Ex-Scientologist story #209, RPF members locked in basement.


In 1974 Ann Bailey joined Scientology, soon after she became part of the paramilitary sales farce that was, at that time, operating under Hubbard’s direct control.  This was a decision that she would regret.  The following are excerpts from her story that was entered into evidence in the Clearwater Hemings of 1982.  Her first job in the Sea Org was to work on the ship Excalibur.  Life in Hubbard’s bathtub navy was harsh and the rewards few as she soon found out.

I was told this was necessary as in those days all OT and security materials were on the ships, not on land.  I was told point blank if there ever was a raid on the ship, the deck project force had to know how to run her and be prepared to take her right out to sea beyond the 200 mile limit of the U.S. Coast Guard and into international waters.  I was told to address all officers as sir and to obey all orders instantaneously.  I was led to believe if I got through this training, I would be under total protection of the Sea Org and would have achieved profound realizations about life and death.

I was then shown to my quarters.  These were located in the bottom deck of the ship and were narrow canvas berths six to a wall.  I soon learned that the officers controlled the eight switches.  At 11:00 p.m. all lights in the DPF berthing were turned off.  If you had to work late, you worked in the dark.  I recall that first night asking for sheets and blankets and being told the DPF did not receive any.  My berth happened to be right next to the ventilator and cold air blew on me all night.  I learned to sleep fully clothed so as not to catch cold.

A typical day that first week went like this.  At 6:00 a.m. bugles blowing through the intercom woke us up.  You had ten minutes to be dressed and on the dock at 6:45 for exercises.  From 6:45 till 7:15 the drill commander put us through the mill with no adequate warm up.  If you complained you were sent to the Ethics Officer.  From 7:15 till 8:00 were cleaning stations.  Mine was to white glove the entire fan tail.  You had to get a pass or no breakfast.  Breakfast was from 8:00 to 8:15.  The meal was bread and water.  The DPF had to eat on the dock by the garbage bins.  Any officer could take a dislike to you.  The third mate hated me.  His trick was to inspect my cleaning station at 7:55 and then purposefully dump a bucket of oil on the white deck and give me a flunk.  No breakfast and I had until 8:15 to clean it up or go to ethics.  I would get so angry I would always manage to clean the oil up by 8:15 and that made the third mate hate me even more. . .

I had been making it through all the above actions and during my third week on the ship, I and a group of five others were told we had been selected for a special mission.  We were told to be up at 5:30 the next morning and on the dock.  The VW bus was there and we were driven to the Hollywood Inn.  The Inn had a large main lobby and extending from that lobby was an enormous former dining room and kitchen.  These rooms had not been touched since the Inn had been sold to the Church.  The dining room had been used as a dumping ground for all kinds of junk and the kitchen and pantry were filled with thousands of dirty dishes left for over a year.  The six of us were told we had twelve hours to transform the entire place into a dining room and workable kitchen for FOLO executives.  If we made it we would receive a special citation from Hubbard.  If we didn’t make it we would not be Sea Org material.  The next twelve hours were unbelievable.  I have never worked so hard or fast in all my life.  Washing dishes so filthy, I had to use straight ammonia to get the mold out, lugging load after load of garbage and trash to the dump.  Setting up tables, waxing every single piece of oak wood in the room with beeswax.  Using water so hot that the skin on my hands blistered, cleaning all the small lead panes in the windows with a toothbrush, moving dining room furniture so heavy that all my muscles pulled out, into place, buying great bunches of flowers for the tables, hanging curtains, laying down a rug, etc.  We finished in eleven hours and fifteen minutes.  All the FOLO senior executives came in and gave us a standing ovation. All I remember is the room swirling around me and willing myself not to faint.  All six of us were absolutely exhausted, pushed to the point of numbness beyond belief.  We were driven back to the ship and allowed to sleep for two hours, before resuming the regular routine.  Two days later in a special ceremony the six of us were awarded gold certificates signed by Hubbard designating us as “Keyed-out OT’s”.  Looking back now the certificate should have read, “robot slaves”.  But we were already halfway brainwashed, under Hubbard’s control.

