THE disciplinary boarding school for troubled teens that's in the limelight of a Netflix exposé will be investigated after multiple victims came forward with physical and sexual abuse allegations.
Officials in St. Lawrence, New York, announced on Monday that they're probing the allegations against the old private institution Academy at Ivy Ridge in rural Ogdensburg.
St. Lawrence District Attorney Gary M. Pasqusa confirmed that local officials have received numerous reports of physical and sexual abuse since the release of the Netflix docuseries The Program: Cons, Cults, and Kidnapping.
Pasqua said that each and every claim would be taken seriously and vetted extensively by St. Lawrence investigators to determine what action, if any, can be taken.
"Something is being done," assured Pasqua.
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"It's going to take time […] this is not going to be a quick resolution," he added, noting that some of the allegations are more than 20 years old.
"But any resolution we can come up with, we're going to try and do that. But people are going to have to have some patience."
Pasqua urged any former Ivy Ridge students who believe they were victims of a crime to come forward.
"If people come forward, and we can charge anyone with a crime within the statute of limitations, then they will be charged with a crime — whoever it is."
Also, at the start of the presser, Pasqua warned people from going to the institution's location as there's still evidence there, and they are still collecting it and don't want it tampered with.
The attorney general's announcement comes after New York State Assemblyman Scott Gray called on Pasqua to conduct a "comprehensive investigation" into the allegations disclosed in the Netflix documentary.
"Our focus should be on holding those responsible accountable and ensuring the well-being of all individuals affected by the events at the Academy," Gray said in a statement to CBS affiliate WWNY-TV.
'SENSE OF JUSTICE'
The U.S. Sun exclusively reported that Jason Finlinson, the former director at Ivy Ridge, was terminated from his job as a safety manager at a Utah-based company days after the docuseries premiered on March 5.
Layton Construction confirmed to The U.S. Sun on Friday that Finlinson's last day at the company was on March 7.
When pressed by The U.S. Sun on what led to Finlinson's termination, Layton Construction declined to comment further, citing company policy.
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Julie Peyskahova, a former student enrolled at Ivy Ridge in 2005, described Finlinson's firing as a "sense of justice," admitting that she never thought any ramifications would come to those in charge at the school.
"I didn't expect any legal repercussions, but for me, justice is that people in these communities are going to see the names and faces of all these former staff members, and they will have to answer for what they did," Peyskahova told The U.S. Sun.
"They can no longer hide or try to lie, and for me, that gives a great sense of justice.
"The fact that two of the biggest abusers from Academy at Ivy Ridge have been fired from their jobs after just 2 days of the documentary release proves that the communities are outraged and refuse to let them get away with it, even all these years later."
Peyskahova believes this is only the beginning for former staff members at Ivy Ridge, calling for legal repercussions.
"After so many years of being told we wouldn’t be believed or we should just 'get over it,' it’s the most incredible feeling to know that not only are we believed, but we have real support surrounding us," she told The U.S. Sun.
"Of course I still believe they deserve legal repercussions more than anything. They are child abusers.
"But this is an amazing first step in holding those who are responsible for our abuse and trauma accountable."
DARK REALITY
The widespread abuse allegations at Ivy Ridge were back in the limelight on March 5 nearly 15 years after the school closed its doors in April 2009.
The Academy at Ivy Ridge opened in 2001 and was billed as a disciplinarian boarding school.
The institution's brochure promised hiking, team sports, horseback riding, group-based learning, and a place for troubled teenagers to ultimately thrive and reach their full potential.
However, the reality was much darker.
Ivy Ridge operated in affiliation with the controversial and scandal-ridden World Wide Association of Specialty Programs and Schools (WWASPS), founded by Mormon Robert Lichfield in 1998.
It was one of 20 WWASPS schools across three countries, giving it an aura of international scholastic authority.
But the Ogdensburg-based school was, in fact, primarily a highly lucrative de facto prison where vicious abuse went unchecked.
At its peak, Ivy Ridge had 600 students, all paying nearly $4,000 per month, allowing it to rake in over $20 million a year.
