The Reverend Freak

Rudy V, former host of the Quiet Storm on KRNB-105.7 FM, said that at the height of his passion for Agape Fellowship, he would do anything for his bishop. So would a lot of people.

"There was an obsession with the man," Rudy V said in an interview in his Mansfield home in 2005, a year before he started his radio gig at Dallas' KSOC-94.5 FM--"K-SOUL." The smooth-talking radio host started attending Agape in 2000 after gospel singer Kevin Thornton spoke highly of the church one Sunday morning when he appeared on Rudy V's religious-themed morning show.

Rudy V, born Kevyn Matthew Williams, was intrigued. From Monday through Thursday, he invited listeners to come with him to see this Bishop Hornbuckle preach. Rudy V described it as "invigorating."

He was so taken by Hornbuckle that he'd play clips of his sermons on the Sunday morning show. Each week, he'd implore his listeners--mostly women--to visit Agape. He became enthralled with the bishop's constant preaching about tithes and the potential wealth that would come to him if he'd just give, give, give a little more of his own money to the church.

Rudy V said he vividly remembers scrounging for change in his 400-square-foot apartment in north Arlington, terrified that something calamitous would happen to him if he didn't come up with his tithe every week.

"If I didn't have that whole tithe," he said, "either I was going to get struck down, or if I got too close to [the bishop] he would get killed."

Everyone had good reason to believe such things, Rudy V said, especially because of the placards. Some Sundays, Hornbuckle might call up a group of volunteers from the audience and hand them signs to hold up at the front of the church.

On one side were the tragedies that would befall the congregation if they failed to tithe: disease, divorce, loss of job, loss of home, children gone wild. But there was hope. A tithing church member could hope for "increase." More wealth. More happiness. More stability.

Eventually, Rudy V met his third wife at the church. Hornbuckle counseled them and would later preside over their wedding. When they missed three Sundays right after the wedding because of traveling, something happened that turned Rudy V off forever.

He'd already had a few problems getting the church to accurately report his yearly donations, but he'd decided to overlook that. Then, after those three Sunday absences, he said, Elder Eben Conner gave him a call. He noticed the church hadn't received any tithes from Rudy V. Would he go ahead and send them now?

Rudy told him they'd gladly tithe the full amount when they returned. But Rudy V said Conner replied, "You're being unfaithful to your tithes. You don't have any reason to wonder why you're not syndicated." (Conner didn't return phone calls requesting an interview.)

Rudy V was crushed. Syndication was something the DJ had been praying for. And in that moment of despair, he said he realized God didn't need his money. Not right then at that very moment, anyway. He would no longer allow himself to be pressured to give. He wrote a letter resigning his church membership the next day. That was in 2002.

Some days he would feel like he'd disappointed God with his finances. But the guilt was nothing like what he felt when he got a call one day from Joycelyn's dad--his close friend, Chris. Rudy V was driving when the phone rang.

"The bishop raped my baby," Chris reportedly said, voice cracking.

Rudy V pulled over into the nearest parking lot and threw up. He'd spread the bishop's name all over the metroplex to his women listeners. He shared in the blame.

"I was responsible for leading so many people there," Rudy V said. "Especially so many ladies...I don't know if I'll ever not be reminded of it."

Judgment Day

After eight hours of deliberations, the jury had agreed on a sentence. Now everyone crammed into the courtroom one last time to hear whether Terry Hornbuckle would be blessed with probation or condemned to jail.

Days earlier, the jury of nine women and three men--all white except for one black man--took 37 hours to arrive at a verdict: No one could say they'd rushed to judgment. Hornbuckle had been found guilty of the rapes of Krystal Buchanan, "Jane Doe" and "Kate Jones"--the latter two legal pseudonyms. Hornbuckle had pleaded not guilty, and his defense team rested without calling any witnesses, saying only that the prosecution had not met its burden to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.

One could easily speculate that the names of the bishop's women--Krystal, Jane, Kate, Rachel, Joycelyn, Rosita, Alisa, Mary, Lisa--were swimming around in Renee Hornbuckle's head that final day of court. Anything could be possible behind those silver-tinted lenses and that stoic expression. Here was a woman whose faith was on trial every day her husband had been seated at the defense table.