Ted
Gold Meritorious Patron
I am posting for a friend of mine, Wanda Novak. This is her story. Her web site is <http://www.neversaycant.net>. There is nothing about Scientology on the web site; there is no mention of Scientology in her book, Never Say Can't: Memoir of a Successful Woman.
The book is not meant for Scientology people, but some former scios have read it. This series of postings make up the "back story," of interest to ex-scios, of no interest to others.
I encouraged Wanda to write it because it ties in with Face's story and some others. Wanda's story is what was happening to her as an "upstat" public while all the other craziness was happening elsewhere. Some day a compiler can put this all together to show what a nut case of a manager Hubbard was.
No doubt you will have questions. I will try to have these answered as the postings progress.
Here is the first installment:
http://www.wowt.com/news/headlines/3596986.html
To be continued...
The book is not meant for Scientology people, but some former scios have read it. This series of postings make up the "back story," of interest to ex-scios, of no interest to others.
I encouraged Wanda to write it because it ties in with Face's story and some others. Wanda's story is what was happening to her as an "upstat" public while all the other craziness was happening elsewhere. Some day a compiler can put this all together to show what a nut case of a manager Hubbard was.
No doubt you will have questions. I will try to have these answered as the postings progress.
Here is the first installment:
It was late 1974, close to Christmas when my story begins.
Before I had any involvement in Scientology, I was kind of halfway dating a DJ whose career was on the rise having moved from WOW AM radio in Omaha, NB to a large, powerful station in Minneapolis. I was the first woman to sell advertising time in the television market. At the time I was concerned about my sales skills. The DJ told me about the Church of Scientology, specifically, “They have this communications course, and it would just be dynamite for you in sales.” He said, “It’s really cheap and you can get it done in a week of evening classes.”
I said, “Okay, I’ll give it a go.” I looked in the telephone book, and I’ll be damned, but it wasn’t a block from the TV station where I worked. I went down there, and I took their silly little test. The [Mission Holder’s] owner’s son-in-law asked, “Have you ever taken this test before--or a test like it?” I said, “No. I don’t think so.” He said, “I don’t understand it because you are at the top of every category.”
I asked, “Is that bad?” He said, “No. We’ve just never had anyone come in with that high of a score in all the subjects.” I said, “Look, I don’t care about scores or any of that. I just heard that you have a really good communications course, and I want to take it.” He said, “You have to do this evaluation first.” I told him I don’t want to fool around. I want to take the course. When does it start?” I think it was $75 and they started every Monday.
The course drug on for over a month. During that time they talked me into processing. At the same time they let my 10-year old son work in the back in their library. We talked over my son getting processing along with me getting processing.
The Mission, led by the Mission Holder/ED, had a big survival kick going on. He had a place down in Missouri that he had purchased for peanuts. He was getting everybody to buy into it because “the world was coming to an end.” As the world came to an end they would be down there for a while then they would return and “take over” Omaha. Taking none of it too seriously, I kind of laughed at the whole idea.
The Mission Holder/ED invited us down to take a look at the place. I didn’t know what it was back then, but I later learned that during the trip in the car he had told us OT-3 material. My son got an immediate fever and broke out with measles. That was peculiar because my son had already had the measles. We stopped for emergency medical treatment and they gave us stuff to get his fever down.
That night my son was lying in bed when he started screaming. I was sitting downstairs in this rickety old place. His entire body was on fire like he had been burnt. Having no other solution I put him in ice. I got his fever down below 101. I put him on the couch by my side for the rest of the night. I went to the kitchen to get the fever breaking medication. I walked back into the room where my son was lying down. Don Hill was there telling my unconscious son that he was in the wrong body to do what he wanted to do this life.
I asked Don Hill what was going on. He said, “Nothing.” I told him that we had to head back to Omaha in the morning so my son could be with his regular doctor.
After that I started having dreams that were like a movie where the reel had skipped a cog going flutter, flutter, flutter. The Mission people told me I needed processing. And, they would enforce that by doing something or saying something to ARCX me every time I came into the Mission. My auditing time was consumed with addressing these ARC breaks.
Within the next year, my son was in two fires requiring medical attention, one with second and third degree burns to his face and head. A few months later, he was dead.
Before I had any involvement in Scientology, I was kind of halfway dating a DJ whose career was on the rise having moved from WOW AM radio in Omaha, NB to a large, powerful station in Minneapolis. I was the first woman to sell advertising time in the television market. At the time I was concerned about my sales skills. The DJ told me about the Church of Scientology, specifically, “They have this communications course, and it would just be dynamite for you in sales.” He said, “It’s really cheap and you can get it done in a week of evening classes.”
I said, “Okay, I’ll give it a go.” I looked in the telephone book, and I’ll be damned, but it wasn’t a block from the TV station where I worked. I went down there, and I took their silly little test. The [Mission Holder’s] owner’s son-in-law asked, “Have you ever taken this test before--or a test like it?” I said, “No. I don’t think so.” He said, “I don’t understand it because you are at the top of every category.”
I asked, “Is that bad?” He said, “No. We’ve just never had anyone come in with that high of a score in all the subjects.” I said, “Look, I don’t care about scores or any of that. I just heard that you have a really good communications course, and I want to take it.” He said, “You have to do this evaluation first.” I told him I don’t want to fool around. I want to take the course. When does it start?” I think it was $75 and they started every Monday.
The course drug on for over a month. During that time they talked me into processing. At the same time they let my 10-year old son work in the back in their library. We talked over my son getting processing along with me getting processing.
The Mission, led by the Mission Holder/ED, had a big survival kick going on. He had a place down in Missouri that he had purchased for peanuts. He was getting everybody to buy into it because “the world was coming to an end.” As the world came to an end they would be down there for a while then they would return and “take over” Omaha. Taking none of it too seriously, I kind of laughed at the whole idea.
The Mission Holder/ED invited us down to take a look at the place. I didn’t know what it was back then, but I later learned that during the trip in the car he had told us OT-3 material. My son got an immediate fever and broke out with measles. That was peculiar because my son had already had the measles. We stopped for emergency medical treatment and they gave us stuff to get his fever down.
That night my son was lying in bed when he started screaming. I was sitting downstairs in this rickety old place. His entire body was on fire like he had been burnt. Having no other solution I put him in ice. I got his fever down below 101. I put him on the couch by my side for the rest of the night. I went to the kitchen to get the fever breaking medication. I walked back into the room where my son was lying down. Don Hill was there telling my unconscious son that he was in the wrong body to do what he wanted to do this life.
I asked Don Hill what was going on. He said, “Nothing.” I told him that we had to head back to Omaha in the morning so my son could be with his regular doctor.
After that I started having dreams that were like a movie where the reel had skipped a cog going flutter, flutter, flutter. The Mission people told me I needed processing. And, they would enforce that by doing something or saying something to ARCX me every time I came into the Mission. My auditing time was consumed with addressing these ARC breaks.
Within the next year, my son was in two fires requiring medical attention, one with second and third degree burns to his face and head. A few months later, he was dead.
http://www.wowt.com/news/headlines/3596986.html
To be continued...