A Wingnut Does the EPF

[Commander Birdsong]

PART 1:

So far, I have not found a story here on ESMB that takes place in New York, probably because there are a lot more Sea Org staff at the PAC base, Flag Land Base, and Gold Base. I feel my story can contribute to the overall picture of what the EPF is like no matter where it was done.

This story is about my experience on the EPF (Estates Project Force). As any Ex-scientologist, ex-SO member can probably agree, it is where you first SEE and experience a lot of what is wrong with Scientology. But somehow you get indoctrinated with the idea that it is okay to suffer, to go without, all because you have a noble purpose of doing something great - clearing the planet.

From what I remember, the purpose of doing the EPF was to enable the new Sea Org member in-training to “confront MEST”. The idea is that if you can confront MEST (matter, energy, space, time) you can do anything. The end result is that you can make anything go right, just like an OT. Some days it was hard, and I was told “many are called and few are chosen”.

I was determined to be one of the chosen. It is my inherent nature, that when I participate in something I feel is worthwhile, I go balls-to-the-walls all the way, 100%.

I was going to be an executive in Scientology, a member of the CMO (Commodore’s Messenger Org), the elite of the Sea Org.

I was young, passionate, and optimistic. Of course I wanted world peace, wanted to help create it, and wanted to live in such a world. It was spring 1985, and I was 19 years old.

I quit my job, an excellent one, as a draftsman/designer at a civil engineering/land surveying firm. I quit college. I no longer needed to learn how to build bridges - I was going to be part of bringing the bridge of all bridges to the world, the ultimate infrastructure - The Bridge to Total Freedom.

I gave away most of my stuff, including my car. I kept my bicycle, some clothes, books, a fish tank and collection of tropical fish. I moved all my remaining belongings into a room on the 7th floor of 349 W. 48th St. New York City, which was the floor where all the CMO staff lived. It was the nicest floor with carpeting and freshly painted walls. The whole building at that time was berthing for CLO and CMO. Each floor had two common bathrooms, one for men and one for women.

My first day, I was told that I had to stay in the “guest” berthing until I finished the EPF. One of the CMO staff promised they would take care of my fish. The guest berthing area was where Class IV staff members from the EUS (east U.S.) Orgs would stay when doing training at the CLO. It was a big room on the 2nd floor at the front of the building, accommodated with a few sets of metal bunk beds. I did not bring linens, blanket, or a pillow with me, and was a bit grossed out about sleeping on dirty sheets that who knows how many people slept on? I figured it was part of the test of being able to competently “confront MEST”.

(Part 2 tomorrow)

"balls to the wall"

you got it...

used the same words myself; as kesey said "go the whole hog; don't do anything by halves"

 

[uncover]

The fate of the fish does not come until the end of the story... :shark:

My guess: The fish has been grilled by the hungry Sea Orgers.....

 

[Udarnik]

Think I saw a video (leak) of that on YouTube. Where's AnonKat with that link? I guess the brainwashing is losing its effect of me, because I cannot figure out now what confronting MEST and CLEANING have to do with each other.

The SO didn't word clear sufficiently.

It's actually confronting the MESS.

 

[Gib]

The SO didn't word clear sufficiently.

It's actually confronting the MESS.

Yes, it's MESS.

But hubbard tricked and called it MEST. And behind the word MEST is the state of OT. It's a trick on words. Brainwashing it is.

 

[Udarnik]

Yes, it's MESS.

But hubbard tricked and called it MEST. And behind the word MEST is the state of OT. It's a trick on words. Brainwashing it is.

Matter, Energy, Space and Shit?

 

[ChuckNorrisCutsMyLawn]

Matter, Energy, Space and Shit?

Matter, Energy, Space and a Whole Shit Load of Drugs

 

[Udarnik]

Matter, Energy, Space and a Whole Shit Load of Drugs

Yes, but I heard he was a big bogart. I don't think he shared those with the SO.

 

[secretiveoldfag]

My guess: The fish has been grilled by the hungry Sea Orgers.....

I believe they have been accidentally flushed down the chokie to be eaten by urban alligators and dog-sized rats.

 

[aegerprimo]

PART 3:

I had done some intro courses; the Comm Course, Problems of Work course, and some auditing; Book One, Purif, Objectives co-audit, and some Grades, before joining the SO. But I was pretty much a green Scientologist when I signed my billion-year contract.

In the evenings after dinner, the EPFers would go to the course room to do basic courses and other training required to be a Sea Org member. This was my favorite time of the day. I loved to study and was a pretty good student.

I do not recall exactly what courses I did, but I am sure I did the Student Hat, HQS, Pro TRs, Method One, Staff Status 0 & I. I don’t remember the titles of the Sea Org specific training courses, but I remember studying lots and lots of Flag Orders that covered things like; cleaning windows, using unscented cleaning and personal hygiene products, white glove checks, the Sea Org, and lots of stuff about ships (even though we were Sea Org in buildings).

