My Nine Lives in Scientology by M. Pignotti 6/10 http://www.cs.cmu.edu/~dst/Library/Shelf/pignotti/ One might ask, if I was so aware of what was going on, then why did I stay? The truth was that I was just as indoctrinated as anyone else. I still believed very strongly in the purpose of Scientology and my cult identity was very strong; it was just that the healthy part of me had not yet been suppressed and, as a result, I felt an intense inner conflict between my real identity and my cult identity. Things continued to go downhill for me. One day, which happened to be my 21st birthday, I had the morning off (just a coincidence, we weren't given time off on our birthdays). Were were on the island of Tenerife, which is one of the Canary Islands owned by Spain, located off the coast of Africa. I went ashore to see the town and do some shopping. One of the things I most liked about being on the ship was getting to visit such exotic places. When I returned, I found out that I was in trouble. It seemed that my PC had a bad exam report and I was not supposed to have left the ship before handling the situation. I had to participate in a Kali ceremony. I can remember thinking to myself, "This is not how I ever expected to spend my 21st birthday, a time when most people are out celebrating being officially an adult." But then I chided myself for having such "wog" thoughts, reminding myself that I had chosen to live an extraordinary life with an extraordinary purpose -- that of Scientology. After the ceremony, I was sent to spend four hours in the crows nest. The crows nest was the equivalent of at least a four story building and I had to climb up a very narrow ladder to get there. I felt shame, guilt and a great deal of anger. While I was climbing, I had the thought, "All I have to do is let go of the ladder and that would be it? What if I just let go?" That thought really terrified me and I held on even tighter. I really didn't want to die. When I got up there, I was shaking all over. I was supposed to spend the four hours thinking about what I had done and writing up my overts and withholds. The view from up there was beautiful, but I was too upset to enjoy it. I was dreading the climb back down, but I got through it. Later that day, the ship sailed. It was a very rough trip and we were lost for three days in a storm. I got very seasick and stayed in my bunk the whole time, unable to get up, except to go to the bathroom. After a few futile attempts by Jeff Walker to get me out of bed, nobody bothered me because everyone else was either in the same condition or on watch. When we finally arrived, those of us who had been seasick were severely chastised. >From the first trip, I had been prone to seasickness if the sea was at all rough and had been told it was my fault I was seasick. Dramamine was made available to us, but if I took it I felt drowsy and spaced out, so I tried to avoid taking it. Besides, dramamine was a drug and taking any drugs, even over-the-counter ones was frowned upon in Scientology. I sat through many sessions with preclears turning green, not knowing if I was going to make it through the session. Somehow, I always managed to make it. I would end the session and make it to the bathroom just in time to avoid disaster. Although things continued to get worse for me, there was one bright spot for me: the friendship that was developing between Quentin Hubbard and myself. I got to know Quentin when we all did TRs together and sometimes he would be my partner. Quentin and I liked each other from the start. For one thing, we shared a sense of humor and that was unusual on the ship. We always found ways to make each other laugh in a place where there was so little joy and laughter. The RPF In November, 1973, Hubbard came up with an idea to handle troublemakers, backsliders or anyone else aboard who happened to displease him. He created the Rehabilitation Project Force (the "RPF"), the Sea Org's version of a prison camp. RPFers were to do hard physical labor all day and in the evenings were to audit one another to get off their overts and withholds and deal with their evil intentions. RPFers were not allowed to speak to a crew member in good standing, unless spoken to and had to wear black boiler suits. They were allowed to eat only after everyone else on the ship had finished and were not allowed to leave the ship. Hubbard considered RPFers to be psychotic criminals that should be grateful that he was giving them a chance to be rehabilitated. Isn't it strange that some of Scientology's top leaders today, including Pat Broeker and Norman Starkey have been on the RPF? Most Scientology executives have, at one time or another, been on the RPF. Once Hubbard had conceived of the RPF, he had his assistants go through PC folders of everyone on board, looking for a particular E-meter read, called a rockslam. Rockslams, according to Hubbard, indicated that the person had committed high crimes against Scientology and was, therefore, psychotic. Anyone with a rockslam recorded in his folder was a candidate for the RPF. We were also given a personality test called the OCA. Anyone with a low score could also be sent to the RPF. In addition to these people, anyone who was considered to have intentions contrary to that of the group could be sent to the RPF. I can remember one woman on Hubbard's personal household staff was