Commodore's Messenger: A Child Adrift in the Scientology Sea Organization

By Janis Gillham Grady

At age 12 Janis was thrust into a role that no one, not even L. Ron Hubbard himself, could have predicted the outcome, for within not too many years Janis and her fellow Commodore’s Messengers, as they were called, would be running the whole of International Scientology. But that is the story of a later book. Commodore’s Messenger begins by taking the reader into the life of the first family of Scientology in Australia, Yvonne and Peter Gillham and their three children, Peter Jr., Terri and Janis. Life for the Gillhams is not without its challenges in Australia, but nothing compared to what happens when the family moves to England after dealing with the banning of Scientology in Victoria.

Things spiral out of control as Hubbard leaves England and takes to the sea, to continue his research into higher spiritual states for mankind, as he puts it, or to escape the long arm of the law as many critics contend. Yvonne and her children soon find themselves enmeshed in Hubbard’s inner circle, Yvonne with Hubbard himself as one of his trusted aides, and the children with Hubbard’s own family. When Yvonne joins the newly established Sea Organization, to support Hubbard in his seafaring adventures, her children find themselves aboard what would become the flagship of Hubbard’s burgeoning navy.

Having children underfoot does not fit well with the serious nature of Hubbard’s plans to expand Scientology’s worldwide impact. So, he determines to make these children useful. He begins using them to send messages to various parts of the organization aboard the Apollo, hence the name Commodore’s Messenger.

With this as a background, know that the story Janis has written comes from the earliest days and the epicenter of Scientology’s Sea Organization. As a messenger, Janis was with Hubbard a minimum of 6 hours a day and often times much longer. She was privy to all his moods from sunny to thundering; as a messenger, she was intimately familiar with everything happening on board the ship as well as throughout the Scientology network.

But Janis was also her own person and as a teenager, she lived a life that few of her peers could ever hope to have lived. I found myself literally agog at some of the early experiences that Sea Org members somehow survived in the organization’s early years. Hubbard’s cavalier regard for the lives of others was astonishing, as Janis relates some of the storms encountered by Sea Org vessels ill-equipped to be piloted by those with so little seamanship training. It is a wonder no one was killed.

This is the first of three books.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janis Gillham Grady
• Release date: Aug 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9781547202195

Janis Gillham Grady

My mother was Yvonne Gillham-Jentzsch, the founder of Celebrity Centre for the Church of Scientology. After my parents divorced, my mother married Heber Jentzsch, who is well known as the President of the Church of Scientology International. My father is Peter F. Gillham (AKA Pete or Peter Snr.) who, in the 1970s, was known as one of the top lecturers on the subject of Scientology. In addition to his lectures Peter authored two successful books “Tell It Like It Is” and “The Fundamentals of Success” which thousands of people credited with helping them. He later became internationally known as a nutritionist with monthly newsletters giving nutritional advice and tips. In the 1980s he developed instant CalMag, leading him to develop Natural Calm by Natural Vitality in the 1990s, which he writes about in his book “The Miracle Nutrient.” Natural Calm remains a best-selling magnesium supplement and has helped thousands of people internationally improve their health. In the mid-1960s ”the Gillhams” were regarded as Scientology’s first family in Australia. When Scientology was banned in the Australian state of Victoria, my parents moved the family to England. Shortly afterwards we moved to the Scientology ships. In later years, we were accepted as the second family of Scientology. Yvonne headed up Scientology’s Celebrity Centre and built it to more than two hundred staff, while Peter introduced people into Scientology through his books, lectures and as the Executive Director of the Scientology Phoenix mission. Meanwhile my sister Terri, my sister-in-law Doreen Smith-Gillham and I were all senior ranking Commodore’s Messengers working directly with L. Ron Hubbard, founder of Scientology. My brother, Peter Jr., also worked directly with L. Ron Hubbard on the ship and on land. As a child of 11, in January 1968, I arrived on the Scientology ship, the Royal Scotman where I became an original Commodore’s Messenger for L. Ron Hubbard. Over the next 11 years I spent six hours or more a day with L. Ron Hubbard, until December of 1979, when shortly after, Hubbard went into “hiding” with fellow Commodore’s Messengers, Annie and Pat Broeker. Hubbard passed away in January 1986. Many who were there say I was raised by Hubbard. My husband jokes that I was raised by wolves (living in a pack), but I believe I was not raised at all, but grew into the world around me. Ha! I lived on the Scientology ship, Apollo (previously named Royal Scotman) for eight years as a personal messenger for L. Ron Hubbard and then another three years by his side as he moved around the U.S. east coast to the west. As Commodore’s Messengers, we were direct representatives of Hubbard within the world of Scientology. After 22 years, I left in August 1990, no longer able to agree with the direction the Church of Scientology was taking. Along with my husband of 11 years, we disappeared into the night to raise a family outside of the world of Scientology.