The projects I did on the EPF were painting, repairing broken windows, more painting, building a new roof for the elevator shaft, lots and lots of painting and endless cleaning. We spent most of the time scraping years of peeling paint and rust from the back stairwell of the berthing building. I liked to sing while working, and had (have) a decent singing voice. The stairwell had great acoustics and we all enjoyed it.

There were some good times, but then there were the rats, roaches, and the squalor. The building overall was very rundown. There were two stairwells, but only one was used because the other needed repair and was too dangerous. The elevator did not work, and it was a 7-story building. The lights did not work in half the building especially the first two floors. Many of the window panes were broken, so bad weather got inside the building. The boilers did not work most of the time so there would be no heat or no hot water, or both. The list goes on.

Once a week, Saturday or Sunday morning, all Sea Org members have time to clean their living quarters and do their laundry. I would hand-wash my clothes throughout the week in the sink or the shower, and put them to dry during dinner in the Purification sauna. “Quasimodo” would watch them for me and make sure they would not get taken, moved, or be in the way of someone doing the Purif.

During those allotted morning hours of “freedom” I would make like I was going to do my laundry, but instead would take the subway to visit my father in the hospital who was dying of cancer. Sometimes my sister would meet me there, and we would visit him together. I taught her how to do a touch assist and unconscious person assist. I brought my father a Dianetics book to read, but most of the time he was too doped up from morphine to be aware of anything around him. He died late that summer. I got permission from my Sea Org seniors to get his ashes from the hospital, and bring them to New Jersey to sprinkle at a favorite fishing spot of ours near the Delaware River. Nobody asked me if I was okay or how I felt about my father being dead. I didn’t cry because I wasn’t a mamby-pamby panty-waisted dilettante. I was going to help clear the planet!

(Now I feel the sting of tears, so the last part later...)

 

[La La Lou Lou]

PART 3:

I had done some intro courses; the Comm Course, Problems of Work course, and some auditing; Book One, Purif, Objectives co-audit, and some Grades, before joining the SO. But I was pretty much a green Scientologist when I signed my billion-year contract.

In the evenings after dinner, the EPFers would go to the course room to do basic courses and other training required to be a Sea Org member. This was my favorite time of the day. I loved to study and was a pretty good student.

I do not recall exactly what courses I did, but I am sure I did the Student Hat, HQS, Pro TRs, Method One, Staff Status 0 & I. I don’t remember the titles of the Sea Org specific training courses, but I remember studying lots and lots of Flag Orders that covered things like; cleaning windows, using unscented cleaning and personal hygiene products, white glove checks, the Sea Org, and lots of stuff about ships (even though we were Sea Org in buildings).

The projects I did on the EPF were painting, repairing broken windows, more painting, building a new roof for the elevator shaft, lots and lots of painting and endless cleaning. We spent most of the time scraping years of peeling paint and rust from the back stairwell of the berthing building. I liked to sing while working, and had (have) a decent singing voice. The stairwell had great acoustics and we all enjoyed it.

There were some good times, but then there were the rats, roaches, and the squalor. The building overall was very rundown. There were two stairwells, but only one was used because the other needed repair and was too dangerous. The elevator did not work, and it was a 7-story building. The lights did not work in half the building especially the first two floors. Many of the window panes were broken, so bad weather got inside the building. The boilers did not work most of the time so there would be no heat or no hot water, or both. The list goes on.

Once a week, Saturday or Sunday morning, all Sea Org members have time to clean their living quarters and do their laundry. I would hand-wash my clothes throughout the week in the sink or the shower, and put them to dry during dinner in the Purification sauna. “Quasimodo” would watch them for me and make sure they would not get taken, moved, or be in the way of someone doing the Purif.

During those allotted morning hours of “freedom” I would make like I was going to do my laundry, but instead would take the subway to visit my father in the hospital who was dying of cancer. Sometimes my sister would meet me there, and we would visit him together. I taught her how to do a touch assist and unconscious person assist. I brought my father a Dianetics book to read, but most of the time he was too doped up from morphine to be aware of anything around him. He died late that summer. I got permission from my Sea Org seniors to get his ashes from the hospital, and bring them to New Jersey to sprinkle at a favorite fishing spot of ours near the Delaware River. Nobody asked me if I was okay or how I felt about my father being dead. I didn’t cry because I wasn’t a mamby-pamby panty-wasted dilettante. I was going to help clear the planet!

(Now I feel the sting of tears, so the last part later...)

Well done on finally coming round to having case on post(excuse the pun). Suppressed grief doesn't go away and it really is better out than in.

 

[aegerprimo]

The SO didn't word clear sufficiently.

It's actually confronting the MESS.

OMG! So funny, I had to get up and walk around, almost pee'd my pants.

 

[Free Being Me]

(Now I feel the sting of tears, so the last part later...)

Well done on finally coming round to having case on post(excuse the pun). Suppressed grief doesn't go away and it really is better out than in.

 

[Free Being Me]

The fate of the fish does not come until the end of the story... :shark:

That answers the question of do fish swim (lol), and glad you decided you had other fish to fry leaving the cult, happy you're out and thank you for sharing your story.

