Loading summary
Transcript5 lines
- [00:02]
A
Hi listeners, it's Vanessa. Before we get into today's episode, I want to tell you about another show I think you'll love. Hidden history with Dr. Harini Bhat. Every Monday, Dr. Bhatt goes where history gets mysterious. Vanished civilizations, doomsday prophecies, paranormal phenomena and events that science still can't fully explain. Dr. Bot treats these moments like open case files. Not myth myths, not superstition. Just incomplete explanations waiting for a closer look. Hidden History drops every Monday. Follow now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you listen, so you never miss a mystery.
- [00:52]
B
This is crime house.
- [00:58]
A
On June 20, 1988, seven days into a fast with no food or Water, a 53 year old woman named Lonnie Morris picked up her diary and tried to write. Her handwriting, once, neat and careful, had become barely legible. Her thoughts drifted. She'd started the week writing about tingling sensations and spiritual breakthroughs. Now she was writing about cake, about tea, about the cold she couldn't shake and the aches she couldn't explain. She scrawled one final readable line. My first drink will be tomorrow night. I hope I can last that long. After that, her entries turned to scribbles. Then they stopped altogether. Lonni had traveled hundreds of miles and paid $700 to starve herself. Under the guidance of people who promised it would set, she believed she was on the path to enlightenment. In reality, she was on the path to organ failure. And the woman whose book convinced Lonnie to do this? She wasn't there. She was on tour, selling more copies. From UFO cults and mass suicides to secret CIA experiments, presidential assassinations, and murderous doctors, these aren't just theories. They're real stories that blur the line between fact and fiction. I'm Vanessa Richardson and this is Conspiracy Theories, Cults and Crimes, a Crime House original powered by Pave Studios. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I'll explore the real people at the center of the world's most shocking events and nefarious organizations. These cases are wild and I want to hear what you think at the end of each episode. Please leave a comment wherever you listen. Be sure to rate, review and follow follow so we can continue building this community together. And for ad free access to all three weekly episodes, subscribe to Crime House plus on Apple Podcasts. Today. I'm talking about Breatharianism, a movement built on the idea that human beings don't actually need food, that we can survive on sunlight, fresh air, and the energy of the universe alone. The idea first went mainstream in the 1980s when a man named Wiley Brooks brought the concept to American television. It grew from there. And in the 90s, an Australian woman named Jasmuheen used books, seminars and a detailed 21 day fasting plan to take the movement global. That's also when the consequences turned deadly. At least six deaths have been directly linked to the Breatharian movement. Four of those are tied to Jasmuheen's instructions alone. The scariest part? The movement isn't shrinking, it's growing. All that and more coming up. The idea that a person can live without eating is older than you might think. And it didn't start on a talk show or with a blog post. It started in temples. Ancient Hindu texts, including the Ramayana, describe saints who survived on nothing but sunlight and air. The practice was called enidya, a Latin word that means fasting. In parts of India, holy men have claimed to practice it for centuries. It was a mark of spiritual mastery, of transcendence over the body's most basic demands. To this day, these claims pop up. An Indian man named Prahlad Johnny spent years insisting he was one of these holy men. In 2003, he invited doctors to observe him. No food, no water, just prayer. He wasn't caught eating and he lost serious weight. He tried it again in 2010 with the same result. Problem is, if he'd truly been practicing Inedia for decades, losing weight only when people were actually watching would be more than a little suspicious. Still, that didn't make the concept any less popular. And once it made its way to America, it picked up a new name, Breatharianism. The exact origins of the term are murky. Comedian Dick Gregory used it as a joke in his 1973 book Natural Diet for Folks who Eat, poking fun at people with extreme dietary restrictions. That's widely considered the first appearance. But a writer named Kenyon Clementi had actually written a book called Breatharianism back in the 1950s. In it, he drew on Daoist monks who claimed to sustain themselves on pure energy. Clementi's book was incredibly obscure, but he circulated pamphlets, and