Leaderboard

Day Nine: Sunday, May 3rd Intervention to Half-way House The deprogrammers had gone the night before. Plans were to leave the house. Around 9am or so, I was told that we were headed to the airport. My parents had arranged for me to spend time at a half-way house in Iowa City, IA. My parents had hopes that this intervention had worked, their struggle to release me had paid off.......and soon this episode of travail would cease and be washed from memory. I was reserved in my demeanor.....of which, I presumed they took that as progress. At the airport, I would be parting ways with my dad.......he would drive home; my mom would ride in the plane with me to Iowa City. My uncle owned this plane and one of his employees would pilot this flight. Again, not commercial travel......to keep distance as best possible, just in case. The time, effort and expense that went into this intervention, and forthcoming re-hab, only seemed to exemplify the lengths of forethought and preparation to do all of this. It was gut-wrenching......the slow-motion, churning emotional turmoil of seeing all this......having planned classes, meetings, events, understanding what effort it takes to pull off something of this magnitude.....knowing deep within, that I was headed back to twi, and my fiancé....just biding my time for the right moment. As we stood in the lobby, waiting for the plane.....I asked my dad for some coin change for the vending machine. They had given me back my wallet with my driver's license in it.....but not one single dollar. I had no money and thought some a couple of dimes and/or quarters would be needed to make a phone call [and I was right]. My dad embraced me with a long, hug good-bye and my mom got aboard the plane seated next to me. We flew to Iowa City.....someone from the re-hab place was there to drive us to my next "house." I carried my luggage, with new clothes.....six or seven new shirts, jeans, etc. everything different to erase the cult-memories from my life..... into the house, up the stairs into my newly-assigned room. Across the hall was another "cult guy" (I believe hare krishna) who'd been there for like three weeks. He greeted me and extended his hand. I was told to unpack my bags, put things in "my" dresser and closet......and in 10 minutes we'd have a meeting downstairs in the family room to go over schedule and new guidelines. As I stood at that dresser and looked in at myself in the mirror, I listened to the voices downstairs. I waited for another couple of minutes to pass.....then, went quietly down the stairs, peeked around the corner....slipped across the small hallway and out the side door. Only the clothes on my back and the coin change in my pocket. This was the first time I'd been alone, without someone closely monitoring my ever move and confined........it was frighteningly exhilarating. I was paranoid of "them" chasing me down, somehow--someway. My legs felt slow to respond; I'd been confined for that length of time with no exercise. A car turned the corner towards me. Was it one of them? I turned into an alley....anything, to keep out of view. Another two blocks and I spotted railroad tracks that crossed over a river.....I followed the railroad tracks, no car could follow. On the other side was a commercial strip with a denny's restaurant. I went in and reached into my pocket for the change and made a collect call to headquarters. The receptionist, Adele, answered the phone and when I told her my name, she accepted the collect call immediately. Everyone there was praying for me. I was on the prayer list in the OSC prayer room. She put me thru to Howard Allen. He told me to stay put and an 8th corps guy in Iowa City would be there in fifteen minutes to pick me up and drive me to Des Moines to the limb to spend the night Day Ten: Monday, May 4th Flight to Headquarters In the morning, my flight was around 8:30am and headed to Dayton......and there was my fiancé waiting for me, with tears streaming down her face. Twi's security guys, linder and brooks, were there to take us to hq. ~~~~~~~~~ Seven years passed before I saw my parents again.......to begin the slow process of any semblance of reconciliation.

Day Eight: Saturday, May 2nd Intervention: Family Time Saturday morning was "family intervention"......bringing the family back together. My dad, my mom and me.....the "counselor" went to great lengths to build the strength of the family, our family, why its so important. He encouraged openness.....trying to get each of us to open us together. Dad? Mom? what would you like to say? How do you feel? Then me.....what do you think? It was a whole morning of parents/child reconciliation. A deep dive into thought-provoking realities and relationships. The afternoon session was softened even further. We walked outside.....looked around the backyard a bit. Spending time with dad. Spending time with mom. Spending time together......then supper, together. A nice meal. The turmoil that was racing thru my mind.......it seemed as if I'd crossed into a rubicon of different dimensions. I'd stopped thinking about the corps program, or wierwille, or twi........it was about the essence of relationships, the essence of humanity. About me. I had given my heart to my fiancé. Our lives together. This was bigger than the cult.....this was my life, wanting to be with her. Wherever she was. At times, the blurred realities of cult structure and cult culture.......maybe I didn't even understand it myself. Maybe I'm deeply confused. It was so deeply personal. I'd woven all these memories into my heart with this woman, who happens to be in twi.......maybe, all this "spiritual" stuff isn't all that "spiritual?" How did all this get so complicated? And now.....this intervention? Was I now supposed to doubt the very essence of love that I felt in the depths of my heart? I pondered.....into the night.....searching into the deep crevices of my heart. This intervention was more than them trying to break my allegiance to twi. To me, it had forced me into the abyss of my soul. This was......the deep, "searching to the bottom of the ocean's floor".......who am I and what do I want.

One more update on this - I watched episodes 5 and 6 last night of Leah Remini's expose on Scientology. They covered two interviews from former Sea Org members. One had set the standard in "Auditing" - in Scientology there are required ongoing interviews paid for by the attendee meant for people to advance to new levels of "enlightenment". The Way doesn't have "audit sessions" with a makeshift lie detector device like Scientology. What the Way has is called "grilling sessions". At least practically. They don't have any formal training for this, but it is something that all Corps are trained up in by example. You go through "grilling sessions", which are pretty similar to what I saw on the audit sessions with a leader trying to get you to confess to some imaginary crime, questioning commitment, etc.. If that's the standard of behavior that is normal you have to go through, then you unconsciously imitate it when handling life with those in the organization underneath your leadership influence. There is an account of a "grilling session" on this thread - outandabout on one of his New Year's Eve posts details a "grilling session" by Lally0. This type of thing is so very common in the Way.