Book preview

Commodore’s Messenger:

A Child Adrift

in the Scientology Sea Organization

Book One

1953 - October 1970

by

Janis Gillham Grady

Copyright © 2017 by Janis Gillham Grady

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Quotes from the printed works of L. Ron Hubbard are used herein for the purpose of education, criticism and comments. Publisher believes this constitutes a fair use of the copyrighted material as provided of the U.S. Copyright Law.

Book design, maps and ship diagrams by Jefferson Hawkins

Edited by Karen Pressley

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write the author at: mailto:[e-mail][e-mail]_

http://www.commodoresmessenger.com_www.commodoresmessenger.com_

First Edition

Published by Outback Publishing

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

1

Captivity

2

In the Beginning

3

The Inquiry

4

Down the Rabbit Hole

5

The Supreme Test

6

A Flotilla of Rust Buckets

7

Shanghai’d

8

Abandoned

9

Corfu

10

Kicked Out

11

Mystery Ship

12

Good Ship Apollo

13

Slaves

14

Running with the Bulls

GLOSSARY

DISCLAIMER

Much has been written about L. Ron Hubbard, Founder of Dianetics and Scientology—some true, some false, and some somewhere in between. Everything in this book actually happened according to my memory or memories of those who were there…and unlike old TV shows, most of the names have not been changed to protect the innocent. No matter what is said or claimed about me by the current Church of Scientology, they can blame Scientology for who I am and what I say, since I was born into Scientology by Scientology parents and raised as a teenager by L. Ron Hubbard himself.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my mother,

Yvonne Gillham Jentzsch,

all past and present Sea Org members.

May you find the truth you have been looking for.

IMPORTANT NOTICE

Having spent more than the first half of my life involved with Scientology, it was easy to slip into old habits and write this story using Scientology lingo, which was my first language. I have therefore included a glossary at the end of this book to define many Scientology terms used in the writing of this book.

Please bear with me as I refer to my parents as Mum or Dad or their given names throughout this book. I have tried to refer to them as Mum or Dad when it is family related and as Yvonne or Pete when it is in reference to how others might know or relate to them.

Discussions or stories about Scientology can become a very heated subject with many different views as to what it is/was and what effects, good or bad, it has had on people. As the author of this book, I am not trying to take any side but to tell the story of my life from my point of view of what happened. I have tried to describe things as they happened from my view as a young girl and I have tried to leave out as much opinion as possible to make it easier for the reader to read and digest to form their own ideas about the various occurrences in the early days of Scientology and the Sea Organization.

Maps of the locations to where we traveled have been included to help you visualize places I describe or reference. If these maps are insufficient, please visit Google maps to help you get a better feel for each place. I encourage you to use the glossary and maps while reading my story. The diagrams of the Royal Scotman/Apollo were done from memory of those who served and lived aboard her.

For extra enjoyment of viewing photos from this time period, I have created a website: www.Commodoresmessenger.com which contains the same photos plus more photos for the time period of this book.

FOREWORD

I have personally known this talented author for over fifty years. She is the most loving, generous, kind hearted and forgiving soul whom I have known. She is intensely honest and abidingly loyal to her friends and family. She does not subscribe to nor abide the concept of enemies. She is extremely creative and has an enduring capability of NOT allowing people, situations or problems to overcome her. Her abilities to outcreate any opposition and to turn any adversity into tremendous opportunity sets her on a par with some of the greatest creative minds that I know! This includes her productivity level which is unprecedented. She is a powerful yet gentle soul.

What she records herewith is a true and very personal account of her life. I have ultimate respect for her time and talents that she has positively expended to share her inner most thoughts and life experiences. I truly hope that you enjoy reading her story as much as I did!

A faithful friend,

Elizabeth Saxon

PREFACE

Growing up as a child of a prominent Australian Scientology family, my parents were dedicated to raising my siblings and me to believe in and behave according to the Scientology Creed. We lived thousands of miles away from Scientology headquarters where they did not practice what was preached to us. As an original messenger for L. Ron Hubbard, from my 11-year-old eyes and through nearly three decades into my life, I observed that the closer one got to the Scientology founder, the further from ideal, life became.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

There were so many people that helped during the writing of this book and I hope I didn’t miss anyone: My husband Paul Grady, my father Peter F. Gillham, my brother Peter L. Gillham and wife Lauren, and my sister Terri Gamboa and husband Fernando.

