With verdict, girls freed from Lee Kaplan's 'world'
On Tuesday, Lee Kaplan was convicted of raping or sexually assaulting six of the sisters who lived for years with him, whom he had declared his "wives." Now a judge will determine the future of the girls, who for much of their childhood were isolated from society.
The girls did not exist.
No medical records, no school enrollment, no Social Security numbers or birth certificates for most of them.
No friends, no birthday cards, no summer vacations.
The girls lived only in Lee Kaplan's world — not "in our world," as the abuser's attorney said — in a large, two-story white house in Feasterville with a blue door, surrounded by trees and overgrown grass, the windows covered, the backyard enclosed by a tall wooden fence. Inside, a survivalist's stash of supplies, one bed and some air mattresses, a plethora of tools, plants, and books, and an older man who concocted a religious faith that made him a prophet of God and made the girls he'd collected his servants.
On Tuesday, just 10 days shy of the one-year anniversary of his arrest, Kaplan was convicted by a Bucks County Court jury of raping or sexually assaulting six of the sisters who lived for years with him, whom he declared his "wives."
Now a judge will determine the future of the girls, who for much of their childhood were isolated from society.
Even within Kaplan's house, there were rooms without evidence of the females who lived there. Not a single toothbrush in the bathroom. No soap or other toiletries. No photos, posters, or toys.
"We needed to generate them as people," testified Stacy Roach, a Bucks County child caseworker, who began working with the family after the arrests of Kaplan and the parents of all but two of the girls. The four oldest, born when the family was still Amish, had birth certificates; the other seven did not.
Keeping them off paper helped keep them in the house. If, somehow, they did leave Kaplan, "they had nowhere to go" without Social Security numbers or the ability to work, said Deputy District Attorney Kate Kohler in her closing argument. "They would be forced to remain with him."
The case and its hair-raising accusations generated national attention. During a five-day trial that ended Tuesday, nearly 20 witnesses unspooled parts of the life that the Stoltzfus family had with Kaplan. It began with Daniel and Savilla Stoltzfus seeking financial help from him and ended with all but one of their daughters living in his home. Six of the daughters, now ages 9 to 19, described repeated and varying sexual acts with Kaplan, who had the only real bed in the house. Two moved in with him in 2011, after a few years of spending the night with him, and the rest had joined by 2013. The earliest abuse, of the oldest girl, began in 2008.
Testimony portrayed a family utterly taken in by a man they viewed as their superior, more powerful and more educated.
"He showed us a lot on living life, like, outside of the world we were raised in," Savilla Stoltzfus said in court. She repeatedly described being confused by what was going on in the family but believing she should learn about "new things," try to understand, and trust Kaplan.
When the youngest "wife" began sleeping with Kaplan at the age of a second grader, Savilla Stoltzfus testified, "it's not the way I would be planning on." But, she said, she tried to view the situation as good for her daughter, who was getting "way out ahead" in learning about things.
Stoltzfus, who had completed only eighth grade but had been an Amish schoolteacher before marrying her husband at 19, had taught her children at home. She allowed Kaplan to take a role in their education as well.
"I thought he had a better idea of how to pursue these things than I did," she said.
The Stoltzfuses believed in Kaplan's power and obeyed him, some of them testified.
"I wanted to be just like him," said Jacob Stoltzfus, 22, a brother of the girls, who broke from Kaplan and now lives in Florida. "He seemed knowledgeable, a man of God, just what I wanted to be."
Kohler argued that Kaplan controlled the girls with manipulation. "He didn't do so by keeping them in cages. … He kept them hidden by putting fear into their minds," Kohler said. "He created a world where he was the only person they could trust."
Never registered in a school district, they were not tracked by the officials responsible for homeschooled children. Neighbors reported they had never seen more than a few of them outside at a time, so they did not know so many lived in the house.
The girls were discovered only because a neighbor called in a tip to ChildLine, the state's child-abuse hotline, reporting sad-looking girls in blue dresses.
When county Children and Youth Services workers went to the house, Kaplan told them five children lived there. Investigators found 11.
If not for that, Kaplan and the children might have been left alone.
"That call wasn't for anything physically abusive, it wasn't for anything emotionally or sexually abusive," Kohler said. "So really, if they [had] just showed them the kids right away, and didn't lie and didn't cover things up, we may still not be here. Which is scary, actually."
The six girls who were abused, their younger sisters, one young brother, and Kaplan's two daughters with the oldest Stoltzfus child are together in a group home, in the custody of Children and Youth Services. They range in age from 1 to 19. They want to stay together, Kohler said.
Savilla Stoltzfus has said she wants to reunite with her children.
In child-custody cases, the court has hearings to review the children's well-being and the parents' fitness. It eventually will determine whether the children can be reunited with their mother and father, or whether the parental rights should be revoked, in which case the kids would be put up for adoption, said Judith Algeo, a Doylestown family-law attorney with Penglase & Benson, which represents Savilla Stoltzfus.
After a review, the court determines whether to change "the goal from reunification to adoption," Algeo said.
In their group home, already the girls "laugh more, they smile more," and they no longer respond to their caseworkers with silent eye rolls, Roach said. They go on bike rides and play with iPads. They are driven in school and music, talented and smart, Kohler said.
But they also distrust this world, and the six who testified said they still love and miss Kaplan.
In a conversation with their mother three months after Kaplan's arrest, recorded and played in court, the sisters talked about refusing to play with another foster child in their group home, complain about adults trying to make them use fluoride toothpaste, and opine that birthday celebrations are "straight out of witchcraft."
"I pray for them. I hope that they can overcome it," Kohler said.
Kaplan could spend the rest of his life in prison. A number of his 17 sexual abuse-related charges have 20- to 40-year maximums. Before sentencing, he must be evaluated to determine whether he is a sexually violent predator.
His attorney, Ryan Hyde, indicated immediately after the trial that he would explore the possibility of an appeal.
"There's a lot of steps left in this process," Hyde said. "There's a sentencing hearing, there's potentially [an] appellate process, there's transcripts that need to be looked at to make decisions about what cases if any to appeal."
Savilla Stoltzfus pleaded guilty to child endangerment in April. Daniel Stoltzfus pleaded no contest to the same charge. They are waiting to be sentenced.
In the end, Kohler said, she has "great hope" for the girls' future.
"Whether they think they were saved at this point … or not, I think they will at some point."
