Janis Gillham Grady has graciously sent us an excerpt from Commodore’s Messenger, the first of her three-part history in the Sea Org as a child. (Part three is coming.) And we were pretty happy that she sent along some great color photos — they’re black and white in the book. Still looking for a gift idea? Janis suggests you put her books under the tree!
On March 30, 1968, the Royal Scotman was assigned a condition of Liability. This was the start of the “Liability Cruise,” which lasted until April 25. The condition of Liability was assigned for having caused port flaps with the harbor officials in Valencia, and because our lack of training made us a Liability to ourselves and all aboard. The condition’s penalties included restriction to the ship (except for necessary shore business), everyone wore the gray rag tied on their left arm, signifying the condition, and amends. Sleep time was shortened to seven hours, from the end of the night to morning muster. Our penalties included rationed food and water, which also meant no showers. No one complained; instead, everyone went about their business, doing what was needed to get trained so the ship would be safe. Mary Sue and her three children, Quentin, Suzette and Arthur, received no special treatment. Diana, the oldest, was on the Avon River with her father. As a joke, a couple of deck hands (called deckies or deck apes) wrapped a grey rag around the smoke stack (funnel).
The Commodore set certain requirements that we needed to achieve before the ship could be upgraded out of Liability: Each crew member had to pass a full “Johannesburg Security-Check” known as a “Jo’burg,” an interrogation procedure Ron developed in Johannesburg, South Africa, designed to uncover crimes or personally discrediting information or secrets. The individual was asked such questions as, “Have you ever embezzled money?” “Have you smuggled diamonds?” (In 1961, diamond smuggling was prevalent.) Other questions included concerns such as interracial relationships, connection with communists, selling drugs, arson, bombing, murder, homosexuality, anything to do with pornography, sexual perversions, infidelity, blackmailing and kidnapping. Some crew actually confessed to criminal acts such as smuggling and drug running that could have led to prosecution.
Because I was only 11, I had never been security-checked (sec-checked) before. I figured I would be done pretty fast, as I did not even understand half the questions. During a security check, like an auditing session, you sit across from the interrogator who is watching the E-meter as well as your facial expressions while they read out the list of questions. Some Security-Checkers will ask the question and wait for an answer and watch what the E-meter needle does. Some Sec-Checkers just go down the list of questions and only expect an answer when they notice the needle move. My Sec-Checker, seeing E-meter needle movement on questions no 11-year-old should even know about, let alone have committed, kept repeating the questions to me, expecting me to come out with some story about smuggling or sexual escapades. The E-meter was reading because I did not understand the questions. To stop the needle from moving when the questions were asked, the Sec-Checker first made sure I understood what each of the questions meant. He embarrassingly explained the meaning of each question to me first, about homosexuality, pornography, infidelity, and various sexual perversions. After that, the needle movement ceased, and I flew through the security check.
We also needed to complete or restudy the Ships Org Book and the Able-Bodied Seaman courses developed by Mary Sue, as well as Staff Status I and II, which taught basic Scientology policies and how organizations were expected to operate. We did a lot of drills, then more drills and even more drills to really become proficient and build up teamwork and trust. We practiced docking the ship, and I practiced lowering heavy fenders over the side to help protect the ship from any damage that might occur when bumping against the dock. I performed this duty during the drills as we practiced docking alongside polylines (polypropylene) with floats on them in the ocean, since we did not have a real dock to practice on. We did all sorts of drills, including collision stations, fire drills, repelling boarders, lifeboat drills for abandoning ship, and more.
A Watch, Quarter and Station Bill (WQSB) board was compiled that assigned each crew member a job and station for all drills or possible situations in which we might have found ourselves. We were also assigned watches. Half the ship’s crew was placed on Port watch and the other half on Starboard watch, and no one could leave the ship if their watch was on duty. This allowed each watch to leave the ship so the ship was never left shorthanded in an emergency. For my sea watches, I was assigned as a lookout who watched for other ships or watched for land if we were at sea. As I spotted them, I called them down to the QM to record and for the Conning Officer. Our equipment was so old I talked into a brass tube which went directly down to the bridge, where my voice would come out on a brass horn.
