In the Life of an ordinary woman.... the beginning


Patron with Honors
I have decided it is time to write up my story. I am still connected to Scientologists and I have had a load of fear in writing this and letting it be known, but it is time I did. My own safety isn't what is important. My family is what is important and those of my family who are still "in" or missing in action are what is important. Scientology is a scam - the Sea org is a scam. It needs to be brought out in the open what is does to people and what it does to families. It has all but destroyed mine. I want them back, but if they won't listen then so be it. I will tell what it has done. I will make it known for what it is. I am sick and tired of being afraid.
So here goes - part one - I have left out names in case it offends......

This story all starts in far away Australia, A land of great beauty and wonderful people. It is the story of a very ordinary, very usual, nothing special woman.

This woman was born in a small coastal town in the state of Victoria in the 50s. There was nothing special about this town and nothing special about this woman’s birth. She was just an ordinary woman in an ordinary world. Little did this woman know that as time went by she would become anything but ordinary!

This is the story of that very ordinary, very usual, nothing special woman:
I was the third child in a family of four children. I was the second child to be born in the land of opportunity; my older sister was the first, my older brother having been born in bonny Scotland. My parents had come from Scotland a few years prior on a Government assisted immigration program. My father was an Engineer and worked for a large refinery company. My mother was a stay at home mum.

We were Normal every day regular folk. We were a family going about their business of surviving and growing. I do not remember much about those early days. Snippets of memory come and go - going to Church all dressed in Sunday best, with lace gloves and a hat, pretty dresses and shiny black shoes. Making puppets at Church, going to school and doing what most kids do, growing and learning and having fun.

Our family had moved into a government owned home with pretty honeysuckle along the fence. I remember picking the honeysuckle and sucking out the sweet nectar inside the tiny flowers. I remember that taste so vividly. This was one vivid memory out of so many blurred ones.
Then one day at the age of seven my whole world turned upside down. I will never forget that day as long as I live.
It was a sunny November day, the 24th to be exact. There was Just one more month until Christmas! Of course, you have to realize that in Australia, November was summer and the days were warm and the skies blue.

I had been delegated the task of taking the mail to the post office. In those days going to the post office at the age of seven was very safe and many times my siblings and I would go by our selves. There was no need for an escort and I was happy and free. I had placed the mail in my underwear so that the letters would be safe and I would not lose them. I know it sounds strange, but I was seven and I thought that this was the only way to ensure that the mail made it to the post office and that seemed the safest place to me. Besides my underwear had tight elastic bands at the top and the legs and there was no way those letters would fall out.

There I was seven years old, skipping and running to the post office. It was a beautiful Friday afternoon, and I had no care in the world!

Those letters got there safe and I deposited them into the mailbox outside the post office.I cannot remember the exact distance from my house, but I do remember I was a little tired, it was so warm outside and so I decided to sit on the steps that led down from the post office to the street. From there I could see across the trees and houses to the big refinery where my father worked. I had no sense of doom, no idea of what was about to happen, but I do remember feeling I needed to be there. I actually felt a sense of calm. I was waiting but I did not know for what.

Then it happened, a huge loud noise the likes of which I had never heard before, an explosion. That is when I saw the smoke in the distance. I heard it and I saw it and I knew right then that something had happened to my father. However, I was not afraid; I had no sense of fear, no sense of doom. I just knew that he was close - I could feel him, and then I could see him. I could see his face; see his smile, his curly dark hair and his horn-rimmed glasses.

I swear to this day that my father stood right there before me on that sunny Friday afternoon in November 1961. That he was as alive and full of life as he had been that morning when he left for work. He was smiling and telling me that it was ok, that he was fine. He told me to tell my mother that he was ok and that things would be fine. I can still hear his strong Scottish brogue, see his smiling face and hear his words. “Don’t worry darling everything is going to be ok”. Then he was gone.
I would never see my father again.
That explosion and fire took the life of my father and three other men.

I, of course, did tell my mother that he was ok. She did not know what I was talking about. She did not realize anything was amiss until someone came to the door and then she was gone. I told anyone who would listen including my grandmother. She had gotten us children together in one room of our house while my mother had gone to be with my father in the hospital and we were kneeling on the floor in the act of praying for my father’s soul.

