HILDALE, Washington County — Pam Black was emancipated July 3, 1998.
That was the day the spunky auburn redhead was told to leave town by the polygamist leaders who had tried and failed to rule every aspect of her life. Her long-embattled — and only — husband of 31 years, Martin Black, also bucked church authority and left with her.
He turned over the keys of their home to the landlords, the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and moved the family to the outskirts of town. There, they lived in a trailer home sitting on family-owned land he kept in a trust — never heeding the church requirement that all men turn over their land.
That night she said they "watched the fireworks, and we were so free. It was the most beautiful thing in the world."
Now, five years later, Pam Black, 52, is about to become an even bigger thorn in the side of the strict patriarchal hierarchy of the FLDS Church, which considers women and children as its property.
Within months, Black will become one of the few — if not only — female landowners in the twin border towns of Hildale and Colorado City, Ariz., where about 10,000 church members make up the nation's largest polygamist enclave.
Breaking away from the church could not save their marriage. Martin, 62, died last August, a week before their divorce became final.
The 3 1/2 acres remained in a trust for their 14 children, and the two oldest boys are now turning it over to their mother, who lives in one trailer with her five remaining children at home.
Black — now the family matriarch — says holding the deed in her hand will not only be her proudest moment, it will be her bold statement to church leaders on behalf of all the women in town.
"We do have rights," she declares.
The executive director of a leading anti-polygamy group said many women who decide to walk away from these communities often do it only with the clothes on their backs.
"This will set a precedent for families who want to be homeowners, especially women," Vicky Prunty of Salt Lake City said. She called Black "very fortunate. That doesn't happen at all."
Prunty wondered, however, if it wouldn't be better for Black to make a complete break from the community.
"Maybe she should sell it, or have all of us come over there and rent to people like us so we can give her support," Prunty said.
Being on the outs with church leaders is a comfortable position for Black, whose marriage was arranged when she was 16 and he 26.
"We didn't get a honeymoon of our own," she said. "He was too busy worrying about looking for his second wife."
FLDS men are taught that they must have at least three wives "before he can relax and knows he can get into the celestial kingdom," she said.
Martin Black didn't get the two other wives, partially because of Pam's jealousy and partially because of her antics.
Church leaders arrange marriages for sect members. Martin would not be given another bride until he could make himself worthy, by making his first wife submissive and his children obey, she said.
The family didn't make it easy. The children often refused to mind their father and attend church priesthood meetings. Now, only one of the 14 children remain in the church.
Pam's behavior — in church leaders' eyes — was worse.
She held Tupperware parties, where she learned about banking accounts and the monetary system, both taboos for women. She also read books, and even attended self-improvement classes.
Such blatant disrespect for Martin Black, a town police officer, led members of the church hierarchy to belittle him in public. "They called him a wimp."
Pam Black often was called before the church president, the late Rulon Jeffs.
"I would have to go and sit there and have this prophet tell me that I have to submit," she said. "He wasn't mean, he didn't yell at me. He actually put the blame on Martin."
"They didn't know how hard it was to live with me because I wasn't going to let anyone walk on me," she said.
Her outlook was broadened 10 years ago after meeting outsiders — self-described "recovering Mormons" — who were attending a barter party, miniswap meets that replaced the Tupperware parties.
"They loved me unconditionally, they just accepted me for who I was," she said. And they opened up her life.
Soon, she was reading self-help books. "We would get together and meet at the library, and have discussions on the deeper meaning of life," she said.
The reaction at home wasn't as gratifying.
She said she was beaten, and her husband would even disable her car so she couldn't leave town. Another time, Black and her sister were verbally attacked after attending a self-realization seminar in Los Angeles.
"I was accused of being a lesbian, to committing adultery to being a whore," she said. "Anything they can do to tear you apart, they will do it."
Finally, in the spring of 1998, Martin and the church had enough. Two church leaders drove the couple to Nevada for a quickie divorce.
"What do I do now?" Black recalled asking herself the night before her court date while sitting in a dingy motel room, far away from Martin and the FLDS chaperones.
She decided to see if her husband Martin agreed to meet her in the courtyard, away from church leaders. He did, and they talked while they walked along a river bank, watching ducks play on the water. "I guess we made up, we wound up back in my room," she said. "It's like we were kids again."
The divorce was called off, but Pam said she had to play along to church leaders that she would submit to Martin's wishes. She was warned she would be watched.
The ruse lasted until July, when she admits she reached her breaking point. She started a fight with her husband, and he called his church bishop. Then Pam's church-appointed counselor got involved, but he only talked to her husband.
"I've had it with these men," she said before calling her counselor and telling him off for siding with her husband.
"That was it, they told me to leave, and I was ready to go," she said. "Then comes up Martin, and he says, 'I'm going with you.' "
Too late, she thought.
"We loved each other, but my husband still wanted to control who I was," she said. "I chose to get a divorce. It was best."
Now free to live her life as she pleases, Black is writing a book. She wants to call it "Women Behind the Veil in America," but others have suggested "Living in the Shadow of Polygamy," figuring the word "polygamy" in the title would attract more attention.
"I've made so much progress in my life," she said. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm just excited about it all."