Blown for Good Behind the Iron Curtain of Scientology (11 page)

So Stephanie better not have left anything off of her life history forms! Not that she had been sharing needles with someone or could have done anything that potent, she was 15 years old and she had never gotten in any kind of trouble that I could remember.

Two of the missionaires came and saw me in my area. I assumed they were there to brief me about Stephanie going onto clearance lines. They introduced themselves and gave me a telex to read. Scientology still used TELEXES in 1990! Yes, they had a whole numbering system and they had to be formatted a certain way and there was actually a course on how to write them! Anyway, they gave me this telex which was a few paragraphs about how International Management was gearing up to do the biggest dissemination in the history of Scientology and a lot of people were needed to move to the headquarters to make this happen. Following the text was a list of 50 people who were named to take part in this dissemination. A few of the people I knew, but for the most part it was a list of people that I had never heard of before. I saw my sister’s name and I was like okay, I gave them back the telex. They asked me how I felt about this and I said that I was happy for my sister and I wished her luck. They looked at each other a bit puzzled and told me to read the list again.

I didn’t read the entire list after I reached my sister’s name, I had already seen a ton of names that meant nothing to me. But there it was, clear as could be – my damn name! My name was on this list! I couldn’t believe it. I thought that surely someone had screwed up, how the hell did my name end up on this list? I wasn’t officially posted as it was. I had just been removed from a post and I was the local screw off at ABLE. Also, I was only 16 and had no experience doing anything. Why was my name on this list? Then I got to the bottom of the list and read the name of the person who had written the telex and compiled the list: Watchdog Committee Programs. That was my old friend from Delphi – Ali Mintz. She had put my sister and me on the list because she knew us. What a scam! How was I possibly going to get through a security check? Hopefully, I wouldn’t end up on the Rehabilitation Project Force from whatever came up.

The missionaires could see from the look on my face that I had seen my name. This telex took on a whole different meaning now. I actually re-read the entire thing now that it affected me and was not just some random order that had come down from the glass ceiling. I was in a tricky spot. I can’t refuse a promotion. It is sort of like admitting you have skeletons in the closet, or a myriad of other things, but it boils down to the fact that you are defying their code of ethics no matter what your reason is for refusing. Just then, I thought of the policy about someone having to be replaced before they could move to another post. This was my saving grace. It would take months for another person to be recruited to fill my post, and even then, they would have to do the entry program, and then I would have to turn everything over and the IRS tax stuff would have to be completed. So I hoped everything would go okay and that I would make it through this if I was ever replaced on my post. I grinned and thanked them for coming.

I asked them what they had planned for my replacement. Technically there was a bit of a loophole on that part, because I was never
officially
posted as the Treasury Secretary, I did not officially have to be replaced. I was essentially free to go!

I wrote up what I did each day and handed this over to the new Cope Officer, Betty. The look on Betty’s face was priceless. I was being promoted and Betty, my watchdog, could not stand to see it happening.

Most of the people who worked on clearances were part of the Commodore’s Messenger organization. They worked on the 11th floor and were younger girls and a few guys. They had an exact system of what someone needed to do to get through clearances and proceed on to the International Base. The problem was that not many people had been getting approved for the promotion and a lot of people were held up on the security check because their dirty laundry started to air out.

I couldn’t imagine how I would get through my own sec checking when I had skipped school for a full year and was your average unruly child and caused my share of trouble.

The person in charge of the clearance unit was a girl named Claudia Olander. Claudia was from Europe but you could barely tell. She had been in the United States long enough to lose most of her accent, but she was Swiss. She had long dark hair and was slender. She was in her early twenties and I thought she was one of the hottest girls in the building. I had a hard time listening to her when she was talking to me as my mind would wander. Anyway, she was nice.

I spent the first day of my clearances doing tests and filling out “Life History” forms. They were exactly that. I had to write down my entire life up to this point. This included ANY sexual experiences I had had, with who and what dates they occurred. I had to list every friend I had, past and present, relatives names and where they lived, anything about my life had to be on the form.

My auditor—Scientology “counsellor”—was a woman named Pat Bromley. She was from the Senior Case Supervisor International Office. She was an older, slender, sort of cute blonde woman who seemed pretty happy whenever I saw her. She was someone who, even if you imagined them mad or upset, you could at the same time picture them giving you a cookie. She was seemingly incapable of anger. She was the perfect auditor for me. We started with the sec checking and she was asking me about all sorts of things that I was not expecting:

Was I a reporter for a newspaper? Was I a plant? Did I have ties to any pharmaceutical companies? Had I ever been hypnotized? Had I ever been electro shocked? Had I taken Angel Dust? Was I an undercover operative for a government agency? Had I ever publicly spoken badly about Scientology in a media article? Was I wanted by the Police? Did I have family that were employed by the government or did they have upper level security clearances? The questions went on for pages and pages. Every once in awhile she would stop and ask me if I was thinking about anything. I responded “No, just that I am not involved in any of these things you are asking me about.” After the first batch of questions, she informed me that I did not need to answer each of them with a verbal response, and that the E-Meter would in fact give her my answer. So instead of saying “no” after every question she asked, I could just sit there and stare at her, the wall or the E-Meter itself. Cool. This will be a breeze.

My sec checking took three full days. It seemed like there were hundreds and hundreds of questions. After the first few hours during the first day, I zoned out and focused on not falling asleep. I thought to myself how unbelievable it was that it took people months to get through this, people must have had “yes” answers to the questions for it to take longer than a few days. Pat was happy, I was happy. As far as I could tell, we were done.