A special thanks to Karen Pressley, Amos Jessup and Holly Carlson for editing expertise, Shelly Britt-Corrias and Mark Owen Plummer for proofreading and Jefferson Hawkins for the design of the cover, maps and diagrams of the Apollo. Mark Owen Plummer was also a tremendous help with research and finding references for me that I needed to jog my memory. And of course, Sylvia Calhoun for letting me use her personal collection of photos, Karen De La Carriere whose photo collection of original photos was also very useful, Candy Chaleff, Sharone Stainforth and Mike Stainforth (RIP) for granting me permission to include their photos.

I also want to acknowledge my longtime friends who lived with me on the high seas, remembering good and bad times as we went back in history together. They have always been there for me: Amos Jessup, Sylvia Calhoun, Kenneth G. Urquhart, Hana Eltringham-Whitfield, Joe von Staden, Pineapple, Blake Huffam (RIP), Neville Chamberlain, Rebecca Jessup, Candy Chaleff, Cathy Cariotaki (RIP), Bill and Joan Robertson (RIP), Brian Charlton, Cathy Mullins, Loy Young, Bob Young, Otto Roos, Jill Gleeson, Rob Williamson, Jeanette Thorpenberg, Ralph Hilton, Malcolm Neiman, Dede, Gale and Gary Reisdorf, Lois Jory-Reisdorf, Jill Goodman, Marion (Maz) Barton-Kuhn (RIP), Holly Carlson, David James, Sandy Holeman (AKA Sandy Barnes), Travers E. Harris, Kima Douglas (RIP), Bert Rossouw, Glenn Samuels, Amanda Strawn, Julie B., Sharone Stainforth, Mike Goldstein, Jeff Walker (RIP), Mike Rinder, Jim Din, Bitty Blythe (Miscavige), Gerry Armstrong, Paul Ilot, Paul Kawaller, Neil Sarfati, Frank McAll (RIP), MaryLou Little, David Mayo, Bill Franks, there are also several others that I would like to include here but they did not wish to have their names associated with that time period in their lives.

Allan Mossman: though he never sailed with me on the Royal Scotsman, he sailed on her during her prime as a cattle and passenger ship and created a wonderful website on her history and supplied me with some photos of her from the 1940s.

And to those friends on land, that supported me throughout this process with research, editing, proofreading, crosschecking, advice, encouragement, moral support, etc.: Roger Weller, Howard Dickman, Spanky Taylor, Dan Koon, Chuck Beatty, Ron Miscavige Snr, Mike Laws, Robbie Levin, Sterling Thompkins, Russ Williams, Steve Hall, Nancy Hawkins, Mark Fisher, Jeffrey Augustine, Noel and Marion Barton, Steven Cannane, Tony Ortega, Jonny Jacobsen, Jim Beverley, Susan Desjardin, Debra Desjardin, Jesse and Lisa Ferrell, Armen Changizian, Kelly Munk, Steve Irwin, Pat Gualtari (RIP), Tom Keough, and of course, my children John and Erin Grady and nieces Yvonne Gillham (jr) and Nicole Gillham with their continued encouragement and support to get the story out there.

The Creed of Scientology by L. Ron Hubbard

We of the church believe:

That all men of whatever race, color or creed were created with equal rights;

That all men have inalienable rights to their own religious practices and their performance;

That all men have inalienable rights to their own lives;

That all men have inalienable rights to their sanity;

That all men have inalienable rights to their own defense;

That all men have inalienable rights to conceive, choose, assist or support their own organizations, churches and governments;

That all men have inalienable rights to think freely, to talk freely, to write freely their own opinions and to counter or utter or write upon the opinion of others;

That all men have the inalienable rights to the creation of their own kind;

That the souls of men have the rights of men;

That the study of the mind and the healing of mentally caused ills should not be alienated from religion or condoned in nonreligious fields;

And that no agency less than God has the power to suspend or set aside those rights, overtly or covertly;

And we of the Church believe:

That man is basically good;

That he is seeking to survive;

That his survival depends upon himself and upon his fellows and his attainment of brotherhood with the universe.

And we of the church believe that the laws of God forbid man:

To destroy his own kind;

To destroy the sanity of another;

To destroy or enslave another’s soul;

To destroy or reduce the survival of one’s companions or one’s group;

And we of the Church believe that the spirit can be saved and that the spirit alone may save or heal the body.

INTRODUCTION

Before reading this book, it is best you have an understanding of who I am.

My mother was Yvonne Gillham-Jentzsch, the founder of Celebrity Centre for the Church of Scientology. After my parents divorced, my mother married Heber Jentzsch, who is well known as the President of the Church of Scientology International.