Wow - after listing out all those bullet points, I just had an epiphany - where the outreach of the Way is going / has gone / is becoming. I had always wondered why so few of what I would term "quality" people would become interested in the ministry and stick around. The "quality" people were those who would normally be considered by society as stalwarts in a community - stable, financially secure, good home and family life. We always seemed to be reaching those basically one step away from homelessness. I'm sure the BODummies have extended meeting discussions about this exact thing. And that they are still clueless on this. "Quality people" were driven away by common sense. Because they already had financial stability, good families, and support systems around them, this all-encompassing love-bombed cult experience didn't have the same appeal. No, that was left to those life's story had treated a bit more harshly. Those who needed daily attention. Those who needed assistance in making basic life decisions. Those who really wanted a leader to tell them specifically what to do every day. Most financially secure have a mortgage on a home/property to incur long-term advantage with equity. They aren't inclined to sell their houses and give $$$ away Many times running classes became an exercise in managing calamity in the lives of students with this type of background and mindset. "Is this all bad?" is the question that lingers. Of course genuine Christian service is to help the less fortunate. But if you look overall picture at the Way, or at an organization called "Narcanon" which is run by Scientology, there is an overall funnel they direct people into, with steps every way to lose more and more of your own identity. Take this class, censor reading, take the next 2 classes, serve on crew, go to HQ for Advanced Class, do the outreach program, go in leadership program, give away your life. The amount of micromanagement and control introduced will ensure that very few if any well-balanced, free-thinking individuals will stay in the organization for an extended period of time. People become a means to the end of power for these cults and leaders. The bond held by the controlled mind is a bond of fear. It must constantly be reinforced, checked, micromanaged. Bonds made by the uncontrolled mind are free to be bonds of love.

Comparison and contrast are always such personal things. There are similarities and differences between the Way and Scientology. The main difference I see is the method. What is believed, taught. The means I see are remarkably similar, the ways to control people. The means are what we never discussed in the Way. It was always implied behind-the-scenes tactics. This actually is a great first place to start to detect cult behavior, where a good deal of the expectations placed upon the individual are unwritten ones. Similar people control methods that I can see .... Intense involvements in classes Strict policy in classes - high involvement, many hours, time, money invested 2.5 hours a day being a "good Scientologist" or "good follower" Daily schedule Early prayer and study - "lift lists" - all leadership and the ministry Study - Put aside all other reading material - study classes and collaterals Witnessing - 2x2 accosting people in malls late night, door to door like the JW's, outreach "events" to put together classes in a weekend Meetings - 3x per week minimum as opposed to 1x or 2x for church minimum. Classes - always something to run people through. These are the artifacts of the organization Crews - "service" is always emphasized, and especially "Adv. Class Grads" - whatever free time you did have should be volunteering Programs - "spiritual elite" - eventually over time, many / all will be talked into this Behavior is modified and controlled through doctrine Caste system formed by class and program attendance (Grad., Int. Grad, Adv. Class Grad, WOW vet, Corps) Friendships formed at the same caste level - leads to life decisions Corps marry Corps, AC grads similar, etc. Hate for technology/internet - censorship of reading material HQ technology 20 years behind Only advancement is into Search Engine Technology - to hide criticism of group Members encouraged to "stay off internet" Sea Org / Way Corps Forced abortions or leave the org Marriage and Family of less importance Rules against marriage related to caste system Rules against pregnancy Rules against pets Unwritten rules showing true commitment No coaching kids sports and missing the STS Extreme dissent detecting tactics Political "assassinations" of rivals Abusive behavior by top leadership Screaming/cursing Demotions and punishment assignments Probation as a punishment threat/tool Shunning Hyper-intensified paranoia of top leader singling out any imagined slight or resistance All standing in org is totally framed by this paranoia People's lives are ruined for the slightest little thing Borderline poverty level salaries for Staff "Management" salaries for Pres. Cabinet - $80-90k - rural town - many buy houses in New Knoxville or surrounding areas paying cash Ultimate golden handcuffs - org success, financial stability College options for kids - Bowling Green University - can attend on Pell grants for free because of poverty level parents salary Kids avoid debt and running afoul of policy Wow, and I thought there would be a few bullet points at max.

(((krys))).........I know you deeply understand. When you posted on 7/14/2008 -- I got a sense of your deep pain. I included your post on page 1......on this thread. It was that important. That year, 1998, the escalation of those events, my exiting from twi .....was the other bookend. The first bookend was my 10 day captivity. The second bookend was the 1998 advanced class sex scandal....and my final decision to exit. Between those two dramatic "bookends" ...... were the books, the unfolding chapters of my cult experience. And.....thanks for your deep sentiment, "We can wait." You, of all people, know this oh-so-well. For all.... there's a great book out there that's related reading (while you wait on me).....a great read.......Undertow. .

Sideswiping The Iceberg Sitting in that corps meeting, it was clearly apparent that we'd scraped the iceberg. My wife and I listened to martindale sound the alarm, but cautioned us from panic. Yes, there would be a sideswiping of every corps' salary beginning March 25, 1998, but the trustees wouldn't be held accountable for this series of errors. Had others cautioned them? Couldn't anyone, anyone at all, summon the prospect that there'd be danger in these icy waters.....traveling at this speed, at night? My tie was already loosened as I sat there listening to martindale. Maybe, to him, a ten percent cut was reasonable and justifiable, but when you go thru your monthly budget to determine your "need-basis" living......how do you square that with a ten percent cut? And further, the accumulative burden of the bribery letter and the gift-policy mandates AND.......NOW, this cut? I slapped my pen on the table. My wife stared over at me.....I didn't care. I stood up, took off my sports jacket (yeah, by now....I'd stopped wearing a suit to this two-person, conference call) and hung it on the back of my chair and plopped back down. The days of taking detailed pages of corps notes had passed......they'd fax us the long-form policy within a couple of weeks. Yes, it was personal......it was MY life. Just like six months ago, when Peggy died and the funeral that followed. And, like when I went alone to see the movie, Titanic. The happenstance of life's series of decisions, actions, and emotions affecting loved ones and others rippling out to the future......and decades later, rippling back haunting one's past. Disrupting one's sleep. Peggy was dead....she had come to Oklahoma to run a twig fellowship, lured in knowing that she'd be helping rod and jo mart!ndale, craig's parents. Every decision along the way led to this outcome of Peggy's death in my state. Not just one thing, but the connectivity of it all. Just as everyone aboard the Titanic was connected.... as corps, being sideswiped by "the money iceberg." The titanic struggle was at our doorstep......

