Help Tiffany



Rev. Tiffany Diane Moon

January 1971 – January 2015

We regret the closing of this organization due to the death of founder, Reverend Tiffany Diane Moon.

Rev. Moon died of an autoimmune disease, caused by prolonged, profound stress and repeated physical injuries from crimes committed against her between 2009 and 2014 in
San Diego County, CA, and by multiple, related illegal actions of county officials, denials of government disability aid and crime-victim services, and repeated medial malpractice.  These crimes began with domestic violence and stalking by a wealthy client whose wife and daughters disclosed his abuse of them to her in 2009, and ended with HUD fraud and stalking by a property owner and local attorney who misused an emergency government housing grant intended to save her life in 2014.  Details of the events leading to Rev. Moon’s death:



This is the history of my kidnapping and abuse, and my hardship now.  I ask for your help with the crisis I am facing today.  If you find yourself in need of help after reading, please contact one of the hotlines listed on our Support page.  


I was kidnapped from the San Diego School of the Madeleine in 1980, after years of violent domestic abuse, deception about my identity, a custody dispute, 10-day captivity, interstate relocation, and entrance into kinship care.  When unable to prevent my kidnapper from removing me from school grounds, the school administration and the Catholic Diocese of San Diego chose not to report the crime.


I was adopted by a violent parent, the stepfather who would later kidnap me when I was removed from his custody.   My mother was 18 when her relationship with him began, after my natural father had refused custody, and later refused to pay child support.  I didn’t know about the adoption, but I did learn the word, “bastard” in conjunction with violence when I was a child.  For the first nine years of my life, I was severely abused and neglected in several, drug-using homes between California and Oregon, where captivity and sexual deviance were common.  I watched my mother raped and beaten, while I was also sexually abused, my nose broken, given drugs and alcohol, threatened with guns, photographed, trafficked to men who came to our home, raped by a neighbor and a border, and forced to watch my animals being tortured.


In the summer of 1980, after a violent beating that nearly crushed my skull, my mother escaped our Oregon home, leaving me and my two-year-old half-brother behind.  During the 10 days of her absence, I was held in the house, starved, kept awake, and raped in my room at night.  On the night my mother returned, my stepfather attempted to kill her.  That August, I was relocated to San Diego, California and placed alone in kinship care, under the guardianship of my grandmother, an employee of the Catholic Diocese of San Diego.  I was still starved, unable to eat, and was diagnosed with pneumonia when I arrived.  In my grandmother’s home, where I was left to care for my grandfather, a cigarette addict dying of lung cancer, I lived another nine years of severe neglect, emotional, physical, and mental abuse by my grandmother, visiting aunt, visiting alcoholic mother, and her many boyfriends.


In September of 1980, my grandmother placed me in the School of the Madeleine, a Catholic elementary school, where I was bullied by students and abused by teachers.  School officials had been informed of my custody, and that my stepfather did not have permission to see me.  During my first month of school, on picture day, I was physically abused and threatened by my 4th-grade teacher, who took me alone into a hallway, pinned me into a corner with her arm to my chest, and told me what she would do if I ever lied to her. Shortly after this, in October, my stepfather, who had driven from Oregon to San Diego, entered the school campus through open gates, without notice.  He first went to the school office and asked permission to take me out of school.  When denied permission, he ran throughout the school, from room to room, yelling my name, with the school principal, a small nun, running behind him.  He forcibly removed me from a classroom, pushing the principal, who had stood in the doorway to block him, out of the way, knocking her into a bench and onto the ground, and dragged me, screaming my fear of falling, down the steep hill away from the school.  He first drove me to an unpopulated restaurant, then gave me to a taxi driver.  I was taken to Tecolote Canyon, a secluded reserve park near the elementary school, and then driven back to school in a taxi hours later.  When I arrived at the school, there were no police; school administration had chosen not to call them.  I walked back through open school gates and returned to the classroom of the teacher who had threatened me about lying. She had been talking to the class.  Her words to them as I entered the room were, "It happens every day."  She took me to the school office, and I was sent home with my grandmother, who had been called away from her job at the Diocese.


Nothing was done, however.  No police report was taken, paramedics were not called, and Child Welfare Services was never contacted.  I displayed obvious symptoms of abuse on the day of my kidnapping and for my remaining years at the school.  I had regular infections, and told both students and teachers. I described pain to my gym teacher to be excused from class, resulting in bullying by students.  I described feelings of depression to my choir teacher, who then frequently offered to drive me and other girls home alone after private lessons.  I also disclosed information to the parish Monsignor in confession two years later, when I was compulsively mutilating myself.  He gave me penance for my sin, but did not report to authorities.  For my remaining four years at the school, when I was often unkempt, in a dirty uniform, hiding in closets during class, jumping every time a chair moved, sitting alone during lunch hours, dissociated and comatose, and finally leaving visible suicide notes, seen by students, in classrooms, no action was taken.  In fact, the school gates remained open every day, despite the kidnapping, and the teacher who had threatened me about lying said to another teacher in reference to my behavior, “I think she just wants attention.”  The crime was ignored, I was ignored, and I was shamed into silence.