My grand mother wanted to know why I was not crying. She said I must be evil, as I shed no tears for my father. I told her that my father had said he was fine and that everything was going to be ok. I told her I saw him, she wanted to know when, where, everything. I told her about my experience at the post office. My Grandmother called me a silly, evil little witch who was just making up stories. She said that I should pray that god would forgive me for not grieving for my father.

How could I? He had said he was ok and that everything would be fine. I did not understand why my grandmother had such a problem with it. Why could she not understand that I had seen my father and that he was as real as life itself. She never acted the same towards me from that time on until her dying day. This was something I never understood until many years later.

It actually took me close to another ten years to shed tears for the loss of my father, and that only occurred after I started to write a poem about him. However, I always knew that my father was with me and that he was ok. He has been my guardian angel ever since that day and his presence will always be with me.

I think that was the beginning of my “spiritual” life. Seeing my father before me as he was physically near death was a lot for a seven-year-old child to comprehend. I took it as it came to me. Believed it happened and never wavered in all the years since, that I had seen, not his physical self but his spiritual self as his body lay dying. I never questioned what I saw. Others did, but not me.
Since that time, throughout my life I had encountered many things that others would find hard to believe. It seems that experience so long ago had set my path, or at least had set my belief system into place.

Our lives went on after my father’s death. I found out later that my father had intended for us to return to Scotland. That he had felt that Australia was not where we should be. I guess he was homesick. We never made it back to Scotland as he died before those plans came to fruition.

My mother had been a Sunday school teacher at our church and unbeknownst to any of us she had been looking for something, something that would open up her world, give her answers to the questions she had about life and livingness, about spirituality and god. She was brought up in a religious home and I had been part of the Church for my whole younger years but I guess her questions had never been answered and so she was looking for more. A close friend of hers had given her Dianetics the Modern Science of Mental Health, a book written by an American Sci-fi writer, L. Ronald Hubbard, before my father died. She apparently had started reading this book and had believed that maybe she had found the answers to her questions about life, livingness, and spirituality. So after my father died, my mother became involved directly with Dianetics. She became involved to the point that a year after my father died we moved lock, stock and barrel to Melbourne where the closest Dianetics group was. Four children, a dog and a new soon to be step father.

I do remember the move, we moved into a wonderful home which was not government owned; it was our very own home. It was a beautiful house with a huge backyard. This home would hold many happy memories for me. In addition, I still remember to this day the address. Strange how some things impinge on a child’s mind. Anyway, this move was the start of a journey through life for me. This journey would take me across continents and countries. Trying and tough times were ahead for me, but there were also times of extreme happiness and delight.

My stepfather had been a Dianeticist from the very early 50s. He worked at the College of Dianetics with some well-known early Scientologists, (blank)and (blank) It was here that I would learn about Dianetics and Scientology and here where I would make friendships that have lasted my lifetime. (blank) and(blank) and their children become fast friends of my family, to the point actually where (blank) and (blank) were legally made our Guardians if anything should happen to my parents. There were many happy times in Australia. Many get togethers of local Dianeticists or Scientologists, whatever you want to call them.

I did not really become involved in the the study of Dianetics and Scientology until I reached the very early teen years. I had a passion for reading and I did read Dianetics, but I found it hard to follow. I found the Bible much more to my liking and I would read it voraciously many times in those days, along with Encyclopedia Britannica and many other wonderful books. I never found Dianetics to be easy to assimilate. I got the gist of it and I figured, hey past lives, spiritual being, yeah that rings true - after all I knew my father had visited me even while he lay dying, so maybe this Dianetics and Scientology made sense. My parents were fully engaged in it and they would many times be at the College, studying, getting auditing etc. I guess they believed in it so much that when the Government of Australia banned it, they decided the best thing to do was to go to Saint Hill, where the great L. Ron Hubbard was.

So again, 1966-67, lock stock and barrel we moved to England. Only this time our dog was the only one left behind. Every stick of furniture went with us. We spent a month on a ship coming across the ocean to England. Our voyage on the ship ended in Genoa, Italy and we took a train to France where we crossed the ocean in a ferry to Dover England. I do remember the voyage and I remember the places we visited and the people we saw. In my short life, I had traveled the world almost. Seemed like it to me. What a wonderful trip for four - oh wait - five, yes my mother and my stepfather had a son. Born in 1964 in Hawthorn Victoria Australia. I had a little brother. I did not really have much to do with my younger brother in the early years. I was a preteen after all and ten yrs older than him, but he plays into my life in present time, but that is for later!

