Monday, Apr. 22, 1985
Abrupt Exit
The Rev. Terry Cole-Whittaker, 45, a joyful extoller of fulfillment and guilt- free pleasure, appeared to be the most striking example of her own teaching. Worshipers packed meetings of her independent congregation in San Diego, and her syndicated TV show was aired in 15 markets. She got an annual salary of $180,000, plus perks that one insider puts at $40,000 a month. Gavin MacLeod (Love Boat), one of her many celebrity parishioners (others: Linda Gray, Lily Tomlin, Eydie Gorme), threw a big bash so she could meet nearly everyone who had ever graced his ABC show. Have it all, said Cole-Whittaker. If you're in an unhappy marriage, chuck it--as she herself has done four times. One of her key postulates: "Prosperity is your divine right."
Last month the blond evangelist, a former Mrs. California and a preacher for ten years, suddenly decided to lay off her 50 staffers and forsake her seemingly successful Terry Cole-Whittaker Ministries. The slim and folksy- friendly Rev. Terry bade a final goodbye last week at a hall in San Diego's Performing Arts Center. Below the balloon-festooned stage, a jazz combo and a Tibetan bell player generated mood music, and the Easter congregation of more than 4,000 joined in on Reach Out and Touch. As a 100-voice choir sang "Christ has risen," Cole-Whittaker materialized to applause and whistles. Tears streamed down her face, and two men held her by the waist to prevent enthusiasts from dragging her off the stage. "I no longer want to be a religious leader. I want to be myself," she declared. It was time, she added, to explore personal "un-limitation," which might include sitting on a rock in Hawaii to contemplate the universe.
The Cole-Whittaker organization has been beset by financial woes: outgo has been exceeding the $6 million annual income of her organization, and one intimate says the debt is at least $700,000. What next? The San Diego congregation, which rents its meeting halls, will try to keep going minus its star. Eventually Cole-Whittaker may return to the public arena to run secularized self-help workshops. She may even reappear on the TV screen, billed this time, explains her secretary, as "a non-religious person."