Welcome higherground30 - your story is awesome. It highlights so much of the human struggle all of us have gone through similarly getting out of the Way!!!! NZ and Mij@l - met the guy a few times, outside the context of his little fiefdom. Perfect epitome of The Way - whitewashed, normal looking on the outside, and sycophant Pharisee swinger on the inside. One interesting twist there - in NZ unlike the US Trunk, the money all stayed in country. Instead of a budget of 75% to HQ and 25% remain in area, 100% of all of those finances were controlled by the head sycophant Ad@ms. So getting rid of all the non-ABS'ing people - that's a little different twist, but totally self-serving. The "tithe purge". It's hard to be a poor pastor surviving off a small congregation - need to get more mileage and moolah out of these folks. So sorry for your fractured family ties at the moment, but am happy for your freedom. Freedom is one thing that's totally worth the purchase price.

Could this be the first record posted to gsc of someone's ordeal with deprogramming? Hope you're keeping your peace as much as possible as you recall and set it out in type. Again, Skyrider, thanks for sharing your story.

Right. Not a fundamentalist cult. But the social and emotional dynamics are still very similar.

When I met with wierwille weeks later, and described the sequence of these events and the dramatic turning point on day 6.....he said, yep that was the right thing to do in the situation. The intensity built and built.....and, "God was working in you to get thru this. This kind of stuff is there in the scriptures, son." Day Seven: Friday, May 1st Softened Intervention: Dad Arrives Everything changed......I ate breakfast and showered. No long sessions on cult indoctrination or thought reform. My mom spent about an hour with me......and told me that dad was on his way. He'd be there by before supper. The whole day was systematically designed to start building the parent/family relationship back into proper order. The deprogrammers were setting the stage to wrap this thing up. IMO.....they'd put in the time, done their job, pocketed the money......and were ready to go to the next intervention. It was Friday.....it'd been a long week. I was given a couple of books to read...if I wanted. My dad arrived around 3:30 - 4:00pm.....I remember this, because after our initial awkward greeting.....we ate supper. I think its a Midwestern thing......supper (dinner) is served around 5:00 - 5:15pm. [Wasn't that the way it was done at hq?] After supper, we again......stepped out on the back patio. It seemed like they were "extending my leash" and allowing me more gradual freedom.....monitoring my actions, reactions, and progress. Any psychologist would probably be able to label all the baby-steps, the labels, the reasoning..... That night, the intervention was movie night. It was gently suggested to me to sit between my dad and mom during the movie. We watch Rio Grande......starring John Wayne. You can never go wrong with a John Wayne movie.......even something my dad would like. I refused to cop an attitude with my parents. The conflicts were raging from side to side in my mind.........twi or my family? my future or my past? My parents were doing all of this for me? How many other parents would go to these lengths to help their child? Spend this money? Fight this hard? Go thru this emotional hell for a son in his mid-twenties? When I went to the bedroom, I was convinced what choice I was going to make. I knew the pain it would cause. I could only imagine the hurt and heartbreak that it would heap upon my parents.....and me, for a long, long time. Probably, a chasm that would exist for the rest of our lives. It was absolutely heart-wrenching......and yet, as soon as this ended, I was going back to my fiancé......my future. I knew I'd come to a crossroads.....and I couldn't have both. I chose my fiancé....and thus, twi. .

Day Four: Tuesday, April 28th The Intervention The deprogrammers were looking for ways to break my allegiance to twi, the cult. Mid-morning, my brother (the one who'd been in Gunnison)......came into the bedroom. He implored me to stop fighting, to listen. I hadn't shaved in days, my hair was a mess, no shower.......I'm sure my body odor was not pleasant. I refused to eat. Over two hours.....and my own brother was urging me, confronting me, telling me that if its my fiancé.......they'd pay to help get her out, too. The emotional toll was purely agonizing. Childhood memories, sports, hunting........why was I staying in this cult? My brother was thoroughly disgusted when he left the room. He left...headed home. Long drive home. The afternoon session was more on wierwille. Cult leader, deceiver, predator..... The woman deprogrammer was not there the whole day. Maybe, to her motel room or office? Maybe, meeting with other parents to set up a deprogramming intervention? At times, with 5 or 6 guards, 3 deprogrammers, 2 homeowners, and 2-3 other people coming and going.....it started to be a blur of activity. I have no memory of this evening......I don't remember any intervention session after supper. Day Five: Wednesday, April 29th The Intervention By now, my stomach was growling every couple of hours. I was refusing to eat and hadn't had a bowel movement in several days. As best I remember, a local pastor came by to "counsel me." The deprogrammers were looking for any method, any strategy to break my allegiance to twi. The pastor would go to passage after passage and read me scriptures. Often, I'd quote the verse to him.....as he would finish reading a verse. In a mocking sort of way, I found it amusing. He didn't quite know what to make of me. He never said it, but I think he was dumbfounded how much scripture I knew. Maybe he thought I was like a moonie or one of those really strange cults. No.....I was in the way ministry, I told him. This afternoon is a blur/blank in my memory. I think the woman deprogrammer came back......they were tag-teaming me. Each trying different methods and techniques. Sometimes, "good cop/bad cop" strategy. I really started going introvert by now. My brain was shutting down. My stomach ached. I was on a hunger strike....in defiance and possibly, would need to be taken to the hospital I ran scripture thru my mind, as best I could.......and collapsed into sleep. Day Six: Thursday, April 30th Drastic Intervention: Mom Arrives Guards at the bedroom door, still. I hadn't showered in days. My mom arrived around 9am.......and pleaded with me to eat. I had staked my defiant flag in the ground for many days now.....and was not about to stop. It was gut-wrenching standing toe-to-toe with my own mother. How could I relinquish my allegiance? my love for the scriptures? leave my fiancé? It was more than just my allegiance to twi........my fiancé, my corps friends, my time at hq, I was intertwined into so many relationships and experiences. This wasn't just some weird cult selling flowers on a street corner........we went deep into biblical research and everything. Hebrew & Aramaic. How could she, my mother, possibly understand the world I was living in. She left the room......and about 15 minutes later, she came in with a bowl of oatmeal. Four of the thug-guards followed her. They held me down and force-fed oatmeal down my throat. I thrashed my head back and forth. I struggled on and on. My mom and others telling to me to stop fighting,.....it seemed to last ten minutes, but it wasn't. The big guy gripped my head tightly, and my jawline......I kept trying to grit my teeth....but as my mother started crying, deeply.......I gave in. I stopped fighting, opened my mouth.....and swallowed the food. Those four of five minutes of intense, guttural, emotional anguish....and hurting my mother to her core.....has haunted me for decades. My mother who, in so many ways had all the same qualities of most rural farm-wives (and mothers).......would go to such lengths of intervention to help her youngest son, brings throngs of hurt and remorse to my soul. For years......and often during the holiday times, I was haunted by these memories.....of what I did, what I put my own mother thru to try and save me from myself. If I pondered it too much, deep into the night.......I'd go into this deep, sobbing, rhythmic anguish, this very dark hole. That afternoon......the man deprogrammer came in. Less intense. About an hour or so. Then, my mother came in and we spent some time together. I decided for my mother's sake......to shower, shave and eat the dinner meal at the table. Concessions were made.......and my mother sat next to me at the table. After supper, we stepped outside on the back deck. I breathed in fresh air. Guards stepped outside too......stationed some thirty feet away in case I decided to bolt. I was extremely tired after the meal, the long day......the emotional turmoil.

