The names I kept hearing my stepdad mentioned at Plymouth Org before I was there were Debbie Layton (or Graham, I believe she got married) and Rob Petrie, who left to teach in Ottery St Mary. He spoke highly of both.
That week's pay was less than 3 pounds sterling.
I was introduced to Assists (the weird massage that's supposed to heal anything). One of the first Assists I got was from a repuslive man called dudley who actually touched me all over, literally. I was so unconfortable with a man touching me in a place nobody had ever run their hands and my chest too. I told the course supervisor afterwards but it was not "handled" and he got away with it. I later found out that Assist was not a normal one but the harm was done.
The Basic Course Supervisor was a pervert who loved to flirt with me (and my mum, and the 10-18 year old students, basically all the pretty young women, not his wife). He would not speak to a lady, he would speak to her chest.
The 2 bosses (ED + Senior C/S) always went home at dinner time for much longer than the allocated 45 minutes. Sometimes they didn't even bother coming back after dinner at all!
Nobody said a word because they were too scared. Yet it was up to me to get everybody in on time and do roll-call. I could not enforce the rules the ED and his wife wouldn't abide by.
As I was never paid for all my hard work I was evicted from the shelter I lived in for not paying my rent and went to a council house with a bunch of other staff members. Life got more and more harsh. I could not afford luxuries like fruit or cereal. My meals were tiny items I could buy in the nearby Spar shop.
Eventually I was treated like scum by the senior members of staff, because of my poor stats and my unhappiness I was relieved of my usual duties. I was working for the Ethics department just cleaning and building. Yes, building. I was taught to mix cement, demolish bad walls, and build saunas. I stopped having the strength to wake up in the mornings and was literally dragged in most days if they couldn't wake me with phonecalls. When I arrived late (everyday) the senior c/s and D/ED rolled their eyes, muttered horrible things and then refused to address me directly because I was poisonous.
One day my senior was sent to collect me from home as usual but I refused to open the door. She would not give up and came back with reinforcements. I did not give in. She sent me threats of declaring me a Suppressive Person but I said yes please. This went on and on until they stopped patrolling my front door. My boyfriend stayed by my side and also refused to go into the org.
That was practically the end of my ordeal. I had to go back a few times to keep the peace so they would not disconnect me from the rest of my family. They gave me "word clearing" because they believed misunderstood words were the reason I became unhappy. Misunderstood words! Just random words in the little coursework I had done.
Thank goodness my whole family is out of there now. As soon as my boyfriend and I disconnected ourselves from Scn our relationship was back on track.
If you're wondering, the Purif did not work. I had to pretend it did, just so I could end the sauna + vitamin torture. During the e-meter test I got a floating needle by thinking of happy things like getting away.
She's the ED (Executive Director)! LOL
Is that Vicky Bourne? Can't say I was impressed either.
Shalashar, welcome to ESMB!
BTW, do you remember anyone from your time who was at the org in the mid-80's, when I was there? I'm curious to know what became of some of the people I knew at Plymouth Org from that time.
The Vicky I knew was something like 6ft tall, as thin as a rake and in her early-mid 30's, was married to the basic course supe, Greg who himself admitted to being a former junkie. Can't for the life of me remember her last name though.
Only people I knew who might have been around at that time was an elderly chap called Ron and his wife (who again I can't for the life of me remember her name, lovely lady though) who were both old time scn's who used to run a mission waaay back.
Damn, I thought I'd forgotten this stuff... I did try very hard to at least...
If it brings back bad memories don't worry, it's just that whatever the merits / shortcomings / crimes of the Church, I met some fine people there.
Mark Jeffery, the ED
Should also add that whilst it does bring up some somewhat painful memories, I do consider that I got off lightly.
That said, and I'll be blunt on this: What I have learned since has galvanised me to acting to help bring about the complete shutdown of the cult via protest.
Too many people have been hurt and died as a result of it for it to be any other way.