My father is Peter F. Gillham (AKA Pete or Peter Snr.) who, in the 1970s, was known as one of the top lecturers on the subject of Scientology. In addition to his lectures Peter authored two successful books "Tell It Like It Is" and "The Fundamentals of Success" which thousands of people credited with helping them. He later became internationally known as a nutritionist with monthly newsletters giving nutritional advice and tips. In the 1980s he developed instant CalMag, leading him to develop Natural Calm by Natural Vitality in the 1990s, which he writes about in his book "The Miracle Nutrient." Natural Calm remains a best-selling magnesium supplement and has helped thousands of people internationally improve their health.

In the mid-1960s the Gillhams were regarded as Scientology’s first family in Australia. When Scientology was banned in the Australian state of Victoria, my parents moved the family to England. Shortly afterwards we moved to the Scientology ships. In later years, we were accepted as the second family of Scientology. Yvonne headed up Scientology’s Celebrity Centre and built it to more than two hundred staff, while Peter introduced people into Scientology through his books, lectures and as the Executive Director of the Scientology Phoenix mission. Meanwhile my sister Terri, my sister-in-law Doreen Smith-Gillham and I were all senior ranking Commodore’s Messengers working directly with L. Ron Hubbard, founder of Scientology. My brother, Peter Jr., also worked directly with L. Ron Hubbard on the ship and on land.

As a child of 11, in January 1968, I arrived on the Scientology ship, the Royal Scotman where I became an original Commodore’s Messenger for L. Ron Hubbard. Over the next 11 years I spent six hours or more a day with L. Ron Hubbard, until December of 1979, when shortly after, Hubbard went into hiding with fellow Commodore’s Messengers, Annie and Pat Broeker. Hubbard passed away in January 1986.

Many who were there say I was raised by Hubbard. My husband jokes that I was raised by wolves (living in a pack), but I believe I was not raised at all, but grew into the world around me. Ha!

I lived on the Scientology ship, Apollo (previously named Royal Scotman) for eight years as a personal messenger for L. Ron Hubbard and then another three years by his side as he moved around the U.S. east coast to the west. As Commodore’s Messengers, we were direct representatives of Hubbard within the world of Scientology. After 22 years, I left in August 1990, no longer able to agree with the direction the Church of Scientology was taking. Along with my husband of 11 years, we disappeared into the night to raise a family outside of the world of Scientology.

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery,

none but ourselves can free our minds!

— Marcus Garvey

1

Captivity

May, 1978

...The only reason brainwashing works the way the commies do it is because they make people do self-criticism. . . but they make them think-think-think-think-think in their heads… Figure-figure harder, figure-figure harder, and they just keep reducing their havingness (taking things away), reducing their havingness, reducing their havingness. . .

L. Ron Hubbard Auditing Techniques…

January 1957

STOP! LAZ COMMANDED, as he grabbed me by the arm.

I shook him off as I ignored his command and kept walking. Laz jumped in front of me and grabbed both my arms to stop me from walking away.

"Get your filthy hands off me!" I shouted back, confronting him directly. Laz refused to let me go.

I shook his hands off me, then slapped him across the face and kept walking. Laz told the guard he had guarding me "Go get six of the biggest men that you can find." Ignoring them, I made it halfway down the dirt road until the six men surrounded me. I was not allowed to move. Laz ordered them to block me from going anywhere for nearly fifteen minutes while he disappeared.

It didn’t matter if I yelled and screamed. We were in the middle of nowhere in the desert—I knew there was no one around to hear me! There was nowhere for me to run. Maybe the men expected me to kick and scream. I did not.

My intention was to defy them, I felt calm, considering the madness surrounding me. After a lifetime of growing up in Scientology, at age 22, I wanted to leave the Sea Org, the highest echelon of Scientology. I did not want to give up Scientology, as it was a way of life for me and I didn’t know much else. I just refused to be a slave anymore, and didn’t agree with how staff members who worked within the rank and file of Scientology’s Sea Organization were being treated, including me.

When Laz returned, he ordered the six men to escort me to the back of the Ranch House. I could cooperate, or I could resist by screaming or trying to break free from their control—but what good would that have done? There was nowhere to go and no one around to help. I walked with them toward the usual entrance to the staff lounge, and assumed I would be waiting there to see Maria Starkey in her office next door. But once I stepped inside, the door was closed behind me, and locked.

Laz had converted the hall of the Ranch House into a prison, with the doors to the rooms locked from the outside. Laz’s plan all along was to move me into this trap. I was locked inside a hall with a bathroom, and locked off from the rest of the house. This confined space held only a mattress on the floor with two sheets, a pillow, a towel and bar of soap, and the clothes on my back.

