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William Branham tells many stories of his childhood in the little log cabin near Burkesville, KY. Songs are sung in honor of those childhood days, and even a painting of the log cabin is on the walls of some members of the cult.


In these stories, Branham hunted and fished, trapped, and sold the skins to feed the small family in the log cabin.











These stories, however, are fabricated. Branham’s father, Charles, was on the run for a crime that he is believed to have committed, and the Branham family moved to New Albany, Indiana in 1911 – three years from his actual birthdate and two years from the birth year that he would use throughout his ministry. This year, 1911, is confirmed by the United States Census.


Let’s examine what Branham said:


May 29, 1958, JESUS AT THE DOOR, NEW HAVEN, CT When I was a little boy down in Kentucky where I was born, we had a little old cabin…and a stump for a table, and a little old rail put around the side, and a bunch of shucks laying there where papa and mama slept, an old shuck mattress and shuck pillow. Summertime they tok straw when we could get it, make the straw beds.And we little kids slept upstairs…Mama used to put a piece of canvas over us to keep us from getting wet when it would rain…she would call us, she'd say, "Billy...?... come on down.Bring Edgar with you so he won't fall coming down the steps."


Jul. 22, 1951Aft., LIFE.STORY, TOLEDO, OH And the little cabin I was borned in had two rooms in it. I taken a picture of it recently to put in my book back there, little log cabin. My father left Kentucky in his early days, at about twenty years old, I suppose; I was about three years old. And he moved to Indiana. We lived up on the Utica pike, just above Jeffersonville, going northeast of Jeffersonville.


Jul. 17, 1963, PRISONER, JEFFERSONVILLE, IN I said I was born up here in Kentucky, where it's very primitive, especially back when I was a kid. And this certain little boy never had a home like we have here, where we had so many pretty ladies that have to look through mirrors, all through the house…he had one little mirror, just a little piece tacked on a tree on the outside, where the wash bench was, where his mother and father washed, and they combed their hair, and so forth, from this little piece of an old mirror tacked on a tree. Frankly, that's the type of home that we have. Anybody want to see a mirror, we kids, we had to get a box and get up on the wash bench, and look in this piece of mirror that I picked up, myself, in a dump. That wasn't down in Kentucky. That's here in Indiana, up on Utica Pike here. 58 Now, this little kid had never exactly seen himself like that. So, he come to the city, to visit his grandma.

Copyright 2013,                                                                                 John Collins Page 23