Mick Wenlock died last week at the age of 70. His name did not show up here at the Underground Bunker very often, but we had communicated with him years ago and we admired him for starting one of the early online meeting places for former Scientology Sea Org escapees, the XSO Yahoo message group.
We thought the best way to remember Mick would be to republish the gripping story he told in 2007 about what it was like to be a vital member of Scientology’s Sea Org and then, suddenly, to be dumped on the street by this paranoid organization. Although many people have found themselves in that situation, few have told it as well as Mick did. Here then is his great tale, edited down a little for length, and with some explanatory notes in brackets.
Late in 1982 I was declared by the Finance Police. One minute, in the Sea Org in Copenhagen, the next out on the street. No money and in a country where I do not speak the language at all well and where the only people I knew were Scientologists and Sea Org members.
My wife and I had been married for four years at that point. She was still in, we had one son (Sean) who was (and still is) handicapped, and my wife’s son Chris from her first marriage. Sean was 3, Chris was 7.
Lacking anything else to do, I made my way back home to England, got myself a job and wrote in requesting the Comm Ev [“Committee of Evidence,” Scientology’s ersatz court martial procedure]. After two months, in January 1983 I got a phone call from FOLO EU [Flag Operations Liaison Office, Europe] telling me that my wife was at Flag, on the RPF as it turns out, [the Flag Land Base in Clearwater, Florida, on the Rehabilitation Project Force, the Sea Org’s prison detail] and I needed to come to Copenhagen and pick up the children.
At that time, I was determined to get back to the Sea Org. I wanted my Comm Ev because I felt that I had been unjustly treated. I couldn’t very well unload my upset on my family because if I got them upset at Scientology and the Sea Org then how would I be able to get back? I didn’t know what was going to happen to my marriage, I was worried about Sean – and to a lesser extent Chris. (Chris’ father was in the Sea Org in Copenhagen at the time). I was working flat out in a Cold Storage Unit trying to earn money to pay back people who had advanced me the readies to get home. My friends did not understand, at all, what had happened.
And now this. I got what money I could together and bought a ticket on the ferry from Felixstowe to Gothenberg and a train ticket from Gothenberg to Copenhagen and I set off the next day. The ferry left Felixstowe at 5 pm, it was raining, it was dark and it was cold. I had one backpack of clothes and supplies and about one hundred dollars in cash. I had no idea what I was going to do in Copenhagen, I had no idea how I was going to live or where, I had no one to turn to when I got there. Not a pleasant journey.
I phoned to the FOLO when I arrived in Copenhagen to talk to the head nanny (name of Clara) and told her I had just arrived and I would be by to talk with her in about 10 minutes.
As anyone who has been in Copenhagen in early January at 7pm can tell you, it’s cold and windy and dark. I walked up to the front door of the Nordland and Clara was there with two children in tow. She opened the door, ushered Chris out, put two suitcases on the ground and handed me Sean (who had to be carried then, he was not yet walking). And then closed the door.
Holding Sean in one arm, holding Chris’ hand with the other and three large bags, nowhere to go, very little money and it was cold and dark.
Slowly we made our way along the street and along past the square and we came to a hotel. I checked us in, not a bad room (lousy price…) and I got us in there and found out that the boys had not had dinner, they were hungry, wet, and tired. Sean had no diapers. So we had to go out again and find a kiosk.
Over the next couple of days we moved around to ever cheaper places as my cash ran out and my flexible friend approached the limit. I am really at a loss how to describe those few days. Sean attended a state day center so at least for those few days his daily routine was uninterrupted, but Chris and I had nothing to do, no money to do it with, and I could not figure out how to try and get something done. We were staying at a sort of “pension” which was OK, but there were the three of us in one small room – the two boys in the bed and me on the floor.
Finally I was at an end – I had enough for one more night in the pension and then I was borassic. I went to social services in Copenhagen to get some help. It was hell. First of all they were trying to understand how we were in the position we were in. I was desperately trying to avoid bringing the word “Scientology” into the conversation. I was trying very, very hard to not make the Church of Scientology look bad. After three hours I got them to pay our rent at the pension for a week, which at least meant I could start looking further ahead than the next morning.