Day Three: Monday April 27th The Intervention Thugs on guard duty.....deprogrammer guy came in around 7:30am. They'd let me sleep in a little longer. I didn't want to be there. Another morning started in defiance. Back and forth jabs, until he left for awhile. When he came back......I was told if I didn't eat, then things were going to get rougher. Things started intensifying and a thug entered.....a scuffle broke out, and I reach for a chair. Another thug came rushing in and they held me down. The deprogrammer left the room.....and quickly, two more thugs came in. They took out the chairs, the little night stand, dismantled the bed frame and left only the mattress on the floor. It remained that way the rest of the time I was there. Things were escalating, intensifying. No longer was I allowed to use the bathroom If I had to pee......there's the bucket. Nope. I refused to eat lunch. The whole afternoon session was on thought reform and the psychology of totalism. The bedrock principles by these deprogrammers to help free people from cults -- came from Robert Lifton. Hour after hour, they went over loaded language, confessions, weird stuff in other cults Another ninety minutes into the evening.....and they left me alone. My stomach growled some as I lay in bed. I hadn't eaten since Saturday morning. Another night of restless sleep......and no deep sleep.

Day Two: Sunday, April 26th The Deprogrammers Arrive: The Intervention Begins I had been awake for over an hour and laying there in bed.......before a designated thug asked me about breakfast. I told him, no.....I wasn't going to eat. I wasn't hungry. They brought me a plate of food anyways.....brought in two chairs and the plate was put on one chair. I let it set there until it was cold. The defiant attitude was to show my utter contempt for kidnapping me against my will. Confrontation back and forth until these two thugs left me alone. They were there to guard me until the deprogrammers arrived. Around 9am...(not sure, no longer had a watch or clock in room)....I told them I wanted to take a shower. I just wanted a hot shower to help wash the anxiety away. Something. Anything. To have my own space. I also wanted my clothes back.....and my wallet. Damn it. Again, when I showered.....the door was ajar. I took a long shower....getting more agitated by the minute. When I stepped out of the shower and threw on my jeans and shirt.....in a fit of rage, I tried to break the bathroom mirror with the hanging light fixture in the corner. I don't really know what I was thinking.....I was just lashing out at something. Maybe break the mirror and use a shard to cut someone. But the light didn't crack the mirror.....but the commotion sent two thugs rushing in and we wrestled until the three of us tumbled into the hallway. I tried to throw a punch, but was quickly overpowered and another thug joined in. Twisting, struggling, grappling, kneeing......obscenities, the whole works. Now, I'd got their ire up.........but they were paid to "stay in control of the situation." They couldn't throw punches, but I could. I was lugged back to the bedroom, to the floor. Waiting for the deprogrammers........they left me alone. Two guys outside the bedroom door....kept peering in, watching me. Close to noon, the deprogrammers....three arrived. Two seemed to be more dominant, the third one......an understudy learning the art of deprogramming. The woman had worked alongside Ted Patrick for a couple of years......until the legal pressure that mounted and followed Patrick's practices, and she separated from him. The other guy was more into the psychological side of dislodging people from cults. This Sunday afternoon, they tried easing into this intervention.......parents are worried, why are you abandoning them, the cult is not your family, etc. Later in the week, I learned that Robert J. Lifton and his works were their guiding methods. By supper time, they offered to grill me steak, anything I wanted......just ask. I refused. I viewed it as them trying to soften me up and drop down my guard. If I softened and gave in to any of it, I would go down in spiritual defeat. Another couple hours in the evening, lots of stuff on wierwille. Many of accounts of wierwille raping wow girls, other accusations......I didn't believe them. They were liars. These deprogrammers were the enemy.......spiritually coming after me. Those were my thoughts. That's what I remember hearing from Barry Hill.&nb