I might have been able to climb out of the bathroom window, but where would I go? And my pockets were empty - no money. My brother Peter and my sister Terri shared a car with me, but my keys had already been taken, and the distributor cap had been removed in case I knew how to hot-wire it, which I did not.

I was being held prisoner against my will.

The guards, however, all thought they were helping me by following L. Ron Hubbard’s instructions on dealing with someone having a psychotic break. "Isolate the person wholly with all attendants COMPLETELY muzzled (no speech)" L. Ron Hubbard. However, there is a difference between having a psychotic break and refusing to be unjustly sent to the Rehabilitarion Project Force..

Guards stood watch outside the door of my confinement for twenty-four hours a day. They were instructed to not talk to me. They unlocked the door only three times a day to quickly slide in some food and vitamins. They gave me a few pieces of paper and a pen to write down anything I had to say. Besides repeating that I wanted to leave, I had nothing else to say.

My first day of imprisonment, I caught up on my sleep. Sleep was treated as a luxury in the Sea Org, versus a healthy necessity. Since I was a prisoner with no other options, I took advantage of having the privacy and time to luxuriate in a hot bath while I daydreamed of what life might be like in the outside world.

The second day, bored with nothing to do, I ripped my pieces of blank papers into small, same-size pieces and made myself a deck of 52 playing cards and played solitaire. At least once a day I was asked through the door if I wanted to write to the Case Supervisor (this is the person that oversees the Scientology counseling). I did not. Plus, I wasn’t going to let them know I had used the paper they had given me to play cards. Just as per LRH’s quote at the start of this chapter, my torn-up paper cards were the only thing I had of value.

No one entered my hallway prison until about six days later, when my breakfast was dropped off. The guard actually entered my prison, saying nothing to me, while he quickly looked around the hall and bathroom, then left.

With no people contact, no phone, no computer, there was nothing to do but think by myself. Here I was, held captive, having fallen from the very top to the absolute lowest in the hierarchy of the Scientology world. This was a long way from having been in the mecca of Scientology in England, and then at the top echelon of Scientology as one of L. Ron Hubbard's personal messenger’s on the Apollo and other locations. All I could do now was meander through some of the details about how I landed in this locked room.

I was living in La Quinta, California, a small town about 130 miles east of Los Angeles, tucked behind the Santa Rosa Mountains. I had been there with a small group of Scientologists employed by the Church of Scientology. This group's job was to surround and support L. Ron Hubbard (LRH), the founder of the Church of Scientology.

Included at this secretive location was a group of mostly young ladies, known as the Commodore’s Messengers, or just the Messengers. Within the Church of Scientology the Messengers were L. Ron Hubbard’s emissaries. As messengers, we stayed in LRH’s vicinity twenty-four hours a day to take dictation, run messages, ensure his household was smoothly run, filter all communications to him, and various other assigned duties. Some of LRH’s family and personal staff were also within this elite group at La Quinta.

In late 1976, LRH purchased three different properties attached to date tree fields. Palms was a Spanish style house with a swimming pool, tennis court and a date field on one side and behind it. Next to Palms was Olives that also had a swimming pool, date field, olive and citrus trees, along with four guest houses. On the back side of Olives was the Ranch House with a row of horse stables and a date packing plant, along with a date field and alfalfa field. We built a bunk house for men’s berthing next to the Ranch House. A short distance away on the other side of the alfalfa field was another property we referred to as Rifle, which consisted of a walled-in house with a pool and guest house, where LRH lived. There were stables at the front of the property used for storage of LRH’s personal belongings.

This group of properties were referred to as WHQ for Winter Headquarters, or SU for Special Unit, or Over the Rainbow —as the location of LRH was kept a secret from the rest of the world.

Besides these properties and a few other scattered houses was the La Quinta Resort and Club, consisting of a clubhouse, some houses and bungalows, a few swimming pools, some tennis courts and a horse riding stable for hotel guests. The rest of the town was mostly empty desert and date fields, and a Circle K mini-mart down the road (which today is a golf course). Roadrunners and rattlesnakes were our neighbors. Palm Desert was to the northwest of us.

Six Months Earlier:

In January of 1978, LRH launched his film-making project of training films for Scientologists. One day in early May, LRH with a shoot crew and messengers went to the Soboba Indian Reservation and Massacre Canyon Inn (MCI) in the San Jacinto area. When we arrived at the planned location, I saw the shoot was to take place in a thick brush setting in a gully. I put my purse with the keys to the car I was driving inside LRH’s motorhome for safekeeping. It was a twist of fate.

For the next part of the photo shoot, we packed up the equipment and prepared to move down the road about fifteen minutes to MCI golf course. We planned to break for lunch before shooting more film. Rising out of the gully, I headed toward’s LRH's motorhome—which was gone!