But after the initial list of questions, there was another list that was about the previous list! I was in shock. A list of questions about the list I was just asked about. This time another guy asked me this new list. His name was Bruce Hines, who also worked in the Senior Case Supervisor International Office. He seemed cool and the list wasn’t as long. Had I lied about an answer? Had I thought about another answer when asked a question? Did I purposely influence the E-Meter to get out of answering a question? All I could think about while he was asking me questions is that I had not answered any questions! I had sat there thinking about nothing or how Pat was kind of hot and even though she was at least 15 years older than me, she seemed like she could be decent in the sack! And if I was not thinking about Pat, I was imagining going a few rounds with Claudia!

After Bruce was done he told me that the folder would go up and that the completed staff work for my promotion should be completed in the next few days.

I headed back up to the Clearance Unit and Claudia told me that my promotion proposal was going to Int tonight for review! It was Tuesday and I could potentially be approved and at the International Base by Thursday if we were lucky. The promotion proposal was a Completed Staff Work. If you want to do anything in the Sea Org, you have to have a Completed Staff Work approved in order to get authorization to work. If you wanted to go see your mom who was in town for a day, you had to get a CSW approved in order to do so.

Most of the people in the clearance unit were amazed that I had zipped through my entire sec check in under a week. Claudia had written so many CSWs for Clearances, she had already written the CSW and just plopped my name in the appropriate places. She asked me to help her pump up how awesome I was and how I should go to the International Base. After all was said and done, we managed to make my unimpressive history look like I was God’s gift to the Sea Org.

The promotion proposal would now be sent to the headquarters and we would be informed if there were questions. Claudia told me there were always questions and these things could sometimes go back and forth for weeks before being either approved or disapproved.

The next day I hung out in the clearance office and helped Claudia with her work. I was bringing folders to people in the building and gathering up tests from people and doing busy work while we waited for the results.

It was after lunch when Claudia got a call from the International Base. They could not figure out how I qualified for promotion while only being in the Sea Org for nine months. There was a qualification that you had to have at least one year of experience in the Sea Org before moving up to the headquarters. Claudia told them that I had worked at Delphi for six months and that between that and ABLE, I was qualified. They bought it. They told her that my promotion proposal was going on to the last approval terminal and that we should hear back later that night.

At 8
 p.m.
, Claudia came in to the office where I was grading someone’s tests and told me that I was approved! Holy shit, that was fast! I am really going. This is really happening. She said that I was going to be taken to my apartment to get my stuff and that I was going to be taken to the base tonight. I could only imagine how long it would take to get there, given I had no clue where the International Base was.

The location of Int was strictly confidential, no one actually spoke about where it was or anything about it for that matter. If you knew where it was or had been there and told anyone about this, you, along with anyone you told, would instantly be assigned to the Rehabilitation Project Force! For this reason, I had never really thought about its location, but figured it to be somewhere north of Los Angeles. Everyone always referred to it as “up” so I assumed it was north, maybe Sacramento or San Francisco. I had seen a few pictures of “Gold”, short for Golden Era Productions, and also known as the International Base, and everything was always so green. This, factored in with the “up,” Int must have been somewhere very green.

A black gal named Renee Norton met me in the clearance unit. She stood out because there were only about 10 black people that I had ever seen in Scientology, so I remembered that I had seen this woman around. She had a few gold bars on her shoulder boards and everyone was always calling her “Sir’. In the Sea Org you call any senior officer “Sir” regardless of their sex. Renee told me that she was the Supercargo Golden Era Productions and that she would be driving me to my new home at Gold.

We went to the parking lot across from the Hollywood Guaranty Building. She led me to a run-down Red Nissan Hatchback that sat parked in the lot. “Wow, this thing is going to make it all the way up to Int?” I hoped so.

We stopped by my apartment near the complex and grabbed my clothes and a few of my things. She said that the rest of my belongings would be packed up and sent to me in the next few days.

We got on the road and headed to Gold.

We got on the freeway and took the 101 to the 10! We’re heading east. I wondered where the hell we are going. After a while I recognize the route as the same way I had been to Big Bear once or twice before. Was Gold in Big Bear?

After two hours, I suddenly woke up as we came up on a huge blue and yellow lighted sign that said Golden Era Productions in huge letters and had a crawling red digital readout below it. For a super secret place it did not seem so secret. If you drove by and did NOT see the sign, I would say that you were definitely visually impaired.

We pulled up to a guard booth that had a security guard in it. Renee said that she had “Marc Headley” with her. They look at a list in the booth and let us pass through.

Renee said that we had to go to Motor Pool and wash the car. Part of me is wondering what the hell she just said and the other part knows what she said and is wondering why the hell we are washing this heap at midnight?

We pulled into a parking spot near a huge garage and sure enough, she grabbed a hose. We made little effort to actually clean the car but went through the motions, the car
was
wet. She told me that I needed to meet with Ray McKay. He was going to be my buddy and tell me what to do. But right now, I needed to catch the bus to the barracks, or as we knew it, berthing. She gave me an apartment number and told me where the buses were leaving from, which would be my next ride.

I made my way towards where the buses would be and noticed a ton of other people heading in the same direction. I stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone was dressed in all white Sea Org uniforms and I had on a button down long sleeve shirt and a pair of dress pants with black loafers. A few people asked me who the hell I was. I explained that I had just arrived and was looking to get to the buses.

“You’re heading in the right direction. We’re almost there,” one guy said as we walked toward the buses. He told me that he knew who I was and that I was supposed to stay in his dorm. His name was Tom Pope. He told me that Jesse Radstrom was in the same dorm and that was how he knew me.

We got to the buses. Three old white school buses were lined up and had herds of people climbing onto each. He motioned to me that we needed to get on the last one.