Day One: April 25th The Abduction I had gone out to the Camp Gunnison gate at 6:40am......looking forward to being with my parents and brother. I wanted to be a little early just in case they arrived early; I knew that things about twi made them a little uneasy, so I certainly didn't want them to have to pull in and find me somewhere on grounds. Besides,.....being 10 minutes early was "corps time" and 20 minutes early was "I can't really believe they're here" time. I glanced at my watch, it was within the 10-minute mark....a couple minutes later they pulled up to the gate. My brother got out of the front passenger side, got in the back seat with my mom. I sat in the front seat and dad drove us into town. Looking back.....I subconsciously remember some of the uneasy body language, my mom's silence in the back seat, the reason why I was motioned to sit up front with dad and not in the back seat with mom. We ate at a local breakfast/pancake restaurant. My dad encouraged me to "order big"......so I did. The hungry man's breakfast, or whatever it was called.....full plate, the works. The conversation moved quickly with lots of questions about Gunnison, what I did on weekends,....pretty normal stuff. My mom asked about my clothes and wanted to be sure that they bought me some things before dropping me back at the campus. Still was a little early for store openings......so, let's just stop back at the motel room for a little bit. Okay, that sounds good. Their motel room was on the first floor with an outdoor entrance. No going inside the lobby or down a hallway. We pulled up near the door, got out......my brother unlocked the motel room door and motioned me to enter. Two guys had rushed behind me, pushed me in the room and ..........WHOOMP.....within seconds, four guys were on top of me, I struggled violently as two guys worked to handcuff my hands behind my back, one guy had a pillow over my head to muffle my shouting, another guy with his knee on my upper thighs holding onto my legs. My brother kept telling me over and over...."they aren't going to hurt you, stop fighting it." My mom was nearly wailing with cries of anguish seeing my violent struggles. Within three or four minutes.......my hands were bound behind my back, my legs at the knees were duct-tapped, my ankles tied, and I was gagged and blind-folded. A fifth guy, the driver of the cargo van, was the lookout.....and told them it was "clear" (no one walking by to see the abduction).....he swung the two back doors open (I heard the sounds, couldn't see it), they hauled me out and put me in the van and sped away. Even though I was blind-folded, I knew we were headed east. I could slightly see from the edges of my blind-fold the shadows registering the sun's light. Two guys hovered over me and pushed me to the floor....anytime I struggled. The gag was removed from my mouth after about 40 minutes into the drive. I yelled obscenities at them. I was pi$$ed off and fighting mad. Obviously, they were being paid to deliver me to the deprogrammers unharmed...... it was most likely a contractual agreement between my parents, the deprogrammers and the thugs. Later, I found out that we were headed to the Wichita area, but throughout the drive laying on the floor, I spotted grain elevators with the names of small Kansas towns. These guys were taking the secondary highways all the way in.....to a rural home where "the intervention" would take place. I believe the name was DeVos......the resident's homeowner. Their daughter had been in twi and they paid to have her deprogrammed. To help others, they had made their home available for other deprogrammings. I think I was the last one at their house.....for reasons which will become obvious. Anyways, it took nearly eight hours to get there. Along the way, when I shouted at them and later, needed to pee......they found an isolated turnoff spot. Since I was bound, and they wouldn't untie me [deathly afraid that I'd outrun them and be gone.....my parents told them that I had been in sports all my life]......they gave me a bucket to pee in. Since my hands were handcuffed.....one guy unzipped my pants, and held my penis while I peed. [I still can't believe this happened!!!] I mocked him as I peed. They urinated outside, by the van. Lovely. We stopped a second time. Same routine. All of this, of course.....to not raise any unwanted suspicions by fellow-travelers. We arrived at the farm house around 4pm or so.....I was tracking time by the sun's altitude by the sliver of sight thru my blind-fold. They unbound my ankles and knees, walked me inside with these five-thugs. Once inside, my hands behind my back were unbound. The house was one-story, sprawling with most-likely four bedrooms, three baths....and a deck out back. I was led to a back bedroom.....plain and non-descript, only a bed and nightstand with lamp. There were ten to twelve people moving around the house....and learned later, the deprogrammers would arrive tomorrow [Sunday afternoon]. I was instructed to attend dinner [big table--probably 10 seats].......and did so, only because I wanted to survey "the lay of the land" rather than stay confined in a bedroom. Thugs were positioned by front door and two guys near the sliding glass door to the deck out back. I didn't eat. I didn't talk. I watched intently and listened......documenting everything sequentially into my memory, because I knew that twi would want a report of this. I was behind enemy lines. My attention was riveted. Later, that night....I took a shower, the bathroom was across the hallway near this bedroom. The door handle had been removed.....they didn't want me locking myself in the bathroom. Two guys stood near the bathroom door.....left it ajar. I couldn't lock it. No privacy. The thugs seemed exhausted from the day. While I showered, all my clothes were taken away as was my wallet, my watch, and the corps nametag I had in my pocket [I'd taken it off at the gate at camp Gunnison....put it in my pocket, because I thought it would help ease our time together at breakfast.] . New clothes were given to me. New pajamas were on my bed. They were stripping me of my corps/twi identity. And, tomorrow.....the deprogrammers would drill down into this intervention. It was long past midnight before I fell asleep. I rehearsed the day's events thru my head before exhaustion pulled me into sleep. The bedroom windows had been secured; two thugs sat just outside my bedroom door throughout the night....guarding me from escape. It was a restless sleep. I'd heard the stories of Barry Hill (7th corps) and others...who'd gone thru these deprogramming episodes. Now, I was in one of my own. Sh!t.......I should have seen it coming.

Oh, and WELCOME to the cafe. Enjoy this one on me while we have a yarn:

Higherground, I am most interested in what you have to say about TWI-NZ. I'd love to know where some people are, what they are doing now... There were some good folks and some real horror stories. If Allan is Public Enemy No.1, I might be No.2. Maybe we know each other, but probably not. PM me, please :)

Camp Gunnison: April 24, 1981 The sun was shining and my parent and one brother arrived at Camp Gunnison. They had stopped at the front gate and their arrival quickly reached Tom Jenk!nson. Within minutes, I was notified that my parents and brother were on grounds. Of course, this visit was an interruption to twi's campus that saw few visitors on weekends....much less on a Friday afternoon, uninvited. I greeted them warmly and, somewhat puzzled......but hey, they were my parents. My dad said that they'd been in Denver and decided to make the drive to Gunnison to see me. Tom J. greeted my parents and brother with a handshake and simple conversation. Arlene came around the corner......and she, too, greeted them. A few other corps gathered and more introductions. This was unusual though......corps parents just stopping in to see their son. It was a rarity......I don't remember seeing it at all during my in-residence training. As my parents looked around, the conversation veered to small talk about the many cabins, the lodge, the Gunnison river running adjacent the property line, the fishing........for about 25 minutes. When my dad asked to take me out for supper in Gunnison, I looked over at Tom J. and he said, "You know, we've got a class tonight......how about breakfast in the morning?" My dad, taken back a bit, paused......and relented, said, "Alright, how about we pick you up at 7 in the morning? By that gate area?" I looked at Tom and he nodded. Seven o'clock in the morning it was. They got in their car and waved as they drove off. I would see them in the morning. My dad was always on time. .