LRH’s chauffeur, Wik Allcock, had told LRH he would take the motorhome to the next location so it would be ready and waiting for him when he arrived for lunch. Normally, Wik would have told me, LRH’s messenger, but since I had been down in a gully, he went directly to LRH.

Two other messengers and I had a car but no keys. I quickly arranged for each of us to catch rides with the film crew so we could be with LRH when he arrived at MCI. As soon as I got to the motorhome, I grabbed my purse with the car keys and hurriedly found someone to take me back to the stranded car.

When I finally got back to the group, lunch was over and the scene at the golf course was being set up for filming. LRH did not say a word to me as I jumped back in to help set up the shot, so I didn’t know he noticed I was missing for about half an hour.

Upon our return to the base in La Quinta, LRH sent a messenger to tell me I was in a condition of liability for negligence. LRH describes the condition of liability, as a person who has "ceased to be simply non-existent as a team member and has taken on the color of an enemy". This ethics condition is normally assigned where careless or malicious and knowing damage is caused to projects, organizations or activities. I felt impotent to defend myself, since I did put the keys in the motorhome, but I was not about to disagree and get myself in further trouble. I hated being in trouble.

The next day, LRH ordered that I have a List One Security-Check. This consisted of being interrogated using a list of questions monitored by an E-meter. In those days, the FDA required that the E-meter could only be referred to as a religious artifact, or they might confiscate it as an unapproved diagnostic tool. The E-meter is an instrument that measures mental resistance as shown in the meter’s needle reactions. It is used as a tool in Scientology auditing, or spiritual counseling, as well as in ethics interrogations as a lie detector, for what are called security-checks. A List One Security-Check was a serious form of interrogation, used to detect whether I had any evil intentions towards LRH, his wife Mary Sue, Scientology, or other aspects of Scientology. If the needle on the E-meter started slamming back and forth, it was called a rock slam, indicating evil intentions (according to Hubbard).

I could not believe that I was going to be subjected to a List One Security Check. After years of loyal and dedicated service to LRH, I was now being treated like an enemy! Especially at a time when I was still struggling with the loss of my mother, whose recent death left me filled with questions and regrets about the way she had been handled within Scientology. Dan Koon, who had been helping me address my emotions connected to this loss, reluctantly began the security check, knowing it was improper to change processes while leaving the traumatic loss incompletely addressed.

The security checking I was receiving wasn’t helping my state of mind. Mid the sec-check, they changed the sec-checker on me. They reported the needle rock slammed while I was questioned about Mary Sue Hubbard, LRH’s wife. From this they concluded my error (putting car keys in the motor home) resulted from my evil intentions towards Mary Sue. I could not help but reflect that out of all the LRH messengers, I had the best relationship with her.

This whole mess had grown into multiple layers of problems. I had unanswered questions on the circumstances surrounding my mother’s death at the young age of 50, just three months prior, and having been lied to about it.

Mum had been a shining star in Scientology, the founder and leader of the Celebrity Centre in Los Angeles, and she was famously known as the epitome of a Scientologist. Any Scientologist who knew Yvonne knew of her exceptional ability to make things happen, and the way she related to people and handled herself in general. She was the Mother Theresa of Scientology and was known to deal with everyone with complete love and compassion.

When Mum became deathly ill in Los Angeles, no one informed me. My boss, Annie Tidman, along with a couple others, did know Yvonne’s medical issues, but decided it was best I didn’t know. When I received a letter from Mum, with incomplete sentences, I started asking every person that arrived at WHQ from Los Angeles if they had seen Yvonne and if she was okay. No one seemed to have seen her and assumed she was working long hours and very tired when she wrote the letter. Little did I know, they were lying. Meanwhile she was, in fact, dying.

By this time, I had not seen my mother in nearly a year. We had both agreed to take a week off to spend the time together once she returned from a tour of Mexico. When I submitted for my leave of absence to spend the time with her, it was denied. I was told Yvonne was not feeling well and needed to rest, so she could not take the trip. Plus, I was needed to help prepare for the return of LRH to the La Quinta property.

Annie Tidman, having returned from a trip to Los Angeles, told me she had checked on Mum and said it would be best that I wait to see her after she recovered from her illness. Plans had been made for Yvonne to go to Clearwater, Florida, where she would get better care. It was basically a lie. Everyone minimized the severity of Yvonne’s illness. I was repeatedly told not to worry. Yvonne would be back soon and I could spend time with her. Meanwhile, my brother knew nothing of her illness at all, or that she had even gone to Clearwater.