The RSM crew repaired any non-working parts of the ship, such as the foghorn, which was not working because it was filled with water. One of the deckies executed the unpleasant task of climbing up, hanging from a cable and getting soaked in filthy water to fix it. He was not happy when he got back down, because he had been hanging from a cable and got covered in filthy water. There were many small things like this that just needed a little care.
The engine room was ordered to stay awake until all the pipes were color coded with paint, so the fresh water pipes could be distinguished from the salt water pipes, etc. It took them five days with no sleep. Terri, age 13, managed to get transferred from the galley to the engine room and was part of the team assigned to paint the pipes. After three days with no sleep, she tried sleeping as she lay on the pipes, 15 feet in the air, with a paint brush in her hand so it looked like she was painting. One of the snipes felt sorry for her and sent her to one of the engine room watertight compartments to take a nap. He promised to wake her if someone came by to check on them all because no one was allowed to sleep until the job was done.
Candy Chaleff, having just completed her auditor training up to Class VI at St. Hill, arrived at the AO Alicante as a volunteer at the request of Mary Sue, while Candy’s new husband completed his Special Briefing Course at St. Hill. Within days, Candy was instructed to board the dusty bus that transported the AO sea-trained officers and crew back to the Royal Scotman. They arrived on the ship in Burriana later that night from Alicante, just as the Liability Cruise kicked off. A tutor was needed for us few remaining children to continue our schooling. To accomplish this, Mary Sue offered Candy two choices: Sign the Sea Org contract if she wanted to remain on the ship and be our tutor while she waited for her husband, or head down the gangway with the possibility of never seeing her new husband again.
With Candy as our new tutor, we received schooling three hours a day. Candy felt it was not right to keep children restricted to the ship and asked permission from Mary Sue to take us along with Suzette and Arthur (who had their own tutor) into town while the ship was fueling. I really liked going ashore, especially since I had not been anywhere except the docks for the last eight weeks. During our excursion into town, we were introduced to Spanish public bathrooms that offered a hole in the ground, and also enjoyed swimming at the beach. Back at the ship, Suzette and I wanted to take fresh water showers to wash off the salt, so we approached Mary Sue and told her we were freezing cold from the swim. She gave us permission to take hot baths to warm up. Due to water restrictions on the ship, we were only allowed to have a bath in three inches of water. Nevertheless, I did not know that a bath could ever feel so good, especially at the age of 11.
Our crew needed fresh food, so Robin Peglar, the purchaser, had to solve that because we were not dockside. Lifeboat #8 took him ashore, but he missed the last ride on it back to the ship. To return, he hitched a ride with the local pilot boat that was heading out anyway to pilot us out. Robin loaded up the food and came out to us at anchor. He tried to keep his balance as he stood on the deck of this small pilot craft that was pitching heavily up and down, while throwing the food stores to receiving crew. The stores party receivers stood inside the cattle door, about four feet above water level. As the pilot boat pitched in the waves, Robin’s food arrived at different heights. A frozen chicken hit one crew member on his head. Over the years, I watched many food stores go into the deep to feed King Neptune. Once the stores were aboard, Robin could not jump aboard from the pitching boat because he had a leg injury and walked with a limp. He and the pilot had the good sense to avoid the dangers of the little pilot boat getting caught under the Royal Scotman’s rubbing strake and capsizing. They motored to the port side of the aft well deck where the crane reached away from the dangers of the ship and was lowered to bring Robin aboard.
Captain Bill Robertson was responsible for teaching the ship’s officers, who also performed the functions of Officers of the Deck (OOD) and Conning Officer celestial navigation. This included Mary Sue, the inexperienced captain who depended heavily on Captain Bill, John O’Keefe and Ron Pook. One day, Captain Bill decided to drill the crew on lowering the lifeboats, unhooking and rowing them, and hooking them back up to the ship. He also wanted to give them some “mission” experience by giving specific targets each boat was to achieve.
Three lifeboats, each with a crew of about ten people, were lowered. Baron Berez was in charge on my boat, called “Baby One.” Dusty Rhodes was the coxswain, and my Dad an oarsman, along with Fred Hare, Sue Pomeroy, Sylvia Calhoun and a few others with whom I became good friends over the months. Since I was the smallest and youngest person on the boat, I was given the job of radio in-charge and communicated by walkie-talkie to the other boats and to the Royal Scotman, which we called “Mama” when trying to reach them by radio. One of the other two lifeboats was led by Neville Chamberlain, with Terri as radio in-charge. The third was led by Otto Roos, with James Byrne as coxswain, and Claire Popham as the radio in-charge. Claire was in between Terri and me in age.