sent to the RPF because he thought she was trying to poison him. Actually, she worshipped the man and would have sooner poisoned herself than him. People from the household unit were RPFed with great regularity. The closer a person was to LRH, the more likely they were to eventually be sent to the RPF. The whole process of deciding who was going to the RPF took about two months. During that time, everyone aboard was quaking in their boots. The air was thick with tension -- everyone was terrified at the prospect of going to the RPF. I was particularly worried because I had gotten into trouble so often. I knew my name would be on the list and I dreaded it, but I kept hoping that by some miracle I would not be on the list. On January 10, 1974, the list of people being sent to the RPF was finally released and, sure enough, I was on it, along with about 15 other people. We were awakened early that morning and shown the ethics order. I had been expecting it, but I was still in a state of shock that it had actually happened to me, as were other people on the list. I can remember one woman who had been on the list, immediately started packing her suitcase, saying she wasn't going to stay and stand for this, but she ended up staying. Another one of the people on that original list of RPFers was Norman Starkey, who currently holds a very high position in Scientology. The number of people in the RPF increased rapidly. It seemed that every day someone new was being "busted", as we liked to call it. There were several other auditors and interns on the RPF. It is difficult to describe the pain I felt that day. One moment, I would feel numb with shock and the next, I would burst into uncontrollable tears. The others in the RPF were going through the same thing and within a few days, we developed a common bond of empathy for one another. We had our own private RPF jokes and songs. This unity we felt, saved what little was left of our dignity and there was a strong agreement among us that we would stick together and pull each other through. What happened among us is a great tribute to the strength of the human spirit, although most of us wrongly attributed this positive unity to Hubbard and thanked him for inventing the RPF. Now I realize that that was about as ridiculous as it would be for a Jewish person who survived the holocaust to thank Hitler for inventing concentration camps. We got through this experience on the RPF in spite of Hubbard, not because of Hubbard. In a way, once we got over the initial shock, being on the RPF was a relief to most of us because there were no more threats about being sent to the RPF -- we were already there. We had hit bottom. When we were first assigned to the RPF, we were told we could contest it by requesting a Committee of Evidence, Scientology's version of a trial. I had requested such a committee and my close friend, Quentin Hubbard was assigned as Chairman of my committee and also the committee of Lisa Zanda, another friend of his. He had no choice but to find me guilty and uphold the decision that I remain on the RPF. No other verdict would have been considered acceptable. A few days later, Quentin was missing from the ship and a search party was sent out to find him. While the search party was out, Quentin came back aboard the ship and confessed to a messenger that he had taken a whole bottle of pills. The messenger told his father and after his stomach was pumped, he was put into isolation in his cabin for about a month. He was not allowed to communicate with anyone, except his auditor. After that, he was assigned to the RPF. When I saw Quentin, I forgot all about my troubles. He looked so thin and vulnerable. I vowed that I would protect him and get him through the RPF. In the RPF, people were paired off to audit one another and somehow I managed to be paired off with Quentin. Quentin and I also became the RPF case supervisors. Although RPFers were not normally allowed to be on the deck that Quentin's cabin was on, he and I were given special permission to go to his cabin, study folders and audit one another. That cabin became a haven for both of us. Even though Quentin was very run down, he was very brave. He never lost his sense of humor. We spent a lot of time together in his cabin, talking, laughing and eating peanut butter that he had taken from his family food supply. Later, Quentin referred to these days as "the peanut butter days of the RPF". Quentin and I hung in there for one another and developed an even closer bond of friendship. Humor, warmth and love were rare commodities aboard the ship, but ones which Quentin and I shared in abundance. I have read many accounts that described Quentin as a miserable person. While I don't deny this, I saw another side of Quentin; he was a person who, somehow, was able to continue to love, in spite of all the personal misery he was going through. I'll never forget Quentin and the bond we shared. He never abandoned me, even after I left Scientology. The last letter I received from him was just two weeks before the day he went into a coma. <A HREF="http://www.ctrl.org/">www.ctrl.org</A> DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER ========== CTRL is a discussion & informational exchange list. Proselytizing propagandic screeds are unwelcomed. Substance�not soap-boxing�please! 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