We arrived in England to grayness - dark skies and cold. I do not think I had ever felt that cold. After all, it was winter then. We ended up staying for a short time with some of my parent’s fellow Scientology friends. Finally, after a few weeks made our way down to East Grinstead to stay with the (blank) We stayed with them for some months and were enrolled in school in East Grinstead. I ended up going to Imberhorne High. I liked the school, I liked the people. There was however, a definite feeling about East Grinstead, even at that time, where the people thought that Ron Hubbard and his scientology flock were “strange”.

On one of my first visits to Saint Hill, I met the Hubbard children. They would soon leave for the newly formed Sea Org. I do remember Arthur - very mischievous, he would later take me for rides on his motorcycle and run over huge bugs on the docks in Casablanca just to gross me out and a few times short sheeted my bunk, and put bugs in my bunk, he just loved to play pranks. I remember Diana and her long red hair and I thought how beautiful she was. I remember quiet Quentin and fun loving Suzette. Most of them would play a bigger role in my life to some degree. More on that later.

My parents bought their own house in East Grinstead. One of three they would eventually buy there before leaving to return to Australia. I remember that address also and I remember the countryside, the green, and the horses. I loved England. I loved the country. It always seemed to provide a sense of freedom for me.

My parents also got onto services at Saint Hill. My mother completed OT VII and the Briefing course. My father seemed to be stuck and never really went any further in Scientology at Saint Hill, but there we stayed and there I joined staff at the ripe old age of 14. I became a weekend supervisor for the Children’s Comm course, I then would later join WW staff and work in the OIC area with my older sister and follow her into the Sea Org. I left school at 15 and my sea org career lasted almost 17 yrs.

It just seemed the thing to do. After all, my whole family was Scientologists, us kids by default. My older brother never really got involved and would later join the Military. However, the rest of us were all involved. My two sisters, myself and my younger brother all joined the Sea Org. In those days, when the Sea org was new - everything seemed exciting. My whole life seemed to be made up of adventures and wonderful things. It was there at Saint Hill that I also went “clear”. There were, however times I did get into trouble. First boyfriend things at the age of 14, he was a “wog”, sexual adventures with fellow students who came from overseas, they were all Scientologists. It was put down to “out ethics” and I would do conditions and restitution for many of my teenage “troubles”.

It also included an experience that I will never forget - being raped - yep being raped by a fellow scientologist - an older man who had come from Spain and was a student at Saint Hill. I never told anyone about this - it was at a point in my young life where I was already staff, already well indoctrinated into the “you pulled it in” mode and threatened into silence. I was 15 yrs old. He was well respected and probably 35-40 yrs old at the time. I honestly figured it was my fault. In addition, I had those types of considerations for many more decades about things, which happened to me. There were “nigglies” then - little things that niggled at the back of my mind that maybe, just maybe something was wrong with Scientology. I would push those thoughts away - after all, I was there to help humankind. I honestly thought that I was doing good.

I have always wanted to help others. Always wanted to do good. In addition, I always felt strong guilt that my thoughts about certain things that happened were all because I was out ethics. Having scientology pushed into you at a young age, makes you think it is real and it is what will help others. However, those niggling thoughts did occur right from the beginning of my sea org career at Saint Hill, I would always push them out of the way, and that guilt always made me work even harder at being a good sea org member.

I justified so many times the bad things that happened with “the greatest good” that it did not matter about what happened to me, that the greatest good was for me to be there and help set others “free” What a load of bullshit that was! Took me over forty years to figure it out..... but I finally did.

more to come............

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Wow, Ozzie, that is one incredible story. I really, really understand what you're saying about that niggling feeling, but pushing it aside and deciding that it's all about you and how you're the one that "pulled it in" due to your own "out-ethics". I can't tell you how many times I allowed all manner of personal abuses because I felt that it was "my due" or for the "greatest good for the greatest number of dynamics". Yes, that is BS. And yes, it was only when I actually snapped out of it for a split second and realized that HELL NO, NOBODY deserves to be treated that way, EVER, that I knew it was time to leave -- and fast.

I'm truly sorry for the things that happened to you, and very happy that you are able to write about it now. I've just started writing myself, and with each line I write, I feel a burden lifting. Thank you so much for starting to write your story, and definitely continue! :thumbsup:


Patron Meritorious
Oh Ozzie!