Each lifeboat was assigned a “mission” such as drawing the shoreline, pulling a sample of seaweed off the seabed floor, or using a lead weight with wax to get an impression of what was on the floor of the sea. Meanwhile, no one who planned this mission had paid any attention to the tides, the wind conditions or the movement of the barometer. Mary Sue gave us direct instructions to be back by noon.
The fact that we were clueless about nautical conditions became obvious when we had completed our mission target and tried to return our lifeboats to the ship. The oarsmen, no matter how hard they rowed, made no progress back to the ship because the tide was going in the opposite direction and the winds were strong. With so few people on them, the boats were sitting high in the water. We lost radio contact lost with Mama, so the radio calls went among the three lifeboats. After making no progress, we gave up fighting the wind and tide and rode the current and wind into the shore, where we landed in a sandy, deserted cove.
We secured our lifeboats at the beach. It was now past lunchtime, and we were hungry. We raided the lifeboat emergency supplies, eating barley sugar and stale crackers to hold us over. The emergency rations in these lifeboats were many years too old, one of the shortcomings that the Royal Scotsman had been cited for by British authorities before the Commodore “skipped town” with the ship.
A group of local citizens gathered to gawk at us, especially at the bold foreign women who not only dared to venture out with their men in boats, but shamelessly wore pants! A few locals from the small fishing village, who had never seen anyone from the outside world, dared to wander down to the beach to see what was going on. Amazingly, they went home to fetch us some fresh water to drink.
Soon, armed members of the Guardia Civil (Spanish Civil Guard and Spain’s oldest law enforcement agency) arrived at our little beach huddle. The half-dozen policemen on the beach with our group seemed bewildered by our group of “extranjeros” (foreigners) who had suddenly landed on their shores. The Guardia accused us of illegally entering Spain and placed us under arrest.
Had our crew washed ashore on a tropical beach in a democratic country, we would have just risen to the challenge of fending for ourselves to find food and water until the tide went out and we could return to our ship, but we had landed in hostile territory whose rules and suspicions of us changed everything.
Dictator Francisco Franco Bahamonde, “Franco,” had ruled Spain with an authoritarianism more like Nazi Germany than the democratic Spain of the 21 st century. Franco’s rule commanded strict conservatism, which stated that the women’s place was in the home, not working. The military and the Catholic Church enforced this traditional role of women in society; all cultural activities were subject to censorship and many were forbidden. Women were expected to dress modestly and wear dresses, not pants. They could not testify in courts and could not have bank accounts unless they were co-signed by a father or husband. A fleeing woman could be arrested for “abandoning the home.” In 1968, we were only 20 years outside of the post-World War II era.
By the end of WW II, Spain was ostracized by the world community for having been allies with the Axis powers (Germany, Italy and Japan); they were even further scorned because of maintaining such a strict dictatorship amidst all of the fledgling democracies throughout Western Europe. In 1946, the United Nations (UN) Security Council declared Franco's government declared “Fascist.”
There were about 30 of us now stranded in this Fascist country, under armed guard, with no passports and no pocket change. We tried to explain what had happened using made-up sign language since no one spoke Spanish, but the Guardia were not interested.
Candy and Joan tried to communicate in broken Spanish, but that did not help. Neither did the fact that all our female crew wore pants, rowed and hauled lifeboats and mingled with the men. With no alternative but to sit and wait out the tide, we played leap frog and napped on the shore. Claire and I started to go exploring, but the Guardia Civil shouted from above “Alto!” to stop us. She and I halted at the top of the steps and saw a gun pointed directly at us, aimed by a young member of the Guardia Civil, who was sweating in his khaki uniform under the hot Spanish sun. He marched us down the road at gun point. I looked back down at the beach, where our lifeboats lay stranded and our crew clustered in small groups scattered along the beach.