One day Chris and I were walking down a street not far from Vesterbrogade and I saw an old friend – Ivan Watson. Ex-Sea Org from NEP. He and his daughter Rosie were living in an apartment not far away, so we all toodled over there and for the first time in a couple of weeks I was able to relax. Ivan had a friend who he reckoned would be willing to rent out a room to the three of us and, better yet, Nellie Purser (wife of Russ Purser) who was also out of the Sea Org was working at a hotel and could help me land a job.
We sat down in Ivan’s apartment drinking tea – even now I find it hard to describe how great it felt to just do something normal. Chris and Rosie played, and Ivan and I talked. He phoned his ex-brother-in-law and that guy agreed to rent a room in his apartment to us. I have not mentioned the guy’s name even though he is an “ex” because he still has family in. But I wish I could – he got a lot of s–t from the CofS for doing this, he never flinched. Typical Oz.
The apartment was on the 5th floor of a building not far from where the old FOLO building on Saxogade had been. No elevator, of course, and no bath or shower. One small room and not much in the way of furniture either. I got the social services to agree to buy a bed for Sean and for Chris, Ivan lent me a mattress, and the “guy” (who I will call “Malc” from here on out) agreed to let us use his cooking utensils for a couple of weeks until I could get some.
Bear in mind, when I got into Scientology and the Sea Org in 1976 I was a single guy, had a good paying job, and on the rare weeks where I had run out of food money it was because I had been on the batter too hard and I could live with that. Now I had two kids who needed to eat.
Nellie Purser called me the next evening and said that there was a job at the hotel she worked at cleaning the rooms. At that time in Denmark if you were not Danish then you had to be working 35 hours a week in a fulltime job in order to keep your visa.
I spent the next full day rearranging Sean’s transport to the kindergarten, getting Chris squared away back at his school, and then went over to the hotel to talk to the owner and got myself a job. The hotel was on three floors, no elevator. It was about four kilometers from where we lived and I had no bus fare.
I worked out the schedule in my head: Get Chris off to school, Sean ready for pick up and off to the CP Kindergarten (Bornehave in Danish), and then a fast walk/trot along the lakes to the hotel just in time to start work at 9 am. Five hours work and trot back to the apartment in time to pick Sean up and whisk him up the stairs.
In order to make the 35 hour minimum this meant I had to work seven days a week. On Saturday and Sunday I would carry Sean and walk with Chris, I would put them in a room that was being checked out and they would hang out there while I worked. Chris loved it – he got to watch TV!
It was an incredibly stressful period. After a month and a half of this I got a call from Chris’ father – Neil Lumsden (a very nice guy by the way). He said he wanted to drop by and just say hi. I thought it a little strange. He dropped by the apartment and told me that my wife, Nancy, had asked him to check up on the boys. Neil was lucky to leave the room in one piece. I was upset beyond belief – “check up”? No-one had given a flying **** about what was going to happen to the kids or to me and now “check up”? I told Neil to eff off and that, should he feel some paternal urge, he could set up a time for Chris to visit.
One thing to be said for the regimen – I was losing weight fast (and as anyone who knows me could attest – I can always stand to lose a few pounds). By the end of this period I weighed less than I did when I was 14 years old. Which would have been really great except I could not afford to buy new clothes.
But everything during this period was just so damned hard. I had to walk everywhere and that meant I had to carry Sean because I had no stroller. He spent that whole summer on my shoulders. When we went shopping early Saturday morning in the local discount supermarket I would have Sean on my shoulders, five or six plastic bags in my hands, and the walk up to the apartment was like scaling the North Face of the Eiger.
I had not been able to talk to my wife since I got declared in November. I found out that she had gone to Flag for a “few days” and had been RPFed there, I had no idea how she was doing. Turns out, of course, that she had been going through the same sort of mental anguish – while trying to graduate the RPF.
Anyway – in the middle of this Chris, Sean, and I started to sort of muddle through. Every night I told Chris stories, long involved fairy tales involving him and Sean, magic bears King Arthur etc. Once I figured out how to actually budget the food and we had gained a little traction it got to be a bit better – some of the summer evenings were fun.
I guess the best highlight was Chris’ birthday. His birthday is June 23rd. If you are Scandinavian that date really means something – Sankt Hans Aften. It is a huge day and evening in the Tivoli Gardens. Chris’ birthday was a Thursday that year. We all spent the day at Tivoli, I had put some money aside and we just pigged out, Chris got to go on the rides, we got to snack, and at closing time there was the most awesome fireworks display (as there is every year). It was just great. I think that was probably the night we laughed the most during that period until Nancy made it back.