Movie References: Injection One of the reasons why movies are so-riveting.......is because they give a stream of activity (week, month, year, life) in rapid succession hitting all the high points, drama, intensity, romance, action-thriller, etc). It's rapid pace helps us to escape the average, generally uneventful days of our lives. All of the mundane realities are skipped over. We desire to see the sequence, how it happened, why it happened, why it didn't happen.......rapid-fire action or high-drama romance......to a "tell your friends to go see it" movie end. The challenge in presenting this series of posts is.....it's slow moving. I am starting to re-live those memories.......the colors, the shadows, the voices,.....

Dancing to The Music: No Parents Allowed My parents were shut out of my world.....it felt good at the time. Exuberant youth was coursing thru my veins and I "had the need for speed" (yeah, I know --- Top Gun movie didn't come out until 1986 -- lol)......the faster, the better. Besides, every obstacle in the cult world made it hard to phone home. Even more so than the public phone in the lounge area of my college dormitory years before. At hq, there wasn't even that. The switchboard had to be the "gatekeeper of my personal life"......to connect me to "the outside world." [And, long before the days of cell phones......how did we ever live without them, gasp.] What concerns and alarms must my parents have thought about the strange switchboard/receptionist relay at emporia or hq? So, here is a rapid-fire background of my years before the deprogramming/intervention: 1979-1980.....Aug--began my interim year at hq ......................way builders/cabinet shop --- main project was osc, side jobs for trustee homes & conference rooms ......................major Christmas party at hq.......area believers waiters/waitresses / open bar ......................began courtship, fell in love, proposed and yes, even vpw announced our engagement at way builder cook-out ......................interim household branch assignment Jan-Mar was stringing chairs in the brc. ......................in Feb, my fiancé-to-be and I watched Ice Castles (1978).....(a movie of manipulation and dashed dreams....hmmm) ......................I made a cedar chest for bride-to-be in cabinet shop [Before the days of extreme micromanagement/legalism) 1980-1981.....Final year of 9th corps in-residence / In late Aug, took my fiancé home to meet parents (2 day visit?) ......................Fast-paced activity; in-rez study/work....Oversaw "Fitness for Living" dept. / Dept. mtgs / Ross Tr-acy---good man ......................Flew to hq on small plane w/ Don, Wanda, Emogene......one seat available, I took it to see fiancé during holidays ......................2nd Christmas in a row w/o going home to see parents ......................Jan-Mar....first block at hq That's why they call it ho-ho re-lo...../snarc ......................April 3 (?)----> ..next inrez block in Gunnison ......................April 24 Friday, my parents and one brother came to Gunnison for "visit" ......................April 25 Saturday.......the abduction .

Still on Pause: Prep Time As you see from the links, many GSC-posters have added different perspectives and lots of insight to spur on discussion. Many posters have moved on in life and no longer visit Paw's Café......but their pictures are on the walls all around. And to those posters still here....a significant amount of credit goes to them. Last night was a really tough night for me......the wave upon wave of memories shook me to my core. I haven't explored those deeply personal experiences of my 10-day captivity for over two decades.....not like that. I swore to have "thrown away the key." All the other timeline stuff is more accessible to my memory banks. I honestly thought I'd just skip the deprogramming episode, but now think that it's an integral part .... and perhaps, the central core....to exposing the cult. Another day or so....and I plan to "go to the depths of titanic on the ocean floor" to share it with you. .

Welcome to Grease Spot HigherGround30 ! Thanks for sharing your story. So funny you meeting someone who was in children of god cult – I find sometimes I can better process (whatever that means ) an experience I’ve had when I check out how someone else is handling their own…maybe it’s just healing when we really connect with others – like on Grease Spot – not like the homogenized alternate world of cults. Hopefully – down the road there may be some “hello again” with friends and families – and regrets over not saying proper goodbyes will fade away. A very strange thing happened to me the other day. My wife and I were looking over our DNA results from one of those ancestry services (verified none of my ancestors were from Krypton) and an old high school friend called. I turned off so many of my friends being the witnessing zealot that I was back then. He asked me if I was still in that “Christian thing”. I said “hell no” and told him I realized it was a cult and got out. I’m hoping he’ll share that with some of our old group of friends…we talked for over an hour and it was so sweet! And it meant a lot that he looked me up and he called me. Is that your coffee mug? – bring it over here and I’ll get you a refill

Thanks Waysider! Skyrider Thanks I was moved by alot of your posts I can only sympathise with you and can only imagine what you and your family went through during your time with twi. My other regret was not leaving soon enough but I had so much fear thanks to the twi brainwashing techniques used by twi.I too also lost spent time with my grandparents who called out twi for calling it a cult when they found out their oldest grandson was not allowed to stay with them.At the time my grandad had even called authorities on twi.Mice@l and other 'hierarchy' even went around their house to try and intimidate my grandparents!! But you know I try and put the past behind me as I only get bitter and think how good I have it now.Soo skyrider keep posting I can only say proudly I stand with you on alot of things A bit about NZ twi up to 2014 my knowledge Has up to 50 faithful people alot of these are families with children 6 fellowships and 2 branches 90% fellowships are run in Auckland one in Hamilton Very slow growth of people coming maybe one newbie who sticks around 6 months then disappears.Who can blame them?! The mindset/goals is to witness! witness! Get them taking classes get them to advanced class level but make sure that they abs!!money money or else get out! Lots of talent within the group from musicians,lawyers,teachers,nurses etc. Just wish alot of those within the group would wake up and see the big hyprocisy lies and deception 90% of those who are in Auckland they are all mostly based in East Auckland $$$ The group of 50 have been almost the same since the new millenium.So you can see everyone is quite tightnit.Even though everyone is getting alot older now I know alot of time is not being spent as much as before NZ Twi has alot of small cliques same people hang out with same group of people eg. Household function, discos and even travel together. Me and my mother speak I love her very much she knows that.We speak occasionally as she is my only real family.Sad part is you know she will be in it for life but I respect her wishes and she respects mine.Even though she says from time to time over the phone 'the door is still open' and I'm like no way I'm doing way better now and il be the first to slam that door on twi! Oh well if you have any questions GSC posters fire away I'd be happy to reply Cheers

