Soon after the December 2012 publication of my true-crime Kindle Single God’s Nobodies: Misguided Faith and Murder in the Life of One American Family, I came under attack by supporters of the church at the center of the tragedy I wrote about. They claimed that I lied about their beloved minister to further an anti-Christian agenda and to sneer at their moral stand against homosexuality, when in fact the real purpose of my story was to show how the church’s cultish form of social control backfired badly and destroyed a family. The story examines the circumstances surrounding the death of Pam Ginocchetti at the hands of her son, Syracuse University student Tim Ginocchetti.
During my reporting for God’s Nobodies, and after its publication, I spoke to numerous former church members who confirmed various elements of what I had learned about the Ginocchettis’ experience. But one in particular, who just surfaced last week, tells a story so remarkably similar to Tim Ginocchetti’s — about a homophobia extreme enough, paired with obedience to a minister absolute enough, to tear a former church member from his family — that I want to share what he told me, with his permission.
Twenty years ago, on his 21st birthday, Michael Marasco came out to his family. He had feared their reaction as he grew up with the knowledge that he is gay, because of what he knew would be the minister’s response: condemnation, followed by pseudo-medical treatment of his condition. Marasco’s fears began to be realized when his mother sided with her church against her son. As he described it to me in an email:
I remember the Sunday after coming out to my family my mother stood up in church and announced that I told her I was gay and that she would never support my lifestyle decision. I walked out of the church, drove home packed my things….
That ended Marasco’s contact with his parents, sister, and brother — with everyone in his family and with whom he’d grown up in the church, other than family members who also had left the church — for many years. As I documented in God’s Nobodies, the minister counsels his members to shun defectors from the church, even immediate family members (he’s careful never to articulate his mandates unambiguously and publicly, but somehow it happens again and again that members heed his hints and act accordingly).
Marasco goes on to note the parallels between his life and Tim Ginocchetti’s: Marasco’s grandparents were the live-in caretakers of the church’s lakeside retreat property, Bethany Retreat (later on, Tim’s parents were the minister’s choice as caretakers; it’s where Tim grew up); Marasco’s mother and Pam Ginocchetti were close friends; Marasco was close friends with Timothy Lynch, the firefighter killed along with Tim’s father, John Ginocchetti, in the tragedy that began the Ginocchetti family’s unraveling.
Marasco fondly remembers the family before all of that:
At the end of services, John was always the first to greet me with his firm handshake and warm embrace. As we waited in line he would talk to me about electricity and construction (things he knew I loved doing with my grandfather growing up at Bethany). In my personal opinion John was one of the most real and down to earth people I met at church. I remember the first time John & Pam invited my family to their newly renovated caretakers home at Bethany (formerly my grandparents home) John showing me all of the new gadgets he had installed and Tim, so excited to show me his bedroom that once was mine during my frequent visits to my grandparents on weekends and during the summer when school was out. Pam too was an amazing host, welcoming us warmly into her home and preparing an Italian dinner of lasagna and meatballs (crazy how I remember that) which were enjoyed over casual conversation.
How this sweet, devoted family ended up so devastated, and its love turned to hate and bitterness, was the central question I pursued in God’s Nobodies. The answers always led back to the minister and the church.
In Marasco’s case, the rigid social rules of the church sent him into exile from his family. In Tim’s case, he stayed with his widowed mother. After her years of abuse over his effeminate ways and threats to subject Tim to the minister’s forceful intervention, Pam edged closer than ever to confronting Tim over his deeply hidden homosexuality. Just days after his 21st birthday, Tim exploded in anger and killed her. He is now nine years into a 15-year prison sentence. When his grandmother, Esther Rufo, stepped forward to describe the relationship between Tim and her daughter Pam, and revealed the role of the secretive church, she lost her husband of 50 years and virtually all contact with her remaining two children and grandchildren.
I never doubted the truth of what I wrote about the church’s methods and their destructive effects on some members’ lives. But I am grateful that Marasco had the courage to tell his story publicly.