Just after Chris’ birthday I got a call on Malc’s phone form the FOLO that the Comm Ev was meeting and wanted me to attend. I finally got to see in writing what the declare was about and what “charges” I was facing [a “declare” is a document that names someone a “suppressive person” or “SP,” an enemy of the church who is barred from communicating with other Scientologists]. It was the usual slew of “failing to keep Scientology working” and a bunch of stuff about financial irregularities, including such vast things as buying soap for personal use with Sea Org Mission funds. The actual Comm Ev was fine – I knew all the members, they knew me. It was not some huge trauma. The one thing that did irritate me almost beyond belief was the total indifference to my schedule or family. At one time they asked me to come at 11:00 PM for the next meeting. I arrived at the FOLO at 10:45 PM – having walked all the way of course and having persuaded Malc to keep an eye on the boys. At 11:15 I was told it was going to be a little later. the meeting finally took place at 1:45 in the morning. It went on until 2:45. It was nearly 4 when I got home. The Comm Ev had asked me to be there at 11:00 the next evening and I told them I would wait 15 minutes but if there was no meeting by 11:15 I was going to leave.
I have to say that I was tired most of the time. Sean had developed a habit of only sleeping with the light on, the physical side of things was an enormous strain after a while. It’s not that it was tough if I look back at one day, but it was relentless, day after day for five months. The Comm Ev and its schedule was very nearly too much.
The Comm Ev read the findings to me the next evening – almost on time as well. I pretty much figured that the recs were going to be to cancel the declare and it was just going to be a matter of time.
As I found out later my wife, Nancy, was being put through the PTS RD [Potential Trouble Source rundown, an interrogation to find out who was the source of her issues] at that time – with guess who as the subject.
So we waited it out. Until one night, around three in the morning the phone rang in the apartment and Malc came in to tell me it was Nancy on the phone.
Now THAT was a moment.
The phone call was, of course, the cancellation of the declare. Finally I got to talk to my wife – for the first time in nine months! We talked and talked – Nancy told me about the troubles she had gone through on the RPF, the insistence that she should realize that I was an SP, worrying about the children and so on.
Once I had talked with Nancy for an hour I was so pumped I could not go back to sleep. Strangely enough in a weird way I felt that the whole episode validated Scientology justice – after all, I had been declared in what I thought was merely a witch hunt but after due time and investigation the system came through. This was one of the main reasons I was willing to go back into the Sea Org.
Later that night I had received two phone calls from recruiters. Suddenly I was “persona grata” again. I could talk to people.
Six weeks later Nancy got back from Flag, we were still in the one room in Malc’s apartment, but things were looking up. Nancy and I talked about what to do next, she CSW’d for a LOA [a “Completed Staff Work” is a form submitted for approval to do something, such as taking a leave of absence, or LOA], so that we could get our act caught up, bills paid and so on. It was approved. Holy crap! I got a job working as a spray painter at Arne Hoyer’s company. Actually the contract was at the Carlsberg Brewery – free beer! Nancy and I got an apartment out in Norrebro. Not a bad place. Nancy got to try and cook. It was, for all of us, an exciting time.
Christmas came, friends came over from England, we had a rare old time.
Tom Woodruff from Int Finance came by to pay a visit. I was wanted back, I was needed back. I pointed out that I had bills to pay. No problem – he had the money to lend me to be paid off as and when – from the “LRH Birthday Fund.”
I was left with no objection and — I am kicking myself even now — I agreed to go back in the Sea Org. I never once thought to discuss it with Nancy. After all, the only reason we were out was because of my declare, and once all that was handled we were back in. I should have talked with her.
The time after my declare had been cancelled was an exciting and confusing time. Nancy came back from Flag having finally CSW’d and begged her way out of the Finance Network. For anyone who has been in the Sea Org will know that one of the most demeaning and annoying positions to be in is to be a “coin.” Nancy was Finance Staff but no longer qualified to be in Finance, that meant she was eligible to be swapped to replace a qualified staff member in some other unit. This is, of course, one of the dumbest things that the Sea Org does – among an entire list of dumb things..
But through it all she came home. By the time she got back I was no longer working at the hotel. Thanks to my “grata” status I now had the job at Hoyers (let me slip in a good word here for Arne Hoyer, truly a nice guy) and was on my way to becoming just one more person in the Danish “field.”