those pamphlets earned a few passing mentions in small newspapers. Just enough for the idea to start drifting into fringe communities. One of those communities was Temple Beautiful, a diet cult based in Philadelphia. Temple Beautiful wasn't a Breatharian group. They pushed extreme fasting, fruit only diets, that sort of thing. But the culture of deprivation was there. And for some members, the line between extreme dieting and not eating at all wasn't much of a leap. In 1979, a man named David Bloom fell In with Temple Beautiful. David had heard of Breatharianism and decided to use the cult's extreme fasting as a springboard, a way to wean himself off food entirely. He cut his intake down to small amounts of wheatgrass and fruit juice. Nothing else. He lost weight fast, and then he caught the flu. And his body, already pushed to the edge, couldn't fight back. David succumbed to pneumonia on October 6, 1979. He was 6ft tall and weighed 87 pounds. Because Temple Beautiful hadn't specifically endorsed Breatharianism, and because his cause of death was technically pneumonia, no one was held responsible. Soon, David Bloom became a footnote. But the idea that killed him kept growing, and it only gained steam when a man named Wiley Brooks entered the picture. Born in 1936 in Tennessee, Wiley joined the Air Force after high school, then pivoted to freelance radio work. He even spent some time as a promoter for Motown Records. But entertainment wasn't his calling. According to Wiley, his health started failing in his late 20s. Fatigue, hair loss, early onset arthritis. At 28, he said the decline pushed him to look for answers in years. Yoga, Eastern spirituality, books on alternative medicine and philosophy. And somewhere in that search, he discovered Enedia. Wiley said that when he started fasting, he felt better than he had in years. His energy came back, his hair grew in. He was a new man. It's definitely possible that he found Kenyon Clementi's writings because Wiley went on to adopt many of the same ideas. He claimed for food was an addiction like cigarettes or alcohol, and that humans had originally evolved as Breatharians before becoming dependent on eating. Despite all that, Wiley never gave Clementi any credit. What Wiley did do was get himself on television. In October of 1980, 44 year old Wiley appeared on an ABC show called that's incredible. He lifted 1,100 pounds on camera, nearly 10 times his body weight, and told the stunned host that he'd gotten so strong by giving up food entirely. He said he hadn't eaten in 19 years. The audience was captivated. But a few months earlier, the LA Times had published a very different version of the story. On June 19, 1980, the LA Times ran a profile on WY as a weightlifter who could lift almost 10 times his body weight. A similar premise to the TV appearance he'd do a few months later. But in this article, Wiley freely admitted to eating food. He said he stuck to fruit and fruit juice most of the time, but ate all kinds of food socially when he was out with friends and at family gatherings. That directly contradicted the claim he'd made on national television that he hadn't touched food in nearly two decades. But the LA Times piece was local. The TV segment was national. So the newspaper article faded, the talk show didn't. And with his face on screen, Wiley Brooks got his first real surge of fame. He booked more shows, more radio spots, and used every appearance to lay out his philosophy. Food is poison. The body can be trained to live without it. He'd found the path. He was healthier and happier than ever. And now he wanted to share that path with the world. Because, according to him, humanity was heading toward a food crisis. God had told him so. That's right. Wiley framed Breatharianism as a kind of spiritual Christianity. He talked about Jesus, but he also talked about beings from other dimensions who could influence our lives. Sometimes they sounded like aliens, sometimes like biblical figures, sometimes like people who lived on an idealized version of Earth that existed in a parallel dimension. The. The specifics changed depending on who he was talking to and when, but the core pitch stayed the same. The end was coming, and Breatharianism was the key to surviving it. Wiley said he wanted to spread his message because he genuinely believed he could save people. And he was good at sounding like he meant it. On camera, he came across as calm, earnest and physically impressive. He didn't rant, he didn't foam at the mouth. He just lifted extraordinary amounts of weight and told you with a straight face to that he hadn't eaten in 19 years. Of course, you couldn't just stop eating, Wiley said. You had to prepare your body first with a transitional