Soon she was back on land for good, at the Los Angles Org. but nothing had improved in her Scientology dominated life.  One day she saw something that caused her to deeply doubt Hubbard and Scientology.  She was walking in the basements under the Cedars Complex when she heard noises.

  Inhuman screaming and ranting.  It was coming from my right.  There were four doors and someone was pounding on one of them.  I ran over and tried to open the door.  It was locked.  I yelled, “Are you alright?”  I got more screams.  Suddenly someone touched my shoulder.  I turned and looked at a man in clean overalls.  “Hello”, he said.  “I’m the Ethics Officer for the RPF”.  “What are you doing to her?” I said.  “Oh she’s just blowing off charge.  When someone flips out on the RPF, we lock them up for a couple of hours.  They calm down after a while.”  He smiled.  I was stunned.  “You lock them up in here?” “Sure, you know the tech.  The tech always works.”  I looked at him.  Totally triumphant, with Scientology tech on his side.  I felt sick to my stomach, the corridor started spinning around me.  So this was it.  The final answer.  Cold, calculated, step by step — a progression to stamp out anyone who questioned, rebelled, criticized, disliked Scientology.  Break them, all of us.  You don’t agree, you make a mistake, you are a staff member and you flip out.  No mercy — just Scientology tech. 

Welcome to the wonderful world of L. Ron Hubbard.  To read the rest of her story go here: http://www.naderlibrary.com/cia.scientologyclearwater.exh67.htm

More on the Sea Org: 

Published in: on July 1, 2011 at 11:35 pm  Comments (2)  

Ex-Scientologist story #208, “desperate for a solid night’s sleep.”

Lisa Gibson joined her sister in joining Scientology, both would regret it as would their friends and family.  This relentless cash eating juggernaut swallowed them whole.  Like all of the stories in this series it is a cautionary tale about just how dangerous it is to get involved with the cult of Scientology.

It all started during the summer of 1973. My older sister Lavenda  called and asked me to come live with her in Las Vegas, when she picked me up at the airport she took me straight to Scientology in Las Vegas. I didn’t know she was in Scientology or what it was. They explained to me that they were trying to help the planet and being so young, 18, and idealistict, his sounded like a good idea, so I signed on.

To read her sister’s story go here: https://androvillans.wordpress.com/2011/04/27/ex-scientology-story-64-the-whole-thing-was-a-lie/

They put me in charge of the kids at the house and I started taking Scientology courses. I was curious about the TR’s (these are Training Routines famous for that staring look Scientologists have). When I asked why we had to sit there and not react while people screamed at us, cussing, etc.I was told that it was for toughening up so we could handle the public if they harassed us in any way. I learned later it was the beginning of mind control tactics and one of the maneuvers that rob people of their emotions and teach insensitivity to the feelings of others I met a lot of people who were genuinely trying their best to do their part to help the planet.

I also noticed that many of the Scientologists’ them seemed desperate for a solid night sleep. when I commented about that, I was told that people really don’t need more than 4 hours of sleep and I was introduced to another TR for keeping your body awake. I was given stacks of letters to write to people encouraging them to buy courses. This was the every night and I started dealing on 4 hours of sleep a night. I often cooked for about 40 people and it was usually a beans and rice kind of meal . . .

Anyway, back to 1973, while I was in the Las Vegas Org, I remember seeing two guys in black armbands scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush. I was told not to speak to them. I heard they also had to endure hours of auditing and verbal torture. They were being penalized for wrongdoing,being in Scientology’s RPF, and again I thought Oh God what have I gotten myself into now? Also,there was a young man named, Scott on staff. He was from a wealthy family and his parents were coming to make him leave. He was transferred out. I never saw him again.


Published in: on July 1, 2011 at 5:33 pm  Leave a Comment