Then Tom W arrived and I was headed back into the Sea Org. FSC EU. Based in AOSH EU. This was the start of my second career in the Sea Org and, I have to say, it was pretty much an unmitigated disaster.
We basically moved back into the Nordland and went on post in the FSC Office. No re-orientation, no adjustment, no handling, nothing. Just on post. I am astounded, looking back on it, that I agreed to do this job. I absolutely HATE regging with a passion [“Registrars” or “regges” pressure members to pay money for courses, known as “regging”]. I hate sales and anything to do with it. Somehow someone “uplines” must have thought that as I had been a CO of AOSH EU I must have had some sort of ability in that area. Nope, none.
This was a job to which I was not suited. Once the “gee, I’m back” wow factor had dissipated it was just a grind.
Then came the “we want you to move to Flag to be D/CO Production FSO.”
Now, I had always thought that I would be good in that sort of job. I had been D/CO Prod EU back in the day and thought that I did fairly well at it. So I was on board with the idea. Plus – anything was better than sitting around in the FSC Office chasing money (it never occurred to me then that this is precisely what I would be doing at the FSO…). Nancy and I talked about it and the basic theory was – I would go over, Nancy would take over as FSC EU and get replaced and we would all meet up in Clearwater.
By early September I was on my way to LA where I was to get my Int Clearances and then it was off up the road.
I arrived in LA and there to meet me at Big Blue was Billy Lindstein – WDC FSO. A bit of a shock I have to say – I had last known Billy as CO Malmo. Anyway he was friendly and businesslike and it was a question of getting my Int Clearances and away we would go.
So I get to meet the RTC auditor who is going to do my sec check. I cannot remember her name but she was a pleasant enough person. Poor lady.
I had been declared back in 1982 by the Finance Police – part of the sec checking they had used involved having two different people shouting questions at me while one watched the meter and gave the reads out loud.
The day after I arrived at LA I went into session with the RTC auditor. The first auditing I had been in since the Finance Police.
It did not go well. She launched into the “I’m not auditing you” spiel and I launched into the “well you can just fuck off then” answer. I put the cans down. It was kind of funny in a way. She tried to persuade me to pick up the cans but, as I said to her – “If you are not auditing me, I am not interested in it. Period.” She did try various little ploys but she came up against one big roadblock that she could not overcome. “I’ve already been declared once, I survived that, I’ll survive this.”
I really didn’t a rat’s rear end any more.
We ended off at this point – she hadn’t started anything so I felt no need to go to an examiner and she seemed confused.
Anyway, I was doing my Int Clearances, I guess this is the middle of September 1984. and when I was not getting the auditing I was just hanging out. It was also during this time when, for some mysterious reason, Suzette Hubbard started chatting with me. To this day I have no idea whether she thought I was someone else or whether someone like Jens Uhrskov had told her I was amusing to talk to but from there on out we kept in touch.
And then Jens Uhrskov arrives to tell me that he and I are going on Mission. A mission so confidential that there are no written mission orders, it is going to be verbal briefing only.
I am fairly sure the date was around October 1, 1984. I was due to go to Int the next morning when Jens Uhrskov snagged me while I was yakking with Ian Cunningham. He told me that we were going on mission. I asked Jens for the mission orders and he told me that there was nothing in writing. We were going to be on our own.
He told me that the Church had just lost its appeal against the IRS ruling, that the case in Canada (which I knew nothing about of course) was going badly and it had been decided that an organization, parallel to the Church was going to be set up called the “International Association of Scientologists.” It would be totally separate from the church organizationally. He and I were going to help coordinate the selection and travel of delegates to some convention at Saint Hill and to set up to implement the new membership system in the church.
So he and I ended up coordinating the selection of “delegates,” most of whom, of course, were the DSA’s of their local org, arranging flights etc. Someone from the CMO mess brought our food to us from the dining room – supposedly this was so that we would not be being visibly supported by the church – seemed logical at the time, seems like bloody nonsense now of course.
We had to come up with costs of an annual membership and a lifetime membership. I did a couple of surveys around PAC and we came up with $300 and $2,000 as the prices. On the 9th we got told that the convention had been held so now it was “public” knowledge and now we had to work on setting up the kick off events.
Man, was that a zoo. We went into the ITO classrooms (I think it was the ITO) and extracted about 20 people to go to the orgs where the kick off events were going to be (New York, Flag, Copenhagen, Sydney, London, LA, Milan – don’t remember the rest) we had carte blanche on use of the phones. The phone bill musta been in the tens of thousands of dollars. We were on the phones continuously.