diet of foods that had a yellow, vibrational quality. Chicken, corn, papaya, certain ice cream flavors, literally yellow food. Only then could you make the leap. And if you wanted the full roadmap, Wiley was happy to share for a fee. Lectures started at $10. A five day intensive seminar ran $500. By 1981, Wiley had built enough of a following to make a move. He claimed God told him to relocate from Santa Monica to Boulder, Colorado, where the air was cleaner. A handful of followers came with him. But clean air wasn't the only reason for the trip. Wiley told his followers that God had revealed something else. On May 14, there was going to be a nuclear war. God told him that Boulder would survive. So Wiley led his people to an abandoned house, told them God said it was his now, and they moved in to wait for the apocalypse. Two days before Armageddon, on May 12, Wiley and three followers were arrested for trespassing. May 14 came and went. The world kept turning. Wiley got out of jail in June. He never mentioned the nuclear war again. Instead, he went back to what worked talk shows, radio spots, and finding new followers. He settled in Larkspur in the Bay Area, which is where he met a 33 year old woman named Lovell Leffler. She was deeply interested in yoga, meditation and Eastern spirit spirituality. She even believed in Enedia. More importantly, she had office space he could use. Together they founded the Breatharian Institute. Wiley traveled the Bay Area giving talks while Le Vell promoted them. And over the next year, they accumulated 400 followers, enough to appoint additional leaders to keep things organized. Wiley and Le Vell also started dating. For a brief window, everything seemed to be working. Then Lovell watched Wiley eat an omelet. According to Lovell, the unraveling started about six weeks into their relationship. When she didn't react to the omelet, Wiley stopped hiding. He ate in front of her all the time. She said he'd sneak out to fast food places and gas stations late at night, keeping up appearances for his followers while eating behind their backs. Eventually, they broke up. But if Lovell warned anyone about Wiley's deception, she did it quietly and stayed involved in the movement. The real fallout came in the fall of 1983, when Wiley and a group of followers traveled to Vancouver to give lectures. There, some of his followers found the evidence themselves. Room service trays outside his hotel door, containers of chili and chicken pot pie in his trash. When leaders confronted him back in Larkspur, Wiley denied everything. Then he pivoted. He argued the movement's message didn't rest entirely on whether he ate or not. He said Breatharianism was really about harmony with the universe, about being healthier. The press caught wind and Lovell went public, telling reporters everything. Wiley called her a scorned ex girlfriend, making up lies. But it was too late. 13 of their 15 top leaders resigned. The headquarters folded and the In Person movement collapsed. Wiley didn't disappear, though tabloids still booked him. He kept preaching remotely, eking out a living from the gullible and offering up vague crumbs of wisdom on talk shows. And even as Wiley's credibility cratered, the broader idea of Breatharianism was already taking root in unexpected places. Actress Michelle Pfeiffer later revealed that she'd been pulled into a small Breatharian circle in Hollywood sometime in the early 80s. It was just a couple and a few friends. Nothing organized, nothing formal. But they asked her for money constantly and pushed her toward extreme diets. Even when the fasting made her feel sick. She didn't fully grasp what was happening. It wasn't until her then husband, actor Peter Horton, started researching a different cult for a film that Pfeiffer recognized the patterns. She got out. It was a small story, but it showed something important. Breatharianism didn't need a headquarters to spread. It just needed an idea and a willing audience. And now that Wiley Brooks was out, the door was wide open for someone new. Someone who was would take Breatharianism from a curiosity to a body count. Wiley Brooks was exposed as a fraud in 1983. But the idea of Breatharianism didn't die with his credibility. It just needed a new face. That face belonged to an Australian woman named Ellen Greville, though by the time the world heard of her, she was going by a different name, Jasmuheen. According to Jasmuheen, she'd always been drawn to yoga and eastern spirituality. And in 1993 the 36 year old decided to try Breatharianism herself. She said she started with a brutal seven day fast. No food and no water. She knew it could kill her, she did it anyway. Then for two weeks she drank only small amounts of fruit