This is not the first time you have brought me to tears with your words.

But these are good tears.

I am so glad that you are telling your story and that the 'nigglies' are finally being revealed.

I don't really have words! :heartflower:




Patron with Honors
Glad to see you've made it out of the madness, Ozzie.

Life is to be enjoyed, friendliness all round, etc.

Looking forward to hearing more from you and sending best intentions your way.


Patron with Honors
Thank you all for your kind words!
Here's a little more....................

I found the Sea Org in the beginning to be adventurous. The time I joined was full of doing things like renovating a new building, doing sea org basics on a small boat in the lake at Saint Hill. Fun times with many fun young people. We would sometimes all go up to London for our day off - a train ride away - and spend a night at a fellow scientologists house - all of us. There was a lot of comradeship and a lot of good times to be had. We all felt like a team and we all worked together to do what we thought was the right thing to do. There were times we would go to events - set them up, give out flyers on the street and even though people would throw them away and call us weird and strange we all felt we were doing the right thing. I think it had a lot to do with the fact that most of us were all very young - teenagers, early 20s somethings and all of us were into helping others. It was almost like a “craze” at that time. Young people did get into doing things for others and they would form bonds that were tight and very hard to break. The spirit is what kept me there and going.

I worked at Saint Hill until late 71 as a Sea Org member. I had many friends, many good times and truly felt that this was the place I was meant to be. There were things that occurred that didn’t make sense to me - strange sec checks given by one of the “big wigs” there that were actually only designed to get the “juicies” on someone. I had one of those - unfortunately everyone already knew all the juicies on me. Ha! Some of the GO folks were also so full of themselves that if you looked at them wrong you had overts and then you’d have knowledge reports written on you about your missed withholds and would end up being sec checked. Those things were some of things that stuck in my head as being wrong, but it wasn’t enough to end my sense of adventure and my desire to help. In late 71 I was sent off the “Flag”. Man was I excited. My younger sister had been sent just before I went and I was looking forward to being on the Apollo where the great L.Ron was, and looking forward to what I thought would be more adventures. Sailing the seas had a romantic sense to it. And of course I would be there to help at the root of everything.

I can say that I would never trade my experiences in the Sea Org in the early years. I learnt a lot and I gained a lot of wonderful friends. Many of whom are currently declared. These people on board the Apollo were the original management and the original tech people, many of whom worked directly with LRH. It was here on board this tin bucket called the Apollo that I would enter into the world of management and stay in management of scientology orgs for the majority of my sea org career.
It was also here that I become totally indoctrinated into Scientology and the belief of “source”. It was also here that I would learn the other side of LRH and hear and see how he treated those around him. It was here I learnt how to be a subordinate, a nothingness, to keep quiet about the wrongnesses and go along with the flow. It was here that I would experience the first RPF and see and feel the degradation of myself and others. I was in the first RPF with Quentin, a wonderful kind person who didn’t deserve to be treated the way he was treated by his father. Quentin also would be my auditor later on - what a wonderful person he was! So kind and so thoughtful. Not a mean bone in that boys body! All Quentin ever wanted to do was fly. He never was allowed - so he one day blew.

The RPF had just been put into effect and quite a few people who were considered bad or useless or committing overts were put onto the RPF for rehabilitation. My crime was being on watch at sea as a Radar operator - there were two of us and we were going around the Cape of Good Hope - apparently a very dangerous Cape. What the heck did I know? I wasn’t a friggin sailor! Anyway, the Captain of the ship whom I won’t name and the con of the watch whom I won’t name had told both us poor radar ops to stand aside and quit plotting as they were trying to maneuver the “ship” around this Cape. Well, we did - we stood aside and guess who came onto the bridge? You got it - the old man himself. The Capt and the con were not on the bridge at the time they were in the charting room just off the bridge, but LRH wanted to know what was happening with a particular vessel on the radar screen and wanted to see the plots for it. I didn’t have it and didn’t know what was going on with this vessel. I did know the vessel wasn’t close and that we were in no danger of hitting it, I told the old man that we had been ordered to step aside so the Capt and the Con could see for themselves what was going on, without us in the way - they had been rushing in and out and looking at the radar.