The school had a bizarre and convoluted points system designed to keep students in "the program" for as long as possible to ensure their parents kept shelling out tens of thousands of dollars a year in tuition.
However, many of the faculty members weren't even qualified to teach children, and the "diploma" that students received upon graduation from Ivy Ridge was worthless and not officially recognized by the state of New York.
'KIDNAPPED AND HANDCUFFED'
Eddie Curley's traumatic link with Ivy Ridge began in 2002 when, at the flick of a light switch in the early hours at his parent's home in Delaware, he was kidnapped from his bed by two combat-boot-wearing men.
Curley remembered the morning vividly, exclusively telling The U.S. Sun how, a week after his 17th birthday, he was handcuffed and thrown into the back of a Ford Taurus.
The journey from Delaware to Ogdensburg lasted hours, including a pit stop in New Jersey where Curely screamed out for help saying he had been kidnapped.
"I just started f**king screaming because I'm in handcuffs with two strange men in a Ford Taurus that doesn't look anything like a cop car," Curley recalled.
When he finally arrived at Ivy Ridge, he was greeted by the director, who was furious that he attempted to escape from the men.
Curley was dragged by his collar upstairs and ordered to shave off his beard with a single-blade Bic razor and cold water.
As he tried to do so, the director kept pushing him in the back, causing him to cut his face and neck.
"Why don't you look out the window," Curley remembers the director taunting him.
When he asked why, the director responded, "So I can tell everyone you tried to run again, and I'll put your face into the ground."
For Curley, his first few days at Ivy Ridge are a blur 22 years later.
But he remembers the burning resentment he felt toward his parents for sending him to such a facility.
Though he admitted to having typical rebellious teenage tendencies - attending parties and enjoying the occasional drink with friends -Curley was a good student, a very talented athlete, and by no means a troubled teen.
"I'm not gonna say I was some perfect angel because I wasn't, but I wasn't doing anything outlandish either," he admitted.
"I was a rebellious teen, but who wasn't?"
'MILITANT ENVIRONMENT'
Curley remembers Ivy Ridge as a militant environment where students were instructed to walk in single-file lines and forbidden from talking to one another or showing emotion.
Teachers encouraged students to snitch on one another for any infraction, however minor, and they rewarded them with points for doing so.
Those points could be used to redeem rewards and climb the program's ranks to unlock special privileges, including monthly phone calls home and the ability to talk.
However, points would also be frequently deducted by staff if any student was deemed to have disobeyed Ivy Ridge's extensive code of conduct.
Those without enough points to cover their infraction would be subject to hours of writing out the school's rules repeatedly and, in some cases, to physical punishment.
"If you got in trouble and you had no points, you would be asked to lie down on a tile floor on your stomach, with your legs straight out, your chin laying on the tile floor, and your arms by your side," Curley said of one such penalty, known as observed placement (OP).
"You'd have to lay in that position for 15 minutes and not move while a staff member watched you.
"And if you moved, they'd restrain you."
Curley said barely a day went by when he didn't witness staff physically restraining a child.
Students would be pinned to the ground for the smallest infractions, including looking out of the window for too long, Curley said.
He remembers one student, Brad, who was punished and restrained more often than any other.
"Brad would probably, today, be diagnosed with nonfunctioning autism, and he was restrained daily," remembered Curley.
"For nine months, I don't recall him ever being unrestrained. He was taken to the OP room all the time.
"This kid had been restrained in that room for so long, he had a boil the size of a half-dollar on his chin from an infection that I'm sure left him physically deformed.
"He would be physically thrown around the room and onto his chest, in almost the George Floyd position, with knees dug into his spine and neck."
Curley left Ivy Ridge in July 2003 after a nine-month stay.
He went back home to Delaware and moved out of his parent's home for good after just nine days.
More than anything else, he wanted to see Ivy Ridge and any iterations like it closed for good.
Appealing directly to parents considering sending their child to a troubled teen program, Curley said, "I would probably ask if they’re doing it to help their child, or if they’ll enjoy the convenience of their child’s solitude.
"Because that kid is going to be alone — for the rest of his life."