juice. By day 21 she stopped drinking anything at all and claimed she was fully sustained by the energy of the universe. It was a bold claim and she was eager to share it with anyone who would listen. But there were parts of her story Jasmuheen was less eager to discuss. Before she became a guru, Jasmuheen worked in finance. So did her husband, Jeffrey Ferguson. And the reason she doesn't talk about her previous career is that it ended in disgrace. In 1992, Jeffrey's company was busted for pension fraud. Jeffrey had stolen nearly a million dollars from elderly clients. He went to prison for two years. And although Jasmuheen was involved in the business, she wasn't convicted. When Jeffrey got out, Jasmuheen was already building her new life. She started public speaking in 1994 and began gathering followers. Over the next few years she took the playbook Wiley Brooks had written, talk shows, word of mouth, grandiose claims and refined it where Wiley's theology had been scattered. Mixing Christianity with aliens and interdimensional beings, Jasmuheen streamlined the pitch. She said the astral beings who unlocked one's abilities to live on light were actually the saints and prophets of the past, figures from every major religion. This made Breatharianism feel universal, something a person of any faith could connect with. Jasmuheen spoke in detail about the lifestyle. She said Breatharians need far Less sleep, that they had unlimited energy. She also admitted to the occasional cookie or bag of chips, maybe once a month. Never a full meal. She said she liked tea. These small confessions made her seem approachable, relatable, human. Then she published the instructions. Jasmuheen posted her 21 day fasting protocol online. 7 days with no food or water. Then 2 weeks of small amounts of juice, then nothing. In March of 1997, a 31 year old kindergarten teacher from Germany named Timo Degan decided to try it. Timo made it to day 12 before he collapsed and was hospitalized. He slipped into a coma. He actually woke up and was recovering, but his body was so weak that he fell, hit his head and died from the injury. Jasmuheen wasn't deterred. If anything, she doubled down. In 1998 she published a book called Living on Light which laid out the 21 day fast in even greater detail. The book went global and she started booking paid seminars all over the world. Some that charged up to $2,000 a seat. That's how her next victim found their way to Breatharianism. Before she ever heard of Jasmuheen, Lonnie Morris was a 53 year old woman living in Melbourne, Australia. She was curious by nature. She read a lot, explored new ideas and wasn't afraid to try something unconventional. She was interested in alternative health and holistic living. The sort of person who might try an herbal remedy before reaching for a pill. She wasn't naive, she wasn't reckless. She was searching for something, a way to feel better, to live more deliberately. And in mid-1998 that search led her to Jasmuheen's book, Living on Light. Lani read about the 21 day cleanse and decided it was worth trying. The promise was extraordinary. Complete the process and you'd never need food again. You'd have more energy, more clarity, more connection to the universe. For someone already inclined to experience explore the edges of wellness culture, it must have felt like the logical next step. She didn't do it alone. Just a flight away in Brisbane, a Breatharian couple named Jim and Eugenia Pesnack offered a supervised retreat for $700. They'd rent out a caravan on their property and walk you through the fast. Jim would keep watch, keep food and water out of reach so you wouldn't be tempted. You could quit anytime. The caravan wasn't locked, but Jim and Eugenia would strongly encourage you to finish. They were personally endorsed by Jasmuheen. Lonnie made the trip and started her fast on June 13, 1998. She kept a diary. Her first entries were hopeful. She wrote about tingling sensations. She believed those were signs that the process was working. She was excited. But within the first week, things fell apart. Lonnie wrote about her mind slowing down, about finding it hard to concentrate. She described aches that seemed to come from nowhere, a cold that wouldn't leave, an itch she couldn't explain. As her thoughts scattered, something interesting happened. She started questioning things. She wondered why Jasmuheen only toured wealthy countries in North America and Europe and never went to the parts of the world where people were actually starving. It was a devastating observation, and it was one of her last coherent ones. Lonnie's handwriting deteriorated as the days wore on. After the first week, she wrote, my first drink will be tomorrow night. I hope I can last