Well, there was my route to the RPF. Of course he called in the Capt and the Con and asked if it was true what I had said. They being the Capt and the Con I’m sure didn’t want to get in trouble, so they said they had not ordered us to step aside. Wow - I was flabbergasted! They were protecting their own behinds and mine was hung out to dry. I have never heard L Ron scream so much in my life! That was when he called me a few choice names that I will never forget. And one of those names started with a “C”. Needless to say I ended up on the brand new, degrading RPF. Where we slept in the hold on disgusting mattresses and wore black boiler suits, none of which fit. Where we ran everywhere, weren’t allowed to see our spouses, weren’t allowed to talk to anyone without them speaking first, where we had to call EVERYONE Sir, where we weren’t allowed to eat with our friends and were fed the leftovers. Where we were supposed to “rehabilitate” ourselves for the horrible things we had done. It was degrading and it was humiliating. We were treated like pond scum by the others on board. People you thought were your friends and even your spouse wouldn’t look at you or speak to you. We had to clean decks with toothbrushes, heads (toilets) were also cleaned this way and they were white gloved and they had to pass or there were laps around the decks or the docks. The locals would look at us like we were nuts.

I did ask for a comm- ev, unfortunately the chairman of the commev was the con of the watch. Do you reckon it was fair???

I did however finally settle into my life in the RPF and was actually doing alright when I was told to get off the RPF by a messenger and return to my post. It seems my senior needed me back.
If any of you have read the Flag Order about being a spectator - that was written about me.
So even though there were good times - get togethers and parties for Christmas and such there were more bad and trying times overall. There were days and days sometimes of no sleep trying to meet deadlines set. One such comes to mind when we were all ordered from the top not to go to bed until all orgs had been evaluated with a current eval. I think we were up for a week, maybe more. Now these evaluations were done at the time from information that was collected from every single org and sent to Flag. We had data files full of reports and analysis etc and evaluations were done off this information. I have read in the past that a lot of people further down the line believed management was the reason that the orgs were in horrible condition. I have to say that at the time I was in management and that was many years, we went off what was provided us by the orgs themselves.

Management at that time consisted of some very dedicated and wonderful people who thought that what they were doing was right. I never found in any of these people any bad intentions or any meanness. That was to come later on.

I'll post more later - gotta go to work.........

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Gold Meritorious Patron
Do you have the # of that "spectator" FO? or a link to it?

Enjoying reading your story...thanks.



Patron with Honors
Sorry Alex I don't have a link or number for the FO. I quite frankly was too humiliated to even more than read it once. Never kept a copy



Squirrel Extraordinaire
Do you have the # of that "spectator" FO? or a link to it?

Enjoying reading your story...thanks.


Type of Work: Text
Registration Number / Date: TX0002569239 / 1988-01-28
Title: Spectatorism.
Series: HCO policy letter of 13 September 1980
Notes: Cataloged from appl.
Copyright Claimant: Norman F. Starkey as executor of the Estate of L. Ron Hubbard
Date of Creation: 1980
Date of Publication: 1980-09-13
Authorship on Application: text: L. Ron Hubbard; compilation: Church of Scientology of California, employer for hire.
Copyright Note: C.O. correspondence.

Names: Starkey, Norman F.
Hubbard, L. Ron, 1911-1986
Church of Scientology of California
L. Ron Hubbard Estate of

(I seem to recall the FO was reissued as a PL.)



Patron with Honors
Got a few secs before I leave for work, here's a bit more........

One thing about Flag - we did get to visit many different countries and we did get to experience many different cultures. There were times when we did get liberty and would go ashore and to discos and out to dinner and the beach. However they were not consistent. Especially in Management where it was tightly controlled from above. The orgs and scientology were directly run by LRH, not anyone else. All the orders were received from above and were carried out by the management on board the Apollo. So, it is BS that the scientology structure was not controlled by LRH and that he was not on management lines. I was there and I was part of it and he mostly definitely was.

It should also be noted that many evals done on orgs after they had gone through AVU (authority and verification unit) were sent up lines and he did see them and did critique many of them. Many management orders were gotten from above like this. The SO 1 line by the way was answered by one or two staff, not LRH. It should also be noted that the entire SO 1 line was critiqued also by the AVU - I know because I was in it and I was one of the two who did the critiquing. The letters were in the large majority not answered by LRH even though it was specifically stated that he saw and answered every one - that was BS. He would occasionally read a few and write a few personal comments - but that is it. A large majority of the evals were also approved at one period by LRH.