1998 Jan/Feb: Monthly Meetings with Region Intensified Those monthly meetings with the region leadership were intensifying. More direct confrontation on why wap-class sign-ups were so dismal. Now, it took more preparation before going to Austin, TX or Little Rock, AR.....or when we hosted in OKC. We were lugging around our briefcases full of paperwork......ready to pull out select, filed reports upon request. On one occasion, in Austin......outreach in action was the focus, so Barb La1ly and I were paired to go witnessing together. In a moment of "weakness"......she had expressed to me the draining, exhausting effect of this heaping stress of thankless responsibility. Her knee was in pain....and, I think along with other things, it triggered all those thoughts of health, retirement, and security as one starts passing the prime of life. Was this for real? Was she really confiding some inner thoughts to me? I was just not sure.....the suspicion that perhaps she was setting me up, only to confront me......was hard to shake. I tucked that experience in my back pocket and kept moving. There it was again......that "genuine spiritual suspicion" doctrine that martindale railed on. It surfaced its ugly head over and again. Who could I trust in twi? In Dallas, at the Adv Class Special.....Don snapped at me. Donna barked at Linder....to make sure craig got out of bed. What about my region leaders? Why should I open up to them? Keeping one's head down and just "do the work" seemed like the sensible thing to do......

It was so interesting seeing the episode with Miscavage's father. How he was in the Sea Org, which has parallels to Corps. Watching his ex-wife and all of his sons testifying to Anderson Cooper in unison about his evils, then knowing that his taking a stand and whistleblowing on his own son resulted in him having no communication with his family to the point of not even knowing grandchildren are born. It was also interesting about the little gift that left to his demise. Miscavage gave his father a Kindle that didn't have the whispernet turned off. So his father could browse the internet, and he did. He was looking for all the accolades for scientology, because they had helped the world so much. He was shocked when he saw people's true testimonies, which led to him awakening, then leaving later. It was interesting how brainwashed he was and a good part of that was censorship. They cut off all information coming to them from the outside world, and simply lived on whatever was fed to them internally. After years and years of a constant borrage of framing a perspective, it becomes a norm.

I was just going to let this die a natural death. However....it is important for many of you to note the dates of these incidents. They were all in 1998...concerning my DIL - went back approx 5 years I think. Some of you may not realize this or get the full impact. You may be aware that these shenanigans went back to old doc vic's time....but didn't realize that lcm was also heavily involved. Granted 1998 is12 Years ago....but...how much would you bet that similar things occur to this day? Would you bet you daughter's life on it? Your wife's?

And yet, Paul M threatened to personally throw me off the top floor of Indiana Campus if I opened my mouth,when I told him my wife I & kids were leaving because of the adultery we saw going on at the campus !! can't say i love him for that

Krys, Thanks from the bottom of my heart for the truth and details in your account. I read in a book somewhere that people do not hide what is appropriate, they only hide what is inappropriate. And this is one in a whole series of stories of the inappropriate being hidden. Thanks for exposing it so those who wish to be informed can make decisions with more knowledge. I missed reading that on the benefits card for a Foundational Class under the "more harmony in the home" section - "use your wife as a sexual playtoy to be passed around, causing insurmountable psychological damage". Or on the prosperity section "have your belongings stolen and destroyed". Or on the believing and confidence section "be threatened with handguns by mooks for not going along with hotshots breaking laws, attempting bribes, and betraying spiritual authority". Did you ever find out from the DIL about how she was recruited for this? Or how the wrong doctrine was introduced to her? Did others condone the behavior and encourage her? King Okus just approach directly? Some of those details are the most hidden usually as they can prove collusion and collaboration. There are some stories of those in high places serving as pimps and what's the official court term "procurators" for these acts. It's amazing how deep the rabbit hole actually goes on some of this stuff.