that long. After that, her diary entries became illegible scribbles. Later that same day, Lonnie collapsed. She'd had a stroke. Jim found her right away. He'd been gardening and heard a thud in the caravan. Lonnie had lost control of her right side. She couldn't control her bodily functions and could no longer speak. Jim later said he thought Lonnie had stopped talking because she was being childish, that she was difficult and didn't want to finish the treatment. Eugenia put a diaper on her, and they kept going with the cleanse. They burned incense and played music. Because the stroke had coincided with the end of the first seven days, they began giving her fluids as the protocol allowed. But Lonnie couldn't keep anything down. They had a doctor on call, a fellow breatharian named Dr. William Moulton. They finally rang him on June 23, days after the stroke. As Lonnie's condition worsened, Moulton agreed with the Pesnaks. Lonnie was just resisting the cleansing. Even when she started vomiting black fluid, they waited. Even when her breathing grew labored, they waited. They eventually put a tube down her throat. Then they waited a few more hours before finally calling an ambulance. Four days after her stroke, Lonnie died on July 2, 1998. Her cause of death death, was renal failure and complications from the stroke. She was 53 years old. Jim and Eugenia Pesnack were arrested because Lonnie had volunteered for the fast. The legal situation was complicated, but the fact that she'd become incapacitated and that they'd continued the cleanse instead of seeking medical help opened the door to manslaughter charges. The trial started at the end of 1999. Both pleaded not guilty. Dr. Molton testified that Lonnie might have died because that was simply what she wanted. He pointed out that other people, himself included, had survived the cleanse. Jasmuheen was called to speak. She said people shouldn't attempt the 21 day fast unless they were spiritually and physically fit. The jury deliberated for three hours until they announced their voice verdict. Jim and Eugenia were guilty of manslaughter. Judge Margaret Wilson sentenced Jim to four years and Eugenia to two. The judge made a point of saying that anyone forcibly subjecting someone to a starvation diet could expect severe consequences. Jasmuheen never accepted any responsibility. And that same year, while the Peznaks were going to trial, Jasmuheen was on tour in the UK where she captured the attention of her next victim.
- [25:15]
B
On this show, we're always digging for the truth, yet modern healthcare remains one of the greatest mysteries of all. Everyone deserves real medical support. And that's why I want to talk about Mochi Health. Mochi is a nationwide platform that's bringing humanity and transparency back to healthcare by treating your unique biology. Not a fad. They've already helped 400,000 members lose over £5 million. And while they lead the way in weight loss, Mochi is now a full scale Marketplace for over 120 treatments ranging from hair and skin care to longevity, mental health and specialized men's and women's health. After you complete an eligibility form, you'll receive a telehealth evaluation with a partnered provider on Mochi's platform to build a plan personalized for your specific body and goals. You'll have 247 access to your provider and specialized medications from a network of licensed pharmacies delivered right to your door. No waiting rooms or hidden fees. You just pay for your membership and your medication. It's personalized care that actually treats you like a human being. Stop leaving your health up to an algorithm, go to joinmochi.com
- [26:30]
A
Verity Lynn was 49 years old and worked at the Findhorn Foundation, a well known spiritual retreat in northeast Scotland. Findhorn is a real tourist destination, a place that encourages visitors to explore all kinds of spiritual ideas and alternative philosophies. For Verity, it wasn't just a workplace, it was a world she'd lived in for years. She also taught at a local college nearby. She'd been there long enough to earn a six month sabbatical and with her 50th birthday approaching, she was planning the trip of a lifetime. At least one country on every continent except Antarctica. It was supposed to be a celebration, a fresh start for a new decade of her life. Verity was no stranger to alternative spirituality. She'd spent years surrounded by it at Findhorn. But somewhere in the planning process, she picked up Jasmuheen's book and decided to kick off her journey with the 21 day fast. She must have known her colleagues would think it was too extreme because she didn't tell anyone. The night before she started fasting, she went out to dinner with friends and said nothing. On