Tragically, upon Mum’s arrival in Clearwater, she was sequestered to a room with few to no visitors. She could no longer work, so was considered a malingerer and someone not pulling their weight. Only my stepfather Heber Jentzsch, my father Peter Gillham (Snr), and my sister Terri Gamboa (who had to sneak away to Florida from California to see her), were able to say good bye.

My mother died before my brother and I saw her again. Her illness, as well as her ultimate death, was considered bad PR for Scientology.

I could not shake the feeling of betrayal. The lies about her condition, the cover-ups of facts, and how others prevented me from knowing what really happened, just held my grief in place. I sat in the middle of this for months, before this car key incident happened that led to my security check. This was followed by my imprisonment by the very group that had betrayed me.

It was mid 1978 and plenty of other Sea Org members around this time period, no matter how well they were doing on their posts, were automatically assigned to the Rehabilitation Project Force (RPF) if they rock slammed during the List One Security Check. The RPF filled up fast with good staff members, due to an all-out witch-hunt, and I was to join them. The RPF was established as a place for Sea Org members to rehabilitate themselves so they could be better members of the group when done.

RPFers were assigned the dirtiest and grossest jobs of hard labor. They were required to run, not walk, everywhere, and were forbidden to speak to anyone not on the RPF. All people relegated to the RPF were required to live communally as a group in the garage of the Palms property. They were no longer allowed to live with their spouses. Personal time was gone, no time off, quarter pay only. And everyone not on the RPF had to be addressed as Sir. RPF food consisted of leftovers from the other crew. This rehabilitation program at the Scientology penal colony stripped staff members of all rights and dignity.

Anyone assigned to the RPF became the automatic responsibility of the RPF unit only, since no one else at the base wanted to deal with them. It was like having leprosy. If someone refused to go, as I did, anything you owned such as clothing and bedding got packed up and moved into the RPF space without your permission. At meal times, the galley only gave you food when the RPFers were being fed. The only people willing to talk to you, or people you could get help from, were other RPFers.

Before Laz trapped me, two RPFers were sent to escort me to the RPF. What little personal belongings I owned were packed by another into my suitcase and delivered to the RPF. The people I considered my friends no longer talked to me, and instead, turned their heads or changed directions, when they saw me. I had no way of knowing until much later, that when a fellow messenger or Special Unit staff member asked about me, they were told I had a psychotic break, so they didn’t attempt to intervene! It was standard practice in Scientology to lock someone up if they had a breakdown, and it was left up to Ethics and an auditor to handle. Many did not even know I was locked up, assuming I accepted going to the RPF. I had not had a breakdown, instead I refused to cooperate and follow orders.

The stigma from this RPF assignment brought me total betrayal. I felt completely alone, fully reliant on myself to protect or defend my rights. I wondered if LRH would notice I was missing, and send a messenger to order my release after realizing a mistake had been made. Having grown up since age 11 without my father around, but having worked for LRH nearly every day for 10 years, LRH had been like a father to me. So much betrayal!

Laz couldn’t convince me to do the RPF. There was nothing about the program—not the studying or the auditing for five hours a day, or the hard labor for the rest of the day—that addressed the circumstances of my life. Laz continued to use various tactics to refute my rejection of his explanations and pleas. He tried to praise me for my years of success as a senior messenger. He resorted to complimenting my legs, and telling me that if I stuck with him, life would be much more comfortable in the RPF. He could ensure I got the easier jobs, but if I continued to refuse the program, he could make my life miserable. Eventually, Laz said the RPF didn’t want me to be part of their group, and that I was assigned to the RPF’s RPF, the lowest of the low elements of the RPF prison population. These people could not talk to anyone, including other RPFers, could not make eye contact with anyone, and had as much status in life as the dirt on the bottom of my shoe.

I held my ground. No RPF or RPF’s RPF for me.

Laz placed me under guard by male RPF members, to prevent me from leaving and tried to get me to join the rest of the group doing hard labor. By this point, not even the RPFers, nor the staff who ran the RPF program, knew what to do with me.

Laz wanted to prevent me from further upsetting or influencing the rest of the RPFers who accepted their fate and were doing the program. He ordered the guard to physically escort me to the driveway leading to the garage in which the RPF staff lived. The driveway was about eighty feet long, and ran between Palms and a date tree field.

I spent two days under guard, while sitting in or walking up and down that driveway. I refused to enter the RPF’s garage area, where the RPF staff slept and studied in cramped, smelly spaces. A curtain separated the men’s sleeping quarters from the women’s, and the bunks were three high. I chose to spend two nights sleeping outside in the driveway under the stars and watchful eye of a guard.