Meanwhile, the Royal Scotman sat out at anchor, out of radio reach on our small walkie-talkies; it may as well have been on the moon. Captain Bill had no idea why we had gone off our mission
orders or had landed on the beach. He started sending Morse code flashes, ordering us to return immediately. We had no equipment with which to respond—another violation of sea standards for lifeboats.
While the winds continued to pick up with a storm brewing, we watched the Royal Scotman pick up anchor and sail off! With no protection from the incoming storm, the ship had been dragging anchor. Captain Mary Sue and the crew sailed out of view to the other side of the bay for protection from the heavy winds. This is not a comforting sight when you are 11 years old, under armed guard in a strange country. At least Dad and Terri were with me. As the sun set and we lost the heat of the day, we found ourselves huddling together for warmth. Nothing had changed since we got stranded here—we had no money, and we had eaten the stale emergency stores in all three lifeboats. When the Policia talked to us, no one understood them. I kept hearing the word “commandante,” and we assumed they had instructions about what to do with us from someone higher up.
At nightfall, we had no flashlights and were not allowed to start a camp fire. The Commandant of the Guardia Civil ordered us escorted down the beach to the road, where two old metal-sided trucks waited. They loaded us onto the vehicles under the direction of armed guards. With no ability to communicate with the guards, we had no idea where they were taking us.
After about half an hour of driving in the cold of the night, the trucks stopped near a dock. The guards unloaded us from the trucks and corralled us onto a small, smelly fishing boat. We were not allowed on deck as we set out into the storm. James Byrne managed to make his way onto the bridge while the rest of us were kept below decks in a mess hall, also used for sleeping quarters, that smelled like diesel fuel and fish. I felt seasick and asked to go on deck, but was not allowed due to the high waves and strong winds. I lay down for a short bit while everyone else chatted and sang, until we heard yelling and screaming on deck.
The Spanish fishing boat had arrived at the Royal Scotman. The RSM’s cattle door on the starboard side was opened to receive us, but the waves were too rough to allow us to safely move closer to the ship. James, on the fishing boat bridge, yelled to the fishing boat captain to get closer. The captain refused, and he was rightly concerned that his boat might catch under the Royal Scotman’s rubbing strake, causing it to capsize.
James intended to get us back on board the Royal Scotman and did not care about much else—including how, if we all went back aboard, we were to retrieve the lifeboats still on the beach. Amidst the yelling, the captain ignored James, turned the fishing boat around and headed back to shore. Meanwhile, my seasickness was worsening from having to stay in the confines of the small cabin that smelled of dead fish and diesel fuel with no fresh air. I fell asleep, only to wake up and barf the stale emergency store crackers and barley sugar all over Sue Pomeroy’s feet. The vomit smell did not help anyone else in the cabin feel any better, either. I was finally allowed to go out on deck while Sue cleaned up my mess from her feet and the cabin.
Despite being a stranger in a strange land and back on Spanish shores, it felt good to be back on land, whether I was in danger and hungry or not. Now past midnight, the Guardia Civil still had 30 illegals on their hands. Under guard, we were taken to a restaurant that had closed for the season. We were allowed to lie down on the stone-cold floor or sleep in chairs with our heads on the tables. At sunrise, a bus pulled up to transport us back to our lifeboats.
The sea tide had gone out during the night, so our lifeboats were stranded about 50 feet up on the beach. We had to dig them out of the sand and heave them back down to the water. This was not an easy task, since the boats were made of wood. The women could barely lift one of the heavy oars; I certainly could not. I mainly watched, staying away from the efforts to dig out the boats. With a herculean amount of digging, pushing and heaving, each team managed to launch its boat back into the water. The race was on to see which lifeboat arrived back to the Royal Scotman first.
Our Baby One lifeboat arrived first. We pulled up alongside the ship, hooked up to the davits, and were heaved up. Upon reaching the prom deck to unload, Baron, as the mission in-charge for our boat, saluted Mary Sue. He pointed out that it was only 11:10 AM and we had made it back before noon—as she had not said noon of which day we were to return.
With no information about what had happened, Mary Sue had been worried sick for us. She seemed overjoyed at our safe return, and ordered us to the dining room to be fed.
