. My
first year of college I used drugs
heavily and fell apart. Next I believe
due to the LORDS hand I through various
circumstances ended up working at a local
county hospital as an Emergency Room
Technician. I did this for six (6) years.
With little pay and no chance for a
career I went into sales and initially
did well. Again though, I began to use
cocaine very heavily, went broke, and was
getting ready to commit suicide. All this
time I was living with my mother and
step-father. My step-father always in
subtle ways made it clear he had no use
for me. His mental & emotional abuse
to me was highly degrading.
During all this time the LORD had been
very quietly, but effectively convicting
me of my desperate condition, and my only
way was through HIM. I surrendered,
praise HIS NAME, was immediately
delivered from cocaine addiction and
began my new life in HIM. I had about one
week of peace and the war was on. My
mother was born-again but had great
difficulty making JESUS LORD due to her
wealth and worldly prestige. Eventually
as I surrendered more and more of my life
to JESUS my family thought I was crazy.
They were glad when I accepted a position
as sales manager in Manchester N.H. There
I worked for a tyrant and his sons, found
a good church home for the space of two
years. I look back to a growing up
season.
Next I returned to Florida to a regional
sales job, found a small apartment in
Deerfield Beach Florida, and began
attending a church in Deerfield Beach. My
job required 4-5 days a week on the road
traveling. All my family was interested
in was that I held a position that was
socially respectable. The church started
me as an usher, then a deacon, then they
made me their Missions Director. During
my tenure we did medical clinics in
Honduras, and Ecuador. The LORD blessed
this mightily with many miracles, and
wonders. Finally as the program grew the
church made me a licensed minister.
At this church I met a lady that
eventually became my wife Janet. Because
of the blessing of the LORD, the missions
program became I believe a source of
jealousy to the pastor. This pastor
taught GOD came first, then the church,
then the family. Many marriages in the
church suffered deeply from this. As
Janet and I both have severe
dysfunctional backgrounds all this became
a nightmare. The pastor attempted to
separate us, then cause division in our
already shaken marriage. I finally
resigned all my positions, and then we
left the church. The guilt and
condemnation was beyond belief.
Thankfully the LORD led us to Rev Charles
Carrin who through the HOLY SPIRIT put
our marriage back-together. Later we
moved to Atlanta, Birmingham, Alabama,
then Detroit MI. During this time we were
buffeted with negative situation, after
negative situation. The worst for me is
that after pleading and many letters I
had to tell my mother my wife came first,
she could no longer “control”
me, and I would not “bow” to
her wealth. My mothers last comment to me
before her death was “don’t get
fat” I told her unless she would
discuss with me the above issues, no more
contact. That lasted roughly 3 years as
she would not respond. The church we left
in south Florida publicly cursed us from
the pulpit, and instructed all church
members to “shun” us.
Then when we got to Detroit and I was
gainfully employed we received a letter
that my mother had been sick with lung
cancer, had a lung removed, but was okay.
She wanted a letter back from me telling
her I loved her. I did so immediately.
Next we received a phone call from her
attorney saying she was dying and was
asking for me. Janet and I were in
Florida that night, and arriving at the
hospital was told she passed away at
roughly 6AM. I was hastily invited to my
mothers home by my half-brothers &
sisters along with my stepfather,
everyone was shocked to see us. Back in
Detroit I received an already probated
will leaving me completely out. It had
been changed two weeks before her death.
As this was in reality my grandfathers
money I contested the will. The amounts
were in the millions. Two years later
after countless interviews, court dates,
depositions etc I lost. But my
stepfathers influence and evil planning
had been exposed from bribing witnesses,
having family members lie, finally from
what we could tell bribing a judge.
My stepfather stripped me of everything
he could, even the mementos my
grandfather wanted me to have. I was
given an unsigned letter from my
grandfather 5 pages my mother had never
given me asking me to take the Rentschler
name, which I promptly did. My wife and I
are still living in Detroit Michigan,
struggling but doing our best to keep our
eyes on JESUS. It’s been hard but
the LORD has had mercy and helped us
forgive.
From the evidence gathered from the
lawsuit it was brought to light my mother
had undergone extensive chemotherapy,
with days of extreme illness. Next the
cancer spread to her brain. The last
month of her life she had a permanent
shunt put in her to help with the pain.
Also during the last month she suffered
from severe seizures from the spreading
cancer. She also experienced short-term
and long term memory loss. Both my wife
Janet and I firmly believe her faith in
JESUS CHRIST regardless of many of her
works, allowed her a place in heaven
dressed in the garment of righteousness.
Janet & I are looking forward to that
reunion with her and others soon to take
place.
Thank you for reading this, all honor,
glory, wisdom, we humbly give to our LORD
JESUS
CHRIST,
THE ETERNAL FATHER, and HIS PRECIOUS HOLY
SPIRIT, AMEN:
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