September 4, 1999, Verity began her journey. Two days later she took a bus to a remote lake in the Highlands, or Loch, as it's called in Scotland. She'd bought a new tent and supplies and wanted to test her gear and familiar terrain before. Before heading overseas, she hiked two and a half miles out and set up camp alone. In her diary, Verity was excited. She wrote about cleansing her body, about preparing spiritually for the new millennium. As the days passed, she wrote about feeling sicker and weaker. But she didn't stop. Her Last entry was September 11th. She described the beauty of the lock and how thrilled she was for the rest of her trip. Then the entries stopped. A fisherman found her body five days later, on September 16. She was about a hundred yards from her tent. Her cause of death was a combination of hypothermia and dehydration. Coming so soon after Lonnie Morris, the media immediately turned to Jasmuheen for comment. Jasmuheen said she could cried for two days. But she also said that blaming her for these deaths would be like blaming a car manufacturer for crashes. She said Verity hadn't followed the routine properly. Then her explanations took a stranger turn. Jasmuheen claimed she could communicate with ascended beings on what she called the cosmic telephone. She said one of the beings she spoke to most often was a historical figure figure known as Saint Germain, an alchemist who supposedly lived for centuries. She said she talked to St. Germain about Verity's death. He told her it had been peaceful. More than that. He said Verity's death had been planned. That Verity herself had consented to die on some spiritual level in order to bring attention to the Breatharian movement. Jasmuheen seemed to believe all press was was good press. But most of the coverage was scathing. With three deaths now linked to her 21 day fast, the pressure was on. The Australian branch of 60 Minutes launched an investigation. They visited her mansion in Brisbane and found a fully stocked fridge. Jasmuheen said it was her husband's food. When journalists asked how many followers she had, she said 180 million 60 minutes challenged her to prove it. To simply complete the first week of the fast she'd been prescribing to others. Jasmuheen agreed. She said she was eager to show the world once and for all. In December of 1999, the experiment began in a hotel with doctors and round the clock security monitoring 42 year old Jasmuheen. After just two days. Days she was showing signs of dehydration. She blamed the hotel's air quality. They moved to a remote house in the mountains where the air was fresh. Two more days passed. Then 60 Minutes pulled the plug. Jasmuheen's kidneys were in danger of permanent damage. She'd lost 14 pounds in four days. Jasmuheen said the bad air in the hotel had poisoned her before, before the move and she couldn't recover in time. But it didn't matter. Afterwards, she went right back to preaching. Okay, I want to pause here for a minute because this is one of the most frustrating parts of this story. Jasmuheen was never found criminally liable for any of the deaths linked to the 21 day fast. And she does tell people the process can be dangerous. But she nearly suffered permanent kidney damage after just four days of her own protocol. So what do you think? Do you think she ever really followed her own instructions? And what kind of responsibility do you think she should have taken? Let us know in the comments, wherever you listen. I'd love to know what you think she should have done after all this happened. Personally, I just can't get past it. Clearly her methods were dangerous and she knew it. It. That's probably why Jasmuheen softened some of her claims. As the years passed, she dropped the 100 million follower claim, scaling it back to thousands. She said she now believed a hybrid model was best and admitted to eating around 300 calories a day. But she never stopped selling. She held retreats in Thailand where followers could pay to be isolated in dark, dark rooms and given nothing but water and fruit juice for nine days. Meanwhile, the Breatharian movement kept mutating. Over the 2000s and 2010s, a handful of fashion models pointed to it as a way to maintain their figures. In 2007, a man named Michael Werner claimed he hadn't eaten since New Year's Eve 2001. He said he'd participated in studies, studies proving this, but provided no evidence. In 2010, filmmaker Pa Strobinger released a documentary called in the Beginning, there was light profiling. Werner and the Indian Guru Pro Lad Johnny. The film brought another wave of attention to the movement, and at the start of 2011, that attention turned deadly again. A Swiss woman whose name has been withheld watched the documentary, picked