Some of you may have heard of the “Kali” incident. That really did happen. The management staff who were doing evaluations and carrying out the programs on the orgs were all called into the course room on the ship and were ordered to “destroy” a replica of an org and ordered to worship Kali the goddess of destruction. This was a direct order from LRH himself! I was there I saw it - I was not forced to participate in this destruction of orgs (the replicas) but was ordered to watch. It was degrading and it caused many of these management evaluators and staff to actually cry with despair at having to be forced to destroy an org because they were told their actions were resulting in destroyed orgs. Many broke down and many were extremely traumatized by this action.

There were also times on board that you could hear him screaming at the top of his lungs and everyone in management would cringe wondering what was going on and whose head on a pike was next. People were scared shitless! It was all control and fear that kept management going. However, not one of those people on management lines was an evil rotten person, all believed that what they were doing was right. Of course there were a few - and I say a FEW who let the whole “executive” thing go to their heads. They would scream and yell at their staff, but in the large majority many of management and many of the execs at the time were there for the sole purpose of helping expand Scientology and that was pushed to be helping others (ie one and the same thing) and I really don’t think any of them were there for their own personal gain - we got paid a pittance - barely 10-15 dollars a week. Well in Dirham that would buy quite a bit - maybe two cartons of cigs - yep the majority of us smoked like crazy! Besides we got cigs and stuff from the canteen duty free so it was cheap! We had to buy all our own toiletries and in the majority of cases our own unis.

There was a time when we did a clean ship program and we did get some shirts and trousers but other than that the majority of us bought our own clothing. There were also at times cockroach “derbies” - yep even issues about them - where we could make some dollars by locating and destroying their nests. Maybe 20 bucks if the nest was big! We lived with cockroaches and other bugs on board - millions of them and at night sometimes they would crawl across peoples faces and bodies as they slept. God forbid if you snored with your mouth open! I kid you not. I woke up many a night with cockroaches on my face. I hated those things! Those that could afford it had better clothing - some got money from rellies and such, some of us couldn’t afford it and we were scraggy a lot of times because of it. Ten bucks wasn’t much and when we went ashore it went up to 17 - and that didn’t buy diddly shit in the real world!

But the one thing that was pushed and indoctrinated into us was that our own personal needs were not important. We put everything over ourselves including our own health and our appearance. Everything that is that was the Sea Org and LRH. Forget about your own family - they were not important and they were “other intentioned” otherwise they would be doing the same thing you were. That was actively pushed and it was the “mind think” at the time. It got worse as the years passed. Especially after coming ashore.

Till later....................

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Patron with Honors
Thanks Ozzie for the great stories. Methinks that FO was also issued as a PL later or something like that. Awaiting eagerly for the next installments. :thumbsup:


Patron Meritorious

This is an amazing nails are down to the nubs :nailbiting:


Silver Meritorious Patron
EEEWWW!!!! You are making me itch!!

I lived in a small room meant for 2 in the FH with 7 or 8 other girls. We had to live out of suitcases stuffed between the bunks, and one morning I opened my suitcase and at least 100 of those humogous palmetto cockroaches came scuttling out. I had forgotten that sound, thanks so much for reminding me, I will be including you in the nightmare I am sure to have tonight. (No offense.)

Why I didn't pack up and leave right then I have no idea...but SO members are taught to confront, no case on post, and "this Universe is a rough universe. It is a terrible and deadly universe. Only the strong survive it, and only the ruthless can own it." (LRH in History of man.)

I sure didn't want to be thought a "namby pamby pantywaist" so I put on my roach infested panties and went to muster.


Patron with Honors
Sorry guys! Didn't mean to make you itch - but ewwwww Ladybird roach infested panties?????
I do know what you mean though! Kinda like ants in ya pants but roaches instead LOL:yes:

Anyway want to thank each and everyone who is reading this - don't have a lot of time right now but I will answer all personal mails and stuff.

Heres a little more (sorry about the paragraphs - it just pastes this way)

One thing which needs mentioning as this was part of the indoctrination into the whole Scientology/Sea Org deal. When briefed before going to Flag we were all told that there was what was called a “shore story” this story it turns out was the start of “acceptable truths” - in other words, a good way to learn how to lie so the people you were lying to would think you were telling the truth. Another great thing taught to us young Sea Org members! Lie through your teeth about what was going on - but lie in such a way that those you were lying to thought you weren’t! Of course, the reasons given were for the protection of the Church and LRH. Funny thing was - never questioned it - because of course all those horrible SPs out there were out to get us!