The first 2 weeks after the kids returned home were relatively peaceful. I expected my son would take some time off - - he's was entitled IMHO. He had worked without benefit of vacation for almost 3 years and with all that happened so quickly that day, I would have been glad to float him and carry him for a month if necessary - - but he would have none of that. He manned the phone(s) for a couple of days, but on Monday he phoned his old boss. He became an excellent worker after he grew out of his middle teens. He was well skilled in his arena and willing to add to his skill set, he always had a pleasant manner about him, and he had grown to NOT become lazy. So - on Tuesday he had an interview and on Thursday morning reported for work. After that, every day he got up and went to work by day. When he came home he's man the phone(s) until bedtime. It payed off, though. I don't know how many he managed to get out of the organization...but I know most folks listened intently to his narrative. His wife, on the other hand, my beloved DIL, walked from room to room seemingly in circles. I wanted to grab her, physically wrap my arms around her and soothe her - but there was something about her demeanor that kept me at arms length. She kept the house looking good, shopped and cooked each night's meal, but wasn't able to do anything more than that. I wasn't expecting anything "more" in quantity certainly - for she had certainly been through the wringer too...but she was not able to do anything except that which she could do on autopilot. I tried showing her several times about the laundry machines....I know...a washer is a washer....and a dryer is a dryer...but we all know that they have their idiosyncracities and we can usually figure them out. She could not. She didn't even put it together that the washer's directions were written on the inside of the top lid! I don't want to put her down. I don't mean to make her look stupid or silly - - rather she was like one of those fish in the ocean that is stunned by a physical sound or some such other.......and they just hang there. She was truly shell-shocked I believe. You must understand that in no way am I attempting to put her down or take anything away from her. She was not the person I'd come to know - - and love. She was another personality altogether. Our son was still out son. He had grown up of course in the time since we’d seen him last, but he was still the same person - - not just more of a man. During the month of July, my son found an apartment, signed the lease and was ready to move in the beginning of August. My DIL did not go with him. Instead, she went to visit the “man on the bus” and lived with him for quite some time….I understand they were eventually married. I have no idea where they settled down to live. After those 2 weeks came the final insult! Their belongings from Gunnison were delivered. I told you that they had to rent a storage unit, and that mister liner drove the truck to our street right in front of our house and they led him to it. . As soon as possible after everything was brought to New Jersey, they collected the boxes and brought them to the house to look through them and sort. I wish you could have seen some of these cartons. The cardboard was weak and looked like it had been used and abused. Some of them weren’t even sealed, just closed over with that flap-inside-a-flap that we use sometimes when it’s only temporary storage. One of the boxes was very large – on the order of a large (for it’s time) TV perhaps. That one held all their heavy winter clothing. Nothing was folded. You know that when you put seasonal things away, you fold them wither you launder them or not….so that you can get more in the box and take care to cram the box as full as possible. None of these was taken care of in the slightest. Everything “winter” was crammed into this one box. Boots, coats, sweaters - - everything. Many things were missing. They both had the best quality hiking boots, only 1 boot made it’s way “home”. One of their superior “greater than 20 below” sleeping bags had gone missing. My DIL never had much costume jewelry. Her father always made an excellent living and consequently she had the “real stuff”! She found only 1 diamond stud (there were possibly 2 pair). Her jewelry box was no where around, but what was returned of her jewelry was just dumped into one of the boxes. [Ladies remember how carefully we always treated our chains so they wouldn’t kink?] They were anxiously waiting for their stuff because they wanted their computer. We had given them one for a combination birthday/anniversary/Christmas gift – and it was not cheap! [not like today, for sure] They were looking for their contact list and a number of other things they wanted to take another look at. They put the whole thing together and turned it on and nothing happened. No lights, no bumping pinging noises…..nothing. At first I thought perhaps somebody had forgotten to lock the disks (I don’t remember if that was still necessary at that time or not…but the thought ran through my mind) Of course, it was always possible that it had also been manhandled and did not make the trip well so we brought it down to the computer repairman downtown. He called within 2 hours of our dropping it off with the reason it wouldn’t operate - - somebody had reformatted the hard drive. Not erased everything…..reformatted everything. If you’re reading and don’t know that much about computers, reformatting wipes everything off the disk. Erasing it still allow it to “remember” that it was a computer- - - please now install my software so I can do something useful for you. This box didn’t know if it was a computer or a refrigerator! As if that wasn’t bad enough, even the software that had come installed on their computer came with a hard copy set. Microsoft Office was a $400+ program then. There were other programs we or they purchased and used, but I don’t recall anymore what they were. Now - - it makes sense to me that somebody would do that.. Instead of hunting around and looking for files that you don’t want duplicated anywhere - - especially your list of contacts, just set the thing on format and you don’t have to worry about doing any thing more - - it will carry out your last command while you go and finish ransacking their stuff! Their monitor and printer arrived intact but none of their computer supplies did. [None of their other office supplies either….not even a roll of scotch tape - or a single staple.] We knew they had office and computer supplies galore because we kept them well stocked. When you have to live on $1 a day, you ask your family and friends to send you such stuff for birthday and other gifts just so you can come out even! After the second week in August, when my son moved into “their” apartment [about 4 blocks away from this very place coincidently], I never saw my beloved DIL again. I still miss her - - at least the young woman she was. My son moved out. He took some of our “extra” furnishings and incidentals and their stored wedding gifts and began his new life. Why was all of this so hard on me? I don’t know. It didn’t really happen to me - - but it hit me so very hard. I don’t know how you who were, indeed, physically and otherwise abused managed to keep it so “together” today. Maybe it has to do with it happening to our kids. You know – I don’t mean to take anything away from you who also endured, but I wonder - - - you can do whatever you want to me and I’ll figure out a way to survive and endure it…….but if you touch one of my kids, I’ll go for your throat and have your bowels for lunch [figure of speech!]. Maybe that’s what it is. I do know this, however…………… When you’ve been **** e d by the Way, you’ve been through and through and throughly f**ked!

What a legacy from a so-called Christian minister. VP started this. He taught it to Loy. So those of you that sit at your computers and smugly shrug and say, "Huh... I had a good time and learned some mightee fine Baaah-bull," should consider that the seedy underbelly of that teaching involved the carnage of souls, the dismantlement of marriages and the strip mining of families. ...and to the "victoid" went the spoils.

Thanks you abi; now I see. Yes it takes a long time to recover from something like this. I know I'm not finished healing from it. It turned my husband off God completely. My son tried to reconcile with his wife but they just couldn't get it together after this. It wasn't a matter of trust, my son says his (then) wife had her whole head so twisted around by all this, that it seemed to him she couldn't consistently continue with rational thoughts and processes. Even as much as 2 months afterwards, she was still roaming around from room to room thinking she was on vacation somewhere. It wasn't real to her that she needed to start looking in the paper for a job. She just could not get it together. They found a small apartment not too far from where we lived, and they went off to see it. They took separate cars because she was going to look in on her mother afterward (so she said) but she was not seen again (by him)! Shortly after this, she went home to our house and packed her things while I was at work and lived with her mother for quite a while. Her father told my son to let her go - - she was so much like her mother - - and who else would know? It took a long long time for him to start coming out of it. I think he recovered faster than I did. Now, he's remarried to a wonderful young woman who really loves him. He makes an excellent living and really enjoys his life.

I think some of those guys who took the bait.. vic STILL owns them, even from the grave..