Mike Rinder was Vicki Aznaran’s Communicator back then – she told him to get me through the computer courses and Jesse Prince and Lyman Spurlock went and got someone from INCOMM to open up the courseroom at 2 am just for me.
It was very hectic. People were arriving from all over the place to be the tours regges for IAS. Janet Light arrived and I was introduced to my new boss – for a while she and I got on very well. She told me that the IMU was moving to Clearwater. It took me months to realize that this was because her kids and hubby, David Light, were in Clearwater and there was no way a major reg of the FSO was going to move to LA.
We moved to Clearwater at the end of November. not a very traumatic move as none of us had any big ties to LA or to PAC. We took over the ground floor of the Westcoast Building and, as Janet Light was the biggest CMO fish in the pond, we got very good treatment.
At this point there were a lot of things being thrown at us – those who still had HASI International Memberships for example were busy howling. And to be frank, by the policy of course they were totally right. But I had a bit of a hard time understanding the way we were supposed to be doing things.
As I understood it when we started:
1) The Church of Scientology faced imminent disaster in that we had lost the IRS case, the Canadian government was going to issue indictments after the Toronto raids, and there was the very real danger that the international management of the Church would be indicted leaving the way for a takeover. Including the reserves.
2) The IAS had been set up so that money could be put into a totally separate organization that could then use those funds to support a Scientology organization “from the outside.”
The first part was exactly what I was told by Aznaran, Yager, and Guillaume at different times. It wasn’t until much later that I realized the timeline actually did not support that assertion. The idea of the IAS had been bruited around by a Danish lawyer (Jacobson I think was his name) who worked with Carl Heldt at NEPI many months before the IRS case was decided.
When we got to Clearwater Carol Titus and I had been hounded about getting hatted on “fundraising” and “membership organizations” – the paradigm being used was the NRA, and Carol Titus joined the NRA so she would get all the literature and mailings and the magazine. We had to read several books on fund raising and Bertie and I had to come up with “levels” of donations, hence “Sponsor” and “Patron” both decided on at Bertie’s desk. We figured we would get maybe five or maybe 10 Patrons. Boy were we wrong – and the “wog” fundraisers totally right!
I also had to fly back out to LA to ASI to meet with RVY [Robert Vaughn Young] because I had to write almost the entirety of Impact Magazine and he gave me the “instant hat” so to speak.
If you have any of the first eight or so Impact magazines – with the exception of the Hubbard articles and quotes everything else was written by me.
In October 1985 I was busted and started working in the Div 6 with Deac Finn setting up events, something I hated. I screwed up the set ups for Toronto and got RPFed – and was happy to go. I was twinned with Mike Kehrli, truly one of my greatest friends and by and large we did OK.
I was out of the RPF Christmas 1986 and found myself further out of favor by refusing to reg a Flag public at 2 in the morning on a Thursday. In January I was told that my wife and I were being sent to the UK to be the UK Tour as our younger son could not come to the Freewinds. We arrived in the UK late January 87.
It was a miserable time, absolutely miserable. By August Nancy and I had decided we had to leave the Sea Org. We went to see the CO CMO there – Karen Mathieson. She talked with Janet Light and they asked if moving back to Scandinavia might be better. So we decided to try that. Things got much better, Sean was back at school in Aalborg – and loving it. I was based back at AOSH EU and liking that and we were back in Copenhagen the city that my wife and I love the best in the world.
But there was something rotten in the state of Denmark ( I have always wanted to slip that quote in).
I was amazed to find – as I travelled around the orgs that they were half the size (in most cases) they had been in 1981. Even Stockholm and DKD were puny. The field was apathetic and not functioning. I started doing FSM rallies and workshops to try and get new people coming into the orgs and that was fairly successful but, of course, that was not regging money for the IAS.
Peculiarly, Spain also fell under the control of the Scandinavian Tour. We decided to have a huge IAS event down there. Heber would be there, Janet Light, and it would be a big deal.
It certainly was. We were sitting down at lunch on the first day when the federales rolled in and all of the foreigners and some of the locals – about 80 of us , ended up in the hoosegow. Heber was the main focus of the attention – and yeah I know he has come in for some shit on here and in other forums but I can tell you that in that jail in Madrid the man was marvelous. He was calm, quiet and steadfast. Sad that his courage was wasted on such a miserable cause.
