Killing Vincent

But not before cake.

Yesterday was a sunny, not-too-hot Saturday.
A day when most people run errands, go to yoga, or meet a friend for coffee.

Not me.
I spent the day planning a 94th birthday party for a dead cult leader.

Vincent Leaphart, aka “John Africa”, was born on July 26, 1931. He’s known for one thing: founding MOVE.

Vincent is dead—believed to be one of the 11 people who lost their lives inside 6221 Osage Avenue in West Philadelphia on May 13, 1985. The day most refer to as “The MOVE Bombing.”

I wasn’t actually throwing him a party. That would be unhinged. But hey—possibly viral. Filing under: ideas for 2026
I just spent way too many hours fucking around with ChatGPT and Canva, designing fake birthday cakes and balloon-scape tributes to the man who created the deadliest cult in Philadelphia.

The same cult I didn’t even know existed—until my friend Bob casually suggested that, if I was going to make a podcast, I should do it about “The MOVE People.” You know, the “group” he said, were bombed by the City of Philadelphia for no reason.

If you’re reading this Substack, chances are you’ve already listened to my 45-episode podcast about MOVE or read about it. If not, you’re probably not going to understand what I’m about to confess.

I am going to kill Vincent Leaphart.

An already dead cult leader I never met, who never did anything to me personally.

But he did horrific, unspeakable things to people I know—children who were forcibly raised in MOVE and somehow survived. And to others I’ve only come to know because I went so deep into my research. The kind of depth where there is no light, and the walls echo nothing but suffering and fear.

Vincent was their monster—in life, and in the doctrine that controlled their minds and bodies. The monster they want to forget.

But MOVE —and the apologists, grifters, and sycophants still shilling for them—won’t let them. Because they keep lying about who Vincent really was and what MOVE has always been: a destructive, abusive, and deadly high-demand, high-control group—aka, a cult.

I resurrected their monster—because the only way to kill the myth is to study the man they still praise with the chant “Long Live John Africa.” And they want your kids to chant it too. (more on that in a forthcoming post & podcast episode)

Once I brought the miscreant back to life, I needed to house him somewhere. So I built a rent-controlled unit in the back of my brain. A cozy little crash pad for a sociopath. I stop by often. And now I don’t want to kick him out—because I still have questions. And let’s be real: if he moves out, someone worse might move in.

Like Jeffrey Epstein.
Or Ghislaine Maxwell.
Or Jim Jones.
Or R. Kelly.
Or Keith Raniere.
Or that taxi-driver cult leader from Kenya.

So many psychopaths to choose from.
And they make up most of Netflix’s Top 10.
I’ve got casting options.
But for now, Vincent is my #1 bad guy.

I’ve often wondered if other documentarians or writers who take on real-life monsters feel this too—if they recognize when immersive investigation starts to slip into slow possession, then slides into full-blown obsession. Filing under: topics for a future interview or post.

Because my friends, my husband, and some of my professional peers look at me with a tilted head and ask—genuine worry in their voices:

“Are you still working on that project?”
“Are you doing anything else besides MOVE?”

Yes, I am.
But Vincent? He’s a long-term mental real estate investment.

Up until now, I’ve been afraid to admit just how emotionally invested I am in Vincent Leaphart and MOVE—worried that saying it out loud might trigger a well-meaning intervention and a long stretch of talk therapy.

I appreciate their concern. But nobody sent me on this mission—I took it on. And I’m not looking to bail out.

I dug up Vincent Leaphart, which means I’m the one who has to kill him—with facts—so the myth of “John Africa” can finally be buried.

But tonight, let him eat cake.

So that my whole Saturday screwing around on Canva was not a complete waste - here is how I imagined the fake birthday party for MOVE’s fake prophet:

I planned on having a bounce house just for Vincent because he is super selfish.

Vincent rocking the harmonies wearing the latest cult leader streetwear line of life vests. Very Fresh!

But parody aside—Vincent Leaphart was a very bad man who created a deadly cult.

Don’t forget that.

I may joke around, but it’s only to draw attention—so you’ll look closer, listen to the survivors, and learn the true story of MOVE.

So there will be no more victims.