The locals sent a boat out to visit our ship and to ensure we were leaving the area. Their representative said they thought we were Russian spies. Mary Sue talked with them through a translator and served them tea and biscuits while explaining that we were mostly Americans who were merely doing a cruise in the process of making a movie. This explained why there were rags on people’s arms and some with chains around their wrists. Anyone who wore a chain on their left wrist represented their being in a condition of Doubt.
— Janis Gillham Grady
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Jon Atack and Karen de la Carriere
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“You should have things which are motion sources in there. The level of truth of that universe ought to be good. You would BE faith in that universe; or your mock-ups, as far as faith is concerned, you would probably rely on a mock-up a heck of a lot quicker than you’d ever rely on a piece of MEST. I mean that seriously. You’d just rely on the mock-up. That’s not bad; if you can create a Cadillac which can outrun Cadillacs, I think you’d depend upon your Cadillac. Get the idea? But if you were really up at the top of the mock-up curve, you’ve made a Cadillac, you would drive your Cadillac much in preference to a Cadillac. You get the idea? It sounds strange, it sounds peculiar, but if you were doing that, and you really set out to make a Cadillac, yours would be a better Cadillac, for you.” — L. Ron Hubbard, December 11, 1952
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“I’ve decided to release OT VII when SMERSH is vanquished and things are safe for Scientology over the world.” — The Commodore, December 11, 1968
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“Ron’s knowledge accurately blasts big holes in Darwin, yet Darwin is miles above ‘Jesus on a dinosaur’ theories.”
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1999: Heise web site reports that Windows 2000 may be banned in Germany because of the Scientologist-owned company that produces a part of the package. “A component of Windows 2000 is made by a Scientology company. The defragmentation program Diskeeper will be released to the market in February as an integrated part of the NT successor. The program was developed by Executive Software, a company led by and belonging to the admitted Scientologist Craig Jensen. The connection between Scientology and the software giant is a thorn in the flesh of sect observers from the large churches. ‘This will be of interest not only for the Catholic church, but also for the German states, the Verfassungsschutz (federal agency in charge of protecting the constitution) and the German industry’, commented Harald Baer, a German Catholic church representative for sects, to the German press agency dpa. According to Ursula Caberta, head of the Scientology task force at the Hamburg office for internal affairs, Executive Software is one of the leading companies of the Scientology organisation WISE (World Institute of Scientology Enterprises). ‘WISE is the decisive part of Scientology for infiltrating and spying on the economy’, she says. The German states Bavaria and Hamburg have passed government policies which forbid agencies – particularly those in the area of information technologies – from purchasing services from Scientology companies.”
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“Thing is he knows that if Lou called up a restaurant or a movie theater and said ‘Mr. Miscavige would like to visit your establishment, could you please close for the evening to accommodate this,’ they would respond ‘Who?’ His frail ego couldn’t handle this. That’s why the only time he goes out is when he’s with Cruise.”
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Full Court Press: What we’re watching at the Underground Bunker
Criminal prosecutions:
— Danny Masterson charged for raping three women: Next hearing set for February 8. Trial scheduled for August 29, 2022.
— ‘Lafayette Ronald Hubbard’ (a/k/a Justin Craig), false imprisonment, aggravated assault, plus drug charges: Next hearing scheduled for December 21.
— Jay and Jeff Spina, Medicare fraud: Jay sentenced to 9 years in prison. Jeff’s sentencing to be scheduled.
— Hanan and Rizza Islam and other family members, Medi-Cal fraud: Pretrial conference December 17 in Los Angeles
— David Gentile, GPB Capital, fraud: Next pretrial conference set for February 11.
— Joseph ‘Ben’ Barton, Medicare fraud: Pleaded guilty, awaiting sentencing.
Civil litigation:
— Luis and Rocio Garcia v. Scientology: Eleventh Circuit affirmed ruling granting Scientology’s motion for arbitration. Garcias considering next move.
— Valerie Haney v. Scientology: Forced to ‘religious arbitration.’ US Supreme Court denied Valerie’s petition Oct 4.
— Chrissie Bixler et al. v. Scientology and Danny Masterson: California Supreme Court granted review on May 26 and asked the Second Appellate Division to direct Judge Steven Kleifield to show cause why he granted Scientology’s motion for arbitration. Oral arguments held November 2, awaiting a ruling.