The guards worried I might bolt, so they walked behind me whenever I walked up and down the driveway. They were under strict instructions not to talk to me. But Steve, a guard married to one of my fellow messengers, talked to me out of earshot of the others. The rest of the guards refused to answer anything I might say to them. I started to have some fun by breaking into a run, then laughing at the guards when they panicked for fear I would keep running and not come back.

During those two days, several friends already on the RPF got permission to try to convince me to stay and do the RPF. No matter what anyone said, I knew I was not a bad person, and was determined not to do the RPF, and that I would rather leave and try to make my way in the outside world. This was in spite of the fact that I had worked full time for Scientology since I was 11 years old, and I had no experience outside Scientology.

Laz tried several more times, as did others, to try to convince me to stay. Laz turned to insulting me, saying I had been spoiled over the years and it was time to get off my high horse as I no longer had any status and was really a nobody. They continued to attack me personally for not accepting my fate as a person who needed Scientology’s rehabilitation, insisting I was acting like a stuck-up LRH messenger. They also pointed out that the RPF motto was "The RPF is what we make it," so we could make it better than what people thought it was.

In my eyes, people who did the RPF were basically slaves with no determination of their own, and basically no freedom to think nor act for themselves.

2

In the Beginning

1953 – 1963

"Brainwashing was revealed as a political strategy for expansion and control made up of two processes. One is the conditioning, or softening-up process primarily for control purposes. The other is an indoctrination or persuasion process for conversion purposes."

Edward Hunter, author,

Brainwashing: The Story of Men Who Defied It

I LIKE TO THINK that during my first nine years of childhood, we were almost a normal Australian family. Mum and Dad took my brother Peter, my sister Terri, and me on vacations for wonderful adventures. We’d go to Queensland to visit family, went camping together, and rented a house in Rosebud, a seaside town near Melbourne, where we soaked up sunny days at the beach. When the Queen of England visited Australia, our family of five stood on the edge of the Yarra River, proudly waving our Australian flags as her boat passed us.

My dad, Peter Gillham, worked as an accountant to sustain our growing family. My mother, Yvonne Gillham’s love for children inspired her teaching career, leading to her appointment as a kindergarten director in Ashgrove, Queensland. Yvonne authored nearly two hundred short stories for children published in the Brisbane, Queensland newspaper for eleven years. Her stories seemed to touch many readers, reaching even the Queen of England. Mum received a letter from the Queen one day, saying how she looked forward to the arrival of the Brisbane paper so she could read my mother’s stories to her children.

When I was 9 years old, my whole world shifted. On December 9, 1965, Mum left all of us and headed off to East Grinstead, Sussex, England where L. Ron Hubbard at St. Hill Manor was located. Dad suddenly found himself left as a single father to care for three young children. Peter was 12, so he spent time at friends’ homes and could fend for himself, but Terri and I found ourselves shuffled from family to family.

The events leading up to Mum’s departure had actually started before I was born, when Yvonne and Peter Gillham (Snr) started seeing life through the lens of a Scientologist. Over the years, they became parents who switched their passions and allegiance from our family to dedicate themselves foremost to L. Ron Hubbard’s world of Dianetics and Scientology. Our family activities would happen in fits and spurts. We would not see Mum or Dad for months or sometimes years, but when our family was back together again we would have the best times. Mum’s world widened to international travels, including to ports across the seas, and eventually to create and lead Scientology’s Celebrity Centre in Hollywood, California. But for a time that feels too long to measure, Mum’s world did not include Peter, Terri or me. It would be many years before I ever connected the dots to understand my parents’ choice for our lives.

December 1961 on family vacation to Brisbane: Yvonne and Pete with Peter, myself and Terri

Brisbane, 1953

Not long after my brother, Peter Gillham Jr. was born, an unexpected influence crept into my parent’s life, thanks to Mum’s assistant, Mildred. She had been attending meetings about a new book that had just taken America by storm: Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health by L. Ron Hubbard, which immediately interested Yvonne. It wasn’t until Mildred mentioned Hubbard’s discussions about past lives that she got Dad’s attention. Dad started attending group sessions where he learned to do drills using Hubbard’s book Self-Analysis, and within just a few weeks, realized an increase in his awareness and abilities in dealing with life.

To prevent confusion between my father (Peter F. Gillham) and brother (Peter L. Gillham) having the same name, my mother always referred to my father as Pete and my brother as Peter, as my brother did not like being referred to as a junior so this is how I refer to them throughout this book, despite my father being known internationally as Peter Gillham.

While both my parents read Dianetics, they hoped that this modern science for mental health might offer a cure for Peter’s bowed legs. As Peter had grown from babyhood to toddler, the solution had been to put leg braces on him to force his legs to grow straight. Wearing braces at such a young age had made Peter an irritated, difficult baby instead of a happy one. With the