We all got questioned by some magistrate – for my questioning there was no translator into English so we had to make do in French. After two days some of us were transferred to a an extradition center where we waited for two or three days along with a lot of South Americans until we were suddenly dumped outside the door of the facility and had to take a taxi to the airport. It was champagne on the plane back.
When we got back to Scandinavia I started getting more info on what had happened to the field there – basically Flag regges and FSMs had been persuading people to take out huge (and I mean huge) loans for the L’s (“after all, when you get done with the L’s you’ll have no problem paying off this paltry loan”). They cosigned each others loans, lied about their income and so on. By the time we got there the Ponzi scheme was collapsing and some of the people involved were losing their jobs and some were facing jail time.
I refused to reg people. I falsified the income stat and just worked on trying to get FSMs to get new people in. Then I wrote it all up to DM and sent it in via telex.
And got declared – again. Eleven in the evening Nancy and I were out on the street – again. I had borrowed three hundred Swedish kronor from an old friend who happened to be in the Nordland that night so Nancy and I could find a hotel.
Second time around. Jesus H Christ you would think I would learn. But no.
After a couple of days we had no money, nowhere to stay, no friends, no family. Sean was away at school so he was OK, we had left Chris in the Sea Org under the care of some friends. We ended up spending one night in a homeless shelter. It was an awful time.
We got tickets to go up and visit Sean (something parents were entitled to do under the Danish system) and we flew to Aalborg and stayed in a visitors cottage. The school offered to help us out for a couple of weeks and we stayed up there, called my wife’s family in the US and borrowed a couple of hundred dollars from her sisters and gradually took out time to relax and to stop worrying.
We went back to Copenhagen, got jobs with SAS at one of the hotels, and just started out on trying to get by.
We eventually decided to go back to the US and we arrived in Denver on October 1st, 1990. And now we live out in the country on the eastern plains.
— Mick Wenlock
We knew that Mike Rinder admired Mick, and so we asked him for his thoughts.
I met Mick way back in the mid 70’s when we went on a Mission together to AOLA. Those three weeks created a friendship that spanned decades. Funny, warm-hearted, intensely loyal and not one to tolerate any bullshit, Mick was a man I enjoyed being with anywhere and any time. It didn’t hurt that I love England and English people generally, we talked soccer and Monty Python and politics. Unfortunately we never spent a lot of time together subsequent to that time, though when we would see each other it was always fun. He escaped the Sea Org long before I had the good sense to do so. After I left we got back in touch, and he was the same old Mick. I shall miss him. He was the very definition of a “good guy.” — Mike Rinder
As Mick Wenlock and Mike Rinder both illustrated by telling their stories, escaping from Scientology can be a challenge. If you’re thinking of getting out and are concerned about the transition, please consider contacting the Aftermath Foundation, where you can talk to former Scientologists who are there to help.
See the Proprietor in Los Angeles
Our last HowdyCon before the pandemic was held at CFI West in Los Angeles, and those of you who were there remember what a great venue it was.
CFI West’s James Underdown has asked us to return to the scene of that crime and give a talk about our coverage of Scientology, and specifically the adventure of covering the Danny Masterson trials.
Hey, if you’re in town this Sunday afternoon, come on by. We’d love to see you.
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I am saddened to hear of Mick’s passing. I never knew him personally while in the Sea Org, but since I left, he has always been a helpful and encouraging ex member. He has been great support over the years for me in some tough times.
Rest in peace.💜💜💜
Reading Mick’s story brought back memories of me leaving the SO from the Apollo ship in July 1974.
The nightmare for me was being on the RPF and knowing that I wanted to leave the SO. I was eventually asked by Hubbards personal public relations officer Laurel Watson if I wanted to be on the ship and I said “no”. That evening at 2 am I was roused from sleep and told I was leaving. We were in Madrid. I spent a night in Madrid and the next day I flew back to LA which is where my brother and friends were and where I had been working as a guitarist with Epic recording artist Jimmy Spheeris.
The insanity of being on that ship still gives me nightmares. Hubbard created an organization based on a military paradigm. Founded on the principles that Dianetics and Scientology produced saner more logical humans a cut above regular folk. What actually was happening was the opposite.
And the horrible, heartless treatment evidenced by Mick’s story is one of a thousand similar narratives. I did not know Mick. I certainly can relate to his experiences. Thank you Tony for memorializing another XSO pioneer.