The years of these events were normalized by the abusive adults around me while I was living them, and I adapted into the shell of a person I had to be to survive.  Throughout my adult life, I have needed a quiet, stable home and lifestyle to care for the disabilities caused by child abuse.  But in 2009, my life was destroyed by domestic violence:  I was abused and injured by a man who invited me into his home during a financial crisis.  The result was financial destruction and home loss, and despite evidence, San Diego Police supported my perpetrator.  I never recovered, financially, physically, or emotionally, and all of the home security I needed to cope with my past was stripped away.  By 2011, I began to face my past, and to seek justice, compensation, and the disability aid I now needed to survive.  But today, despite the fact that my stepfather has confessed to abuse and aggravated kidnapping, a felony with no statute of limitations, San Diego Police, Sheriffs, and FBI refuse to act, CA Victim Compensation rejects my claims, Social Security and other social services deny the disability aid I qualify for, and the Catholic Diocese of San Diego refuses to accept responsibility for the damage it caused, making disability treatment impossible without compensation.  I am now being stalked and threatened by my childhood abuser, and my domestic abuser has taken a series of actions to harm me, prevent me from earning income, destroy my credit, and prevent me from maintaining housing.  My recourse for these events is being denied, I am disabled without financial aid, and I have faced a landslide of new crimes and civil-rights violations that have left me crippled:









In San Diego, CA, my attempts at seeking legal justice for these events has resulted in stalking by my perpetrator; a written death threat; daily telephone harassment; the questionable suicide of my mother; criminal misconduct by San Diego Police; abuse and denial of service by the San Diego Sheriff’s Department, San Diego FBI, San Diego District Attorney’s office, and San Diego Family Justice Center; callous abuse by several attorneys; denial of restitution by the CA Victim Compensation Program; a crippling increase in my PTSD symptoms; illegal denials of benefits by Social Security, the CA CalFresh program, Medicaid, San Diego Health and Human Services, and all other San Diego County social services; denial of disability payments by my insurance carrier, Northwestern Mutual; the loss of my small business; the loss of my suburban home; and the depletion of my resources; finally resulting in seven months of homelessness; denial of service by Home Start, Inc., Community Resource Center, Center for Community Solutions, Women’s Resource Center, Interfaith Community Services, Jewish Family Service, and countless other local and national private support organizations; illegal denial of emergency housing by all six San Diego County domestic-violence shelters and multiple other programs; abuse by YWCA program management; abuse, threats and blackmail by a hotel-shelter owner contracted with Interfaith Community Services; abuse by Rancho Coastal Humane Society domestic-violence animal-shelter program management; damaging separation from my physical and psychiatric service animals, both of whom died; fraud and tenancy termination by two, consecutive property owners who received contracted FEMA and HUD funds to house me; additional stalking and threats of violence by a man related to the property owner who misused my HUD funds; over three years of chronic stress; and repeated, physical injury.


My attempts at seeking help for my severe, trauma-related disabilities have resulted in misdiagnosis and permanently damaging medical malpractice by San Diego County MHS; criminal medical malpractice by six San Diego County hospitals; abuse and malpractice by Jewish Family Service Patient Advocacy; a sexual assault by a doctor employed by San Diego County Neighborhood Healthcare; and illegal denial of all other San Diego County health-care services.  The additional trauma has resulted in increased disabilities, permanent injury, and autoimmune disease, including severe Chronic Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), advanced Systemic Lupus Erythematosus (SLE), Fibromyalgia, adrenal hyperfunction, adrenal exhaustion, thyroid disease, chronic pain, complications to childhood rickets deformities and Maledung’s deformities, chronic trapezius strain, spinal nerve damage, and dental nerve damage.  Ultimately, my attempts at seeking support for the results of the crime that had been ignored in the past were not only ignored in the present, but have resulted in more crimes, abuse, trauma, and loss, worsening my disabilities and financial state with harmful and criminal responses by San Diego County offices and county-funded programs.  Today, I won’t survive without help.


Today, I am trying to stay alive, and seeking treatment and restitution.  After learning that the way I have been treated is very common, I am also building several peer support services, already filled with amazing abduction and kidnapping survivors who have faced similar hardships.  And I am sharing my story, because what my teacher said that day is true:  Abduction does happen every day.  The problem is that abduction incidents sound so outlandish to those who do not understand or are simply afraid to hear them, that survivors are left feeling alone, betrayed, and frustrated, with a profound and unique trauma.  Many of us do not survive, not because we did not live through the crime, but because we were denied help after it, and instead faced abuse, mistreatment, and insurmountable hardship.  I hope that, by sharing my story and providing services for others who have experienced the same struggle, I can also promote public awareness about a painful but common crime, and provide the support that I didn’t receive. Will you please help me with some of the actions you see on the right, and by making a donation today?  I promise to pay it forward.


Please Donate

Please help to save my life today, so that I can help others.  Donations pay for my emergency medical and living expenses.  I pay your help forward with support services for all survivors of kidnapping and abduction.  Please donate today.




© 2012 Tiffany Diane Moon.  All rights reserved.


Logo design by Floriana Giannuzzi Savelli


This organization is in creation, and its 501c3 status is pending donations needed for the filing fee.  An EIN has been established, and donations are deposited to a bank account in the organization’s name and directed toward basic living expenses.