up Jasmuheen's book, and followed the 21 day protocol. But she took things even further, spitting out her own saliva to speed up the process. She died by the end of January 2011. Jasmuheen was once again not found responsible. Two years later, in 2013, a woman named Naveena Shine attempted a a 100 day fast to test whether Breatharianism was really possible. She documented the process online, and as she grew visibly weaker, people following along worried she'd be the next casualty. Thankfully, she stopped before suffering any serious health consequences. But the publicity from Naveena's experiment brought yet another wave of interest in the movement, and a few outlets checked in with Wild Wiley Brooks to see what the original American guru had been up to. By 2013, 77 year old Wiley was still preaching Breatharian values. He'd never stopped selling expensive workshops, and he'd added a new product to his lineup. $10,000 bottles of water he claimed were the only non radioactive substance on earth. His stance on food had softened in odd specific ways. He now said the double quarter pounder with cheese meal from McDonald's was actually beneficial, which conveniently explained why people sometimes spotted him at McDonald's. In a 2014 interview with Vice, Wiley said he'd been reincarnated multiple times and carried knowledge from his past lives. He said that one of those lives was John the Baptist. He also said the Illuminati were plotting against him. It was his last major interview. Wiley Brooks died of natural causes in 2016 at the age of 80. But Breatharianism didn't need him anymore. And in 2017, the trend came back bigger than ever. In June 2017, an outlet called News Dog Media profiled a California based couple couple named Akani Ricardo and Camila Costello, who were publicly endorsed by Jasmuheen. They said they'd converted to breatharianism in 2008 and hadn't eaten for years afterward. Camila said she even went through a pregnancy without food in 2012, claiming her son was nourished by her love. They'd relaxed since then, eating small amounts a few times a week, and they said they fed their children a normal diet. But they insisted that the lifestyle had given them freedom, health and the time and money to travel the world. They also sold a program teaching others how to follow in their footsteps. The tabloids went wild, and the story went viral. It brought a new audience to Breatharianism, which of course brought a fresh wave of criticism from doctors and nutritionists, warning that the claims were medically impossible and potentially fatal. Akahi responded to the backlash with a statement that was almost comically dismissive. He said, we all know there is energy in nature, so there's no way this can be dangerous. Five months later, Breatharianism claimed its next victim. In November of 2017, the malnourished body of 22 year old Finn Bogumio, a German man living in Dominica, was discovered. His cause of death was starvation. Nine months before that, he'd written his mother a letter explaining Breatharianism to her. He told her it was a healthier, more enlightened way of living. It's important to note that Finn did have a history of mental illness and drug use. Other factors may have been at place play, but the investigation into his death traced his interest in Breatharianism directly back to Strobinger's 2010 documentary. Because the letter predated Akahi and Camila's press circuit, they weren't the ones who inspired him, but the pipeline was the same. A piece of media, a compelling idea, and no one around to stop him when things went wrong. Finn was the sixth person who whose death has been linked to the movement. His story barely made the news. Six deaths, six people. David Bloom in Philadelphia. Timo Degan in Germany. Lonnie Morris in Australia. Verity Lynn in Scotland. An unnamed woman in Switzerland. And Finn Bogumu in Dominica. Different stories, different decades, different languages, all connected by a single idea that the human body doesn't need food. And here's what haunts me about this one. Most of the cults we cover on this show have a compound, a commune, a charismatic leader holding court in person. They operate in a closed system. But Breatharianism doesn't work that way. People find a book or a documentary or a viral article and they try it alone, in caravans, in tents, in apartments no one's checking on. The isolation isn't imposed by a leader. It's built into the practice. That's what makes it so dangerous. You don't have to join anything, you don't have to move anywhere. You just have to believe hard enough to stop eating. And by the time your body tells you it was a mistake, you may be too weak to do anything about it. Loni Morris figured it out. She questioned