— Matt and Kathy Feschbach tax debt: Eleventh Circuit ruled on Sept 9, 2020 that Feshbachs can’t discharge IRS debt in bankruptcy. Dec 17: Feshbachs sign court judgment obliging them to pay entire $3.674 million tax debt, plus interest from Nov 19.
— Brian Statler Sr v. City of Inglewood: Third amended complaint filed, trial set for June 28, 2022.
— Author Steve Cannane defamation trial: Trial concluded, Cannane victorious, awarded court costs. Case appealed on Dec 23. Appeal hearing held Aug 23-27. Awaiting a ruling.
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THE PROSECUTION OF DANNY MASTERSON
We first broke the news of the LAPD’s investigation of Scientology celebrity Danny Masterson on rape allegations in 2017, and we’ve been covering the story every step of the way since then. At this page we’ve collected our most important links, including our four days in Los Angeles covering the preliminary hearing and its ruling, which has Danny facing trial and the potential sentence of 45 years to life in prison.
After the success of their double-Emmy-winning, three-season A&E series ‘Scientology and the Aftermath,’ Leah Remini and Mike Rinder continue the conversation on their podcast, ‘Scientology: Fair Game.’ We’ve created a landing page where you can hear all of the episodes so far.
LEAH REMINI: SCIENTOLOGY AND THE AFTERMATH
An episode-by-episode guide to Leah Remini’s three-season, double-Emmy winning series that changed everything for Scientology watching. Originally aired from 2016 to 2019 on the A&E network, and now on Netflix.
SCIENTOLOGY’S CELEBRITIES, from A to Z
Find your favorite Hubbardite celeb at this index page — or suggest someone to add to the list!
Other links: SCIENTOLOGY BLACK OPS: Tom Cruise and dirty tricks. Scientology’s Ideal Orgs, from one end of the planet to the other. Scientology’s sneaky front groups, spreading the good news about L. Ron Hubbard while pretending to benefit society. Scientology Lit: Books reviewed or excerpted in a weekly series. How many have you read?
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THE WHOLE TRACK
[ONE year ago] VALERIE HANEY DENIED AGAIN: State supreme court won’t hear case
[TWO years ago] LEAH REMINI: ‘Jackie Lacey, you have forgotten what side you are on’
[THREE years ago] Tonight, Leah Remini examines her own role in the bizarre Scientology – Nation of Islam dance
[FOUR years ago] DOX: An inside look at how Scientology gets what it wants at ‘Ideal Org’ events
[FIVE years ago] Scientology: Not very effective in Washington politics, but it tries, tries again
[SIX years ago] Jon Atack: Scientology’s notion of ‘case gain,’ and how it reinforces the prison of belief
[SEVEN years ago] The questioner: Scientology brings in its legal ringer for a Florida showdown
[EIGHT years ago] TEXAS SKIRMISH: Mike Bennitt is on the scene as Monique Rathbun’s lawsuit is back in court
[NINE years ago] Speaking of Scientology Rap, Did Someone Mention CHILL E.B.?
[TEN years ago] Scientology Sunday Funnies: Learn PR from the Sea Org!
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Bernie Headley (1952-2019) did not see his daughter Stephanie in his final 5,667 days.
Valerie Haney has not seen her mother Lynne in 2,511 days.
Katrina Reyes has not seen her mother Yelena in 3,016 days
Sylvia Wagner DeWall has not seen her brother Randy in 2,536 days.
Brian Sheen has not seen his grandson Leo in 1,556 days.
Geoff Levin has not seen his son Collin and daughter Savannah in 1,447 days.
Christie Collbran has not seen her mother Liz King in 4,754 days.
Clarissa Adams has not seen her parents Walter and Irmin Huber in 2,622 days.
Carol Nyburg has not seen her daughter Nancy in 3,396 days.
Doug Kramer has not seen his parents Linda and Norm in 1,727 days.
Jamie Sorrentini Lugli has not seen her father Irving in 4,200 days.
Quailynn McDaniel has not seen her brother Sean in 3,516 days.
Dylan Gill has not seen his father Russell in 12,082 days.
Melissa Paris has not seen her father Jean-Francois in 8,001 days.
Valeska Paris has not seen her brother Raphael in 4,169 days.