 

[clamicide]

It's a strange state I'm well familiar with.

Melatonin might help with the sleep pattern.

unfortunately... that stuff gave me the worst nightmares... I got sleep, but woke up feeling like I'd been put through the wringer to the point where it was like I hadn't slept.

 

[La La Lou Lou]

unfortunately... that stuff gave me the worst nightmares... I got sleep, but woke up feeling like I'd been put through the wringer to the point where it was like I hadn't slept.

Not a good idea then. I was trying to stop smoking and was taking champix and anti-depressants at the same time. I had the most wonderfully vivid dreams I've ever dreamed but the dreams were about boring activities including work in the SO, washing plates etc. It wasn't fun and yet it was, I'm sure it helped me sort my head out. I did stop smoking and eventually dropped the antidepressants too.

 

[Scio Watcher]

I am really interested in the tale so far I'm sure that will not change. Later on if you might tell how long were the days, how early you started (time)along with other parts. I wonder how many times a day you would do those Chinese-drills (memorization) along with what they had you memorize.
I talked with an ex who said that most of the SO in Clearwater had not even reached the state of Clear even after over a decade.
I think it would be interesting if say a former PAC along with maybe a FLAG SO would relay their former lives. I wonder if any who were in for a while if the protestors ever made any difference. Also if a former lived at Int, Flag or PAC what were the differences from their point of view.
Just some thoughts, thank you for sharing and I hope everything is going well for you now.

 

[aegerprimo]

PART 4:

Not only were the living conditions terrible, the food sucked as well. Breakfast every morning was oatmeal. Sometimes there would be butter, milk or sugar to put in it. For lunch and dinner, the EPFers ate after the rest of the SO staff, and we would get whatever was left over. Most of the time the cook (who was the wife of the EPF I/C) looked out for us and set aside some extra servings. I had a little bit of my own money and would often buy bags of oranges to share with the other EPFers.

The pay was a real shocker. I was told that SO pay was meager, but I was not expecting less chump change than an indigent person could beg for on the street. My first pay was less than $10 which wasn’t even enough to support my 1-pack/day smoking habit for a week.

It took about 3 months to complete the EPF.

I was well on my way to thinking like a Scientologist (brainwashed). Then I had to do the CMO EPF which consisted of more manual labor and more enhancement (studying and auditing). I was the only one from my first EPF group who was going into the CMO, so the manual labor tasks and projects at this point, I did alone.

At least I was able to move into my CMO quarters on the 7th floor which allowed me to take a shower every day. Unfortunately the hot water heater boiler in the building, most of the time was broken down, so freezing cold showers became a fact of life, just like the roaches scattering everywhere when you turned the lights on. My bicycle was relocated out of my room (stolen), half my books were gone. My beautiful tropical fish were dead and half eaten (probably by rats). I was mad, but in the SO you learn to put the 3rd dynamic (survival of the group) first before yourself. A Sea Org member did not own any personal property, it all belonged to the group. I never located my bike or books.

At the crack of dawn I got up to clean all the CLO and CMO offices before all the staff came in and started work for the day. These were located in the top floor of the New York Org building. The big project I got to complete after the office cleaning was in the CMO offices. I scraped the paint off all the wood trim of door jambs and window sills, and refinished the wood with stain. It looked great.

Study time was the same, daily after dinner. The courses consisted of policy about “ethics presence” and “command intention” – in other words, how to be a bossy messenger for the Commodore and/or INT Management. I was going to be posted as the head of HCO (Hubbard Communications Office). During my CMO EPF, I completed the HCO Full-Hat and the very long Jo’Burg sec-check.

Upon graduation of the CMO EPF I was given a very worn and shabby Sea Org uniform, black slacks, white shirt with lapels, a jacket that was a few sizes too big, a white navy officer hat, and a nifty yellow and blue braided lanyard - and so started life as a fully indoctrinated Commodore’s Messenger (a full-fledged Scientology Wingnut) – the elite of the elite, many are called and few are chosen.

Please check out my story about my time later in the SO, aboard the Freewinds – The Foul Air of the Freewinds an Ex-SO Member’s Story

(Informative reading as part of this story – The Scientological Onion…)

 

[aegerprimo]

Re: The Fate of the Fish

I have a bad feeling for the fish. Pets and the SO don't mix.

Yup!

The fish! What happened to the fish?

I can't stand the suspense.

<snip>My beautiful tropical fish were dead and half eaten (probably by rats). I was mad, but in the SO you learn to put the 3rd dynamic (survival of the group) first before yourself. A Sea Org member did not own any personal property, it all belonged to the group. <snip>

Sad and true... that was the fate of the fish.

 

[Free Being Me]

Re: The Fate of the Fish

Sad and true... that was the fate of the fish.

R.I.P. Fish

 

[Mest Lover]

I did the EPF at CLO EUS from August 1988 - about late September or October 1988. That was seriously ***.