I never realized until much later on in life how easy it actually became to lie to “wogs” - the ordinary everyday folks, who we were of course NOT! Contempt for people outside of Scientology was a given really and it got very much worse once we moved ashore to Clearwater Florida.

When that move came I was still working in the AVU as a Verifications Officer, alongside of Suzette with whom I had become quite friendly. Suzette and I had some good times together, she was a fun loving girl, but she definitely had a wild streak and a rebellious attitude. There were times she would do things and say I don’t care what my father thinks I’m doing it anyway! She read my tarot cards more than once and my first born is named after her. Now, talk about mixing practices - but hey it was fun. There were times on the ship when she and I would sit on the docks as the sun came up, sometimes after being up for a day or two and we would smack the sides of the dock with our shoes to watch the crabs that were plastered all over run for it. Silly stuff like that - but the thing that was great about it was sitting there watching the sun rise - the quiet, the sea and friends. Stuff like that sticks in my mind as things that were great about being there. I realize now that it was the closeness and the friendships with others that were good. Not the work, not the orders, not the screaming or the other crap that went on but the friendships, those I can treasure forever. All the rest I can let go of.

Coming ashore to Florida was a big move. Every foreign person on board was sent separately than those who were American born. The American people were sent to New York to set up shop as RONY (If I remember correctly), in other words to take over management of orgs while all the rest of us went to Daytona beach. I remember the bus ride once we arrived in the US and I remember a little of what went on there. I no longer was in AVU but ended up doing an HCO post. I had been separated from my husband as he was American and had ended up going to the Fort Harrison - he had been an engineer on the ship when we put to shore so he and the other American engineers were sent to set up Fort Harrison. I didn’t see him for months. All us foreigners were in Daytona beach. Again a shore story and a bunch of lies. Again, never thought twice about it. We gleefully told everyone our shore story. We also were told not to go on the beach. Of course the reason being that LRH was just down the road and would walk on the beach and we weren’t supposed to know that - why I have no clue but that was the way it was.

That time in Daytona moved quickly and we all ended up back at the Fort Harrison after it was cleaned up and ready for occupancy. Those early days were made up of setting up management and the beginnings of the service org. I ended up back in AVU for some time, before I was taken out for use in management itself.

Management was situated in what we called the Lerner building. It had previously been a store and was empty. We moved in there temporarily until the Bank Building was bought.
It was also in those early days that we had a baby boom. Many of the married couples on board the Apollo had wanted children but we all knew that we couldn’t have kids on the ship. It was a no no. When we moved ashore the procreation started. A nursery was set up and babies started being born. It should be noted that every single one of us pregnant women went on welfare. All our babies were born through a clinic that was government run. We were welfare recipients! But of course we had a “shore story”. Of course all the kids that were born there were put onto the barley formula. This formula it turns out was not something that should have been fed to all those kids. But it was pushed on us that it was LRHs formula so we used it. It was made daily and all our children were fed it. No milk, no manufactured formula - government approved for babies. Oh no, god forbid that we fed our kids any of that. After all, the whole government were Sps! Of course no one questioned that this formula was supposedly rediscovered by LRH from an old roman recipe! I tend to think that it was utter bull. Where it came from I don’t know but I do know my children’s teeth were ruined by it. Too much caro syrup. A somewhat powerful form of sugar. Of course, it would be blamed on the people who made it as they made it wrong and there was no way the formula itself was wrong. There was an incident where a baby did die, the person who made the formula was blamed and consequently offloaded. But that is a personal story and I won’t go into details or names here.

Personal things did occur here to do with my children and my personal life. That was the start in my eyes of heavy ethics. Not only in personal lives but in management and the service org. Many good fine people left after the first years on the land base. Many were found suppressive after years of service. The big L1 witch hunt went on and there were certain young individuals put into positions of power who abused that power and went after people. It was a strange time. Management got more and more into heavy stuff also. There were deadlines to meet, no sleep sometimes for 7-10 days. Being sent on missions in the middle of winter to parts of the country that were snow bound and told to “make it go right” “do or die”. Of course if you didn’t have winter clothing - too bad, find some. Times when some of us went actually quite nuts due to lack of sleep and poor nutrition. It progressively got worse and worse. Management terminals would come and go and then there were some that were just there through it all, myself included.