Mirriam Francis has not seen her brother Ben in 3,750 days.
Claudio and Renata Lugli have not seen their son Flavio in 4,011 days.
Sara Goldberg has not seen her daughter Ashley in 3,047 days.
Lori Hodgson has not seen her son Jeremy and daughter Jessica in 2,762 days.
Marie Bilheimer has not seen her mother June in 2,287 days.
Julian Wain has not seen his brother Joseph or mother Susan in 642 days.
Charley Updegrove has not seen his son Toby in 1,817 days.
Joe Reaiche has not seen his daughter Alanna Masterson in 6,368 days
Derek Bloch has not seen his father Darren in 3,517 days.
Cindy Plahuta has not seen her daughter Kara in 3,837 days.
Roger Weller has not seen his daughter Alyssa in 8,692 days.
Claire Headley has not seen her mother Gen in 3,811 days.
Ramana Dienes-Browning has not seen her mother Jancis in 2,167 days.
Mike Rinder has not seen his son Benjamin and daughter Taryn in 6,470 days.
Brian Sheen has not seen his daughter Spring in 2,576 days.
Skip Young has not seen his daughters Megan and Alexis in 2,974 days.
Mary Kahn has not seen her son Sammy in 2,850 days.
Lois Reisdorf has not seen her son Craig in 2,433 days.
Phil and Willie Jones have not seen their son Mike and daughter Emily in 2,928 days.
Mary Jane Barry has not seen her daughter Samantha in 3,182 days.
Kate Bornstein has not seen her daughter Jessica in 14,291 days.
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Posted by Tony Ortega on December 11, 2021 at 07:00
E-mail tips to tonyo94 AT gmail DOT com or follow us on Twitter. We also post updates at our Facebook author page. After every new story we send out an alert to our e-mail list and our FB page.
Our new book with Paulette Cooper, Battlefield Scientology: Exposing L. Ron Hubbard’s dangerous ‘religion’ is now on sale at Amazon in paperback and Kindle formats. Our book about Paulette, The Unbreakable Miss Lovely: How the Church of Scientology tried to destroy Paulette Cooper, is on sale at Amazon in paperback, Kindle, and audiobook versions. We’ve posted photographs of Paulette and scenes from her life at a separate location. Reader Sookie put together a complete index. More information can also be found at the book’s dedicated page.
The Best of the Underground Bunker, 1995-2020 Just starting out here? We’ve picked out the most important stories we’ve covered here at the Underground Bunker (2012-2020), The Village Voice (2008-2012), New Times Los Angeles (1999-2002) and the Phoenix New Times (1995-1999)
Other links: BLOGGING DIANETICS: Reading Scientology’s founding text cover to cover | UP THE BRIDGE: Claire Headley and Bruce Hines train us as Scientologists | GETTING OUR ETHICS IN: Jefferson Hawkins explains Scientology’s system of justice | SCIENTOLOGY MYTHBUSTING: Historian Jon Atack discusses key Scientology concepts | Shelly Miscavige, 15 years gone | The Lisa McPherson story told in real time | The Cathriona White stories | The Leah Remini ‘Knowledge Reports’ | Hear audio of a Scientology excommunication | Scientology’s little day care of horrors | Whatever happened to Steve Fishman? | Felony charges for Scientology’s drug rehab scam | Why Scientology digs bomb-proof vaults in the desert | PZ Myers reads L. Ron Hubbard’s “A History of Man” | Scientology’s Master Spies | The mystery of the richest Scientologist and his wayward sons | Scientology’s shocking mistreatment of the mentally ill | The Underground Bunker’s Official Theme Song | The Underground Bunker FAQ
Watch our short videos that explain Scientology’s controversies in three minutes or less…
Check your whale level at our dedicated page for status updates, or join us at the Underground Bunker’s Facebook discussion group for more frivolity.
Our non-Scientology stories: Robert Burnham Jr., the man who inscribed the universe | Notorious alt-right inspiration Kevin MacDonald and his theories about Jewish DNA | The selling of the “Phoenix Lights” | Astronomer Harlow Shapley‘s FBI file | Sex, spies, and local TV news | Battling Babe-Hounds: Ross Jeffries v. R. Don Steele
Tony Ortega at The Daily Beast