it in her diary. She saw through the logic. But by the time those doubts took shape, she'd already had a stroke. The Clarity came too late. Six is the number we know about. With deaths scattered across continents, reported in different languages and subject to different privacy laws, the real toll may be higher. And with Breatharianism only gaining more visibility, more viral moments, more influencer endorsements, and more slick programs to sell, there's no reason to think it stops here. Because some ideas are too dangerous to simply go away on their own. Especially when there's money to be made keeping them alive. For Cult Watch this week, I want to spotlight another group that weaponized ideas about food and faith. The Remnant Fellowship Church. The church was founded in 1999 in Brentwood, Tennessee, by Gwen Shamblin Lara. One of its foundational teachings was that being overweight was a sin. The church pushed rapid weight loss and encouraged members to pray away their hunger. It also advocated physically hitting children to keep them in line. The church grew quickly, drawing in members who were looking for spiritual guidance around food and body image. At its peak, Remnant Fellowship had thousands of members across the United States. But beneath the surface, the culture was controlling. Former members have described an environment where questioning Gwen's authority was treated as a spiritual failing. In 2003, that controlling culture turned fatal. Joseph and Sonya Smith, a couple in the church. Church beat their eight year old son Joseph to death. When his body was found, he had older bruises. This wasn't the first time. The Smiths had previously told Gwen how they'd locked Joseph in his room with nothing but a Bible for three days as punishment. Gwen praised their parenting. After the murder, Gwen distanced herself, claiming the church had only ever endorsed spanking as a last resort. Police investigated and raided Remnant Fellowship in the summer of 2004, but couldn't prove anyone else was culpable. The Smiths went to trial in early 2007 and were sentenced to life in prison plus 30 years. In 2021, Gwen Shamblin Lara died in a plane crash at the age of 66. But the church didn't die with her. Her children, Michael and Hannah now help lead the congregation. A child died, two members went to prison. The leader is gone, and the church is still standing. If that sounds familiar, it should. That's exactly how Breatharianism works, too. The body count rises and the movement just keeps going foreign. Thanks so much for listening. I'm Vanessa Richardson and this is Conspiracy Theories, Cults and Crimes. Come back next time. We'll decode the episode together and hear another story about the real people at the center of the world's most notorious cults. Conspiracies and criminal acts. Conspiracy theories Cults and Crimes is a Crime House original powered by Pave Studios. Here at Crime House, we want to thank each and every one of you for your support. If you like what you heard today, reach out on social media, Rimehouse on TikTok and Instagram. Don't forget to rate, review and follow Conspiracy Theories, Cults and Crimes wherever you get your podcasts. Your feedback truly makes a difference. And to enhance your Conspiracy Theories, Cults and Crimes listening experience, subscribe to Crime House plus on Apple Podcasts. You'll get every episode ad free. We'll be back on Friday. Conspiracy Theories, Cults and Crimes is hosted by me, Vanessa Richardson and is a Crime House original powered by Pave Studios. This episode was brought to life by the Conspiracy Theories, Cults and Crimes team. Max Cutler, Ron Shapiro, Alex Benidon, Natalie Pertovsky, Lori Marinelli, Alyssa Fox, Bethany Branson, Leah Roesch, Kaylee Pine, and Michael Langsner. Thank you for listening. Do you want to sneak past the crime scene tape to explore the key evidence behind some of the most gripping true crime cases? I'm Morgan Absher. And I'm Kaylin Moore and we'd love for you to check out our new show, Clues. Each Wednesday, I piece together the timelines and break down the hard facts, digging into forensic details, investigative techniques, and everything that led to justice or didn't. And while Kaelyn dives into the facts, I'm pulling at the threads, digging through the Internet theories and looking at the details that may or may not add up. From serial killers to shocking cold cases, we shine a light on the stories that have been waiting, sometimes for decades, to finally be heard. So join us as we we uncover the breakthroughs, the heartbreak, and the relentless pursuit of answers behind the world's most unforgettable investigations. Come open a case file with us every Wednesday and listen to clues wherever you get your podcasts.