Medical attention was lousy, if one were sick and I mean REALLY sick one ended up in a room with other sick people (isolation) and was basically ignored till you got better, sometimes you were lucky if you got fed, and of course sickness was PTSness therefore it was something you were doing by being connected to an SP . There was one time where I had a major miscarriage and I was stuck in a room on a mattress on the floor with no sheets to lie there till I stopped bleeding. Needless to say I ended up in surgery because it was not handled correctly. The consensus was I pulled it in and I was PTS! No guidance, no compassion, no nothing. In fact I was sec checked because of it, as I “had crimes against children”. Nutrition was also poor, and forget about being able to go up the bridge - if one did it was through sheer luck as far as I am concerned. Of course there were courses and policies and flag orders that management had to know so of course we had to study them. I did manage to complete the data series course, the OEC and most of the FEBC and a number of other invented courses. I also managed after 17 yrs to get through some of the OT levels. OT 111 remains incomplete and has for over 20 yrs. I certainly am not dead or sick but in fact am more alive than I ever was there.

This also was the time when rice and beans were started. Sometimes we were on it for months. That is all we ate. breakfast I think we were allowed oatmeal, but the other two meals were rice and beans. Our cook got very inventive with those beans. He did learn how to flavor them so we had some taste instead of just plain red beans. They were disgusting all the same. This all came from the “top”. There were LRH orders on it. We were too downstat to have regular food, so until we raised the stats that is what we ate. And forget about liberty. After a year or two you were lucky to get a day off in a month. Family time was at times cancelled and there were times when I didn’t see my daughters for weeks on end. I hated that and I felt so guilty about not being there for them, but again that was “other intentioned and they were just thetans in little bodies and could handle it”. OOOOOK!!!!

Vacations were few and far between and only could be taken when upstat and a replacement - ok how does one get a replacement for a management post? Hard as hell and there were times when my husband and children went on vacation without me. And of course we had no TV, were not allowed to read the papers as they were “too entheta”, were really not allowed to become involved with the locals. They didn’t like us that was obvious, some would call us names and ask us if we ever smiled. There was one particular incident with a local which really struck home with me and made me think really hard about what we were doing there - a bunch of us were walking down the street to the management building - mid summer, very hot, sweating like pigs (forget air conditioning we weren’t allowed to use it), we went into a shop and got coffee - coffee was a big thing with SO members - kept us awake after days of no sleep. It had just rained and was muggy and the streets were somewhat flooded in the gutters. Walking past a gutter full of water from the recent rain a local came driving by and deliberately drove through the water, yelling at us, calling us crazy scienos - of course it covered all of us is dirty hot water. The guy nearest me - closer to the curb got really angry - the car had stopped a little way up at the stop sign and had its windows down. He threw his whole cup of hot coffee in the window at the driver of that car, he was sooo mad and so sick of being called names by the locals, he came back to us and said - there I showed that SP! Shows you our think at the time. We were like robots, and from personal experience I can say we acted like them too. And we all believed that what we were doing was right and that everyone else just didn’t get it. It was constantly fed into us that it was “us” against “them” - the poor wogs held down by big bad Sps.
Yes those were trying times ……..

Till later .......

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My god, Ozzie, this story brings back some lovely memories! You know, I haven't seen a Palmetto bug since I left -- maybe my confront has lowered - lol!

The part about all the pregnant SO members being on welfare -- well, isn't that interesting. Seems just a tad contradictory to what we were indoctrinated into regarding "welfare states", doesn't it?

Your story is heart-wrenching, to say the least. I'm so glad you made it through all that and you have clearly come out of it a much stronger, wiser person. That's what I think about when I look back at those years -- at first I berated myself for all that "wasted time", until I realized what I learned from all that, and where I am now because of it. Of course, I'd never go back and do it again :)omg:) but I am definitely wiser now.

And boy, can I handle a lot of work and pressure without any problem. I have family members who are always asking me why I work so much -- I think it's hysterical. I'm working maybe 50-60 hours a week and the rest of the time just goofing around, and this is perceived as working too much! If only they knew! Actually, I'm glad they don't. :happydance: