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Saturday, 22 December 2012
25 Years of Scn - TWIN A PDF Print E-mail
Personal Stories - Sea Org
Part 5


Oh, almost forgot, info on my little brother: My little brother was not "hooked" by Dianetics, he was hooked by other things... little did he know, that he'd be following me into an adventure that would never leave him the same again [Outer Limits Music] :spacecraft:

Now for Part FIVE:

In 1982, prior to the summer, I worked part time at Steven's Creek and sometimes full time on the weekends. I was kept busy with Mimeo, answering phones, and errands for various people. My little brother worked in Div 6 as an OCA test grader. There were so many people filling out free personality tests, that my little brother had tons to do making the graphs for these and keeping the files up to date, etc. I got invited to staff meetings and partys. The FOOD was great! I was in a perpetual state of wanting to eat, so I loved the free food. Marcy Garrett, The ED's communicator, told me that if I ever had to do an "all nighter" that I could have some of the Hansen's sodas she had stock piled near the bookstore's book stocks. I said, what's an "all-nighter"? She didn't really answer me, but I was about to FIND OUT [VERY LOUD JAWS MUSIC, LIKE THE SHARK IS GETTING EVEN CLOSER]

One morning, think it was Saturday, I saw my first Sea Org Missionaire. It was Janadaire from the Commodore's Messenger Organization International. I had no idea what that was. I'd gotten a recruit letter from Mike Sutter at Commodore's Messenger Organization Clearwater, and I wrote back to him that I'd love to become a "Commodore", but I had to finish High School first. He never wrote me back. I misspelled and mispronouned Janadaire's name when she first called into Steven's Creek, and ALL the other times she called into Steven's Creek. Boy, when she arrived, she was mad that no one had returned her calls or answered her phone calls. The people she spoke to all said they didn't know SHE'd called, as if they WOULD have if they'd known it was HER! I brought out my phone logs to defend myself. There she was; Janna Dare, Janet Air, Jen Adare. I even had a pink piece of paper, a phone message I'd sent to the Chf Reg I think, where she'd brought back the little pink message slip with this written on it, "who the f___ is Janet Air? Please find out next time she calls!" Janadair (I'm probably not spelling it right now!) didn't get mad at me, but she did seem annoyed. She'd spelled her name out on the phone for me. I didn't know I was tone deaf at the time, or I could have given her that excuse d's and t's sound the same. I just kind of shrugged. I dont think she really thought that much of me, I didn't impress her right out of the starting gate.

I didn't see her around much, she sent around some surveys. I helped her put them in the various comm baskets. I didn't get one. Then she did some "briefings" that I wasn't invited to and she left. She was much classier than the Sea Org Missionaires I would later meet, her navy uniform seemed better quality and she didn't smoke cigarettes, but she also seemed kind of stuck up, well to me anyway. Oh I did see her do something that made me curious, I saw her using one of the phones at Steven's Creek to make a phone call. I thought I heard her say, "this line is clicking...", then she disgustedly, but calmly as if it was a boring everyday occurance, put the phone down and left. I was kind of concerned, since I handled phones and such. I had the phone and I was listening to the handset and wiggling the wire to see if the clicking sound would go away. Marcy saw me and asked what I was doing. She had to explain to me that if there is a clicking sound in the background of your phone conversations, that it means that the phone is "tapped" and that someone is listening in like the FBI. Sheesh, why didn't I think of that. I never knew if that was true or not, why the heck would someone tap the phones at Steven's Creek?

==>I didn't know if back then, but many years later Janadaire and I would get closer, I'd even take a shower with her...|

... should I leave you hanging on that one? Well... I think I WILL clarify, only because if you read through all the parts of my story up until I get to where I'm on the RPF with Janadair and you read what REALLY happened, you'll be disappointed if you think it was some kind of scandalous hot girl on girl action. Sigh, NO, it was not. Shame on you if you thought that.

This little summer of '82 tidbit might seem kind of boring, but it's really a big part of me getting more and more attached to my new Scientology family : My brother got invited to a camping trip with the Div 6 staff and some other staff. I drove with him out to Pinnacles National Park. We hiked around all day with Randy Merill, Robin something, Ray something, some Scientology public and others whom I can't remember the names of.

There must have been at least 15 people. I recognized a few of the guys from the Academy. They were on a course that was called the "SRD" remember that? The Survival Rundown. At night, we roasted marshmallows, hung out by the firepit singing songs. One guy had a guitar, someone had drumsticks. I coudln't carry a tune, but I COULD sing that song that was big back then by Human League, because it's not really singing, it's kind of a monotonous drone --- my kind of song. "I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar.. when I met you.. You picked me up, you bla bla bla and put me where I am now... " the chorus went something like this--- (it was a duet, the guy sings the chorus mostly) "Don't you Want me Baby, Don't you want me Ohhhoh? You know I can't believe it when you say that you don't need me..." This was the first time anyone got me to sing out loud in front of others since I'd had to sing in the Christmas choir in elementary school. Oh and that was a traumatic experience.

My new camping buddies and I sang a bunch of Beetles songs too, that was fun. Robin and I danced some as we sang, pretending to be singers. I'd only ever done that with my best friend, actually not really, don't think I ever had done that. My first kind of karioki I guess and I wasn't drunk! Nobody corrected me or told me to shut up because I sounded awful. It was so cool. I felt loved and accepted. And the party didn't have drugs and drinking. No one snorting lines of cocaine off of an agate, or drinking until they did something moronic or puking, or other high school crap. They also told stories around the camp fire.

Sarkis Barthamian told me a story about how one of the people who's houses he went to during his door to door personality testing spree, was some kind of under cover militant. Sarkis looked Israeli, or no -- Iranian, I forget which -- and the guy invited Sarkis into his house and then pointed a shotgun at him, a rifle. He thought Sarkis was a secret spy out to get him. Sarkis got out of it by "using the tone scale" and getting the guy to drink himself under the table by pretending to drink vodka with him. I remember being impressed by this story and wanting to learn how to "use the tone scale" like Sarkis had in his moment of life and death emergency.

I went to the bookstore at Steven's Creek and I bought "How to Choose your People" by Ruth Minchell. It had kind of an animated tone scale on the front. I read it from cover to cover. I had a hard time understanding any of it. I never chose my friends, they chose me and I usually liked people who chose me. There wasn't anything in this book about how to deal with a confused/crazed person pointing a gun at me. I was disappointed, to say the least. Marcy saw me moping around the bookstore after I'd read it and I was trying to find a better book. She tried to cheer me up about it, she said "it wasn't written by LRH". We talked a little, we got on the subject of word clearing (she was suggesting I use wordclearing to help me understand the Science of Survival book because this had the REAL" tone scale" in it) and I said, "Oh yeh, I know about that, I word cleared my little brother on his OCA!"

I was proud of myself for helping my little brother out. Marcy got kind of a serious look on her face and she said, "Um, that's a HIGH CRIME" I was about to be introduced to the Scientology ETHICS system. [JAWS MUSIC]. She showed me in this bulletin that said that word clearing someone on the OCA questions was a HIGH CRIME. I was kind of mad, but I didn't know what to say. I thought it should be a High Crime to send my little brother home thinking that his OCA results meant his personality was screwed up and he was worthless. Who the heck went and told my little brother that his OCA was "all below the center line" and made my little brother cry? Why isn't that a HIGH CRIME? I guess Marcy saw me kind of glaring at her and so she shut the book she was showing me and said, "It's OK, you didn't know" and then she gave me some errands to do. Nothing like work to do to cheer me up!

My first "all nighter" and it was my fault. I'd taped some construction paper letters up on some of the walls of the Div 6 courseroom for one of the staff's birthday partys. I think it was Clay's party. And the construction paper left permanent stains in the paint. I had to work with Dennis Dove, the Estates mgr, or janitor, whatever the heck he liked to be called, and repaint the walls I felt bad for the mistake, messing up the paint on the walls, but I had fun learning how to paint and meeting Dennis. I took a liking to him and I volunteered to help him clean the mission at nights. I got to drink tons of Hansen's soda! Grapefruit was my favorite. Kept me going into the night! We'd do silly things like put the Academy drill dolls (a stuffed pink panther) into the CSs chair with a pencil and a fake folder for "bugs bunny" or into one of the Reg's offices with the phone stuck to it's ear. The Academy Supe might have gotten annoyed that the stuffed animal/drill dolls were going missing, but I didn't think of that, I just thought it was funny. Dennis loved my help, he was able to clean all the windows and shampoo the carpets with my help.

Later Dennis told me he'd gotten into "trouble" because of the stuffed animals. He had to apply "conditions" . The CS felt that his office should stay locked and that neither I nor Dennis should have access to all the folders at night. I remember thinking, who the heck did the CS think was emptying his trash and ashtray? and vacuuming his floor? all this time? I thought it was strange that all of a sudden Dennis was in "trouble" for opening the CSs office as if he'd just done it.

I tried to start my Student Hat in the Academy, but I'd just fall asleep, but because I was in the Academy at all, I was now prey for student auditors! I got volunteered to help Dawn Hutchison on her Academy Levels. She was a student auditor. So I picked up the cans for the first time. Dawn Hutchison did my Scientology CS 1. She showed me the cans, there was this huge wooden partition back then between me and the meter because I wasn't supposed to be able to see the meter or what the auditor was writing I guess and it doubled as a book holder. I'd slouch in my seat sometimes and throw my eyes out of focus a little and I'd imagine Dawn's head floating on top of the wood partition. It was funny. Dawn always had me rub my feet on the carpet before each session. I wondered if it was to build up static electricity so that the e-meter would work better. She said it was to warm up my feet and make me more comfortable, but how the heck did she know my feet were cold? by me putting my hands on the cans? Oh and she could tell when my hands were dry and/or cold and I needed lotion. She also could tell if I'd eaten enough even if I wasn't hungry. Amazing. I recalled that someone had told me that Bev Wimbush was an" OT 3" and that she could "read minds", I'd purposefully not think of anything when I was around Bev Wimbush. I thought maybe she was like Dr. Doolittle and if I was thinking too loud, I'd distract her from her very important work, whatever the heck she was doing.

I wondered if being able to read minds had something to do with the e-meter and maybe there was a way to find out stuff without using the e-meter eventually. I wished I could read my own mind. I had a lot of questions about the e-meter, but Dawn just wanted to "do the CS" and the CS (oh the guy who didn't like us putting stuffed animals into his office) would write a "CS" too which was a piece of paper and not a person. These were instructions to myself and Dawn of what we were supposed to do in our session. I was to read the definitions of Scientology and Dianetics terms and then repeat them back and use them in sentences until I had a "floating needle". Only I didn't get to see the needle to see if it was "floating", Dawn had to tell me for me. Sometimes I'd have to demonstrate with paper clips and such. It wasn't easy. I kept dozing off and I just couldn't understand why I had to hold the cans so that I could tell the e-meter, I understood something, to then have the emeter tell Dawn, so that she could then tell me that I understood something, why couldn't I just SAY I undertsood it? Wouldn't it be faster? Dawn seemed annoyed at times. She'd sigh and tap her feet. Was it at me?

Dawn and I finally got through the Scn C/S 1! and went onto another step. We got into an argument over my first "grades process" question. She'd said, "recall an effort". I recalled a time I made an effort. I'd tried to get my cat to stay in box for travel to the vet. She thanked me, but then told me to do the same thing! I was mad that she didn't like my first response and I had to do it again! She said that it was "the process", I had to keep doing it, and we'd see "what would happen". Darn that! I was mad. I said I wanted to know what she thought an effort was because I had it right and I shouldn't have to do it again! She said that I had it right, we word cleared it and we were cool on the definition. But I wanted to know why I had to recall ANOTHER effort then! She said a bunch of mumbo jumbo and I guess I sort of understood it, I was supposed to just "do the command" and "see what was going to happen". So she told me to do it again, "recall an effort". I couldn't think of anything and it made me mad. She'd just repeated the command as if it would help. I finally screamed at her and said, "Bill Ward said that there is no such thing as TRYING things, you DO things. I don't make efforts. I DO things. I don't make an effort to deliver newspapers, I DELIVER THEM. And I'm ALWAYS on time. I don't make an effort to get straight A's in school. I GET STRAIGHT A's. I don't make an effort to clean my room, I CLEAN my room. I don't make efforts!!!!!

Dawn tried to explain to me that an effort wasn't something I'd tried to do and failed. I don't have to think of things that I'd failed at, I could think of things that were just plane efforts. And I argued," but an effort is when you TRY to do something, it's when you don't actually DO it." No, she explained, that wasn't it. I was so confused! And I could feel the electricity in the cans, my hands were starting to go numb, did she have the thing cranked up too high or what? I wasn't liking this "grades process". Dawn actually gave up and sent me to the examiner. Oddly enough, I didn't "red tag" which is when the preclear is unhappy after a session. I was happy that I'd won the argument! I didn't have to recall efforts anymore! :woohoo: Dawn seemed glad that I had not "red tagged", but I ended up getting one later anyway.

I was trying to impress Scott Chambers on my way home that night. I saw him get into his car at the parking lot so I jumped on my motorcycle and when I saw that his car was just behind me on the way out of the lot, I flipped my long hair back, hair that I spent 30 minutes styling like a Farah Faucet hairdo (but it never really looked like it, maybe a little close) in the mornings, put my helmet on and then kick started my motorcycle. I gave him a look. He passed me and I could have sworn that I'd seen him smile at me out the window of his car. Just then my motorcycle engine died. I had to kick start it again, but I looked forward to see if I could still see if Scott was looking out his rear view mirror maybe, and I slipped. My motorcycle fell on top of my leg and I was pinned between the curb and my motorcycle. Ouch. So much for trying to look cool. I realized how stupid it was to try and start my motorcycle while Scott was watching, because as soon as I put my helmet on, I looked like a retarded space astronaut anyway. Maybe that's why he was smiling, because I looked goofy. I had the cheapest helmet ever made, a huge white bulbous plastic thing that I'd gotten from Sears, so unstylish. I injured my foot. Then the next morning I had a cold. So I had to get a "repair session".

I didn't want to tell Dawn that I'd made an "effort" to get Scott to notice me, so I was glad that she seemed more interested in helping me to feel better. She had me rub my feet on the floor again. This time was different, I rubbed and rubbed and no go. I thought I was going to get rug burn. She actually got out from behind her wooden partition and came over and gave me a foot rub! I liked that. My foot was hurting from after dropping my motorcycle on it and it was nice to get my feet rubbed after that. It made them both feel better. We did something new, called "Date & Locate". I had to recall a time that I'd hurt my foot. That was easy, I'd just hurt it last night! And it was easy to recall another time, because...just because... I finally recalled a time "before I was born" and I felt happier and it seemed like my foot was feeling pretty good too. It could have been the foot rub, or it could have been the "date, locate", or both. I went to the examiner to have him double check to make sure my emeter needle was happy and floating. We were at the City Office in Sunnyvale and not the Steven's Creek Mission and we couldn't find an examiner, the guy who was there before, Carl, wasn't there anymore. So Dawn was my Examiner too! I didn't know she could do that. I said, "you're not cheating are you?" and she said she wasn't, that it was allowed. I said "OK".

Dawn then promptly sent my PC folder to Linda, the Ethics Officer, because I was "PTS" and I didn't see Dawn anymore after that. What the f___ was PTS?????
[super loud JAWS music--absolute pending doom]

I went to see Linda the Ethics Officer. She was a blond haired lady who seemed kind of like a tough lady, she would act like she was a very strict and mean with a stern look on her face, but every once in a while, she'd say something really funny. Like when I walked into her office to see her and she said, "what have you DONE?" and I said, "I uh..." and she said, "Oh I'm not talking to you, it's my baby" I said "what?..." and she said, "I have to bring my kid into the office, she's on the floor, look doesn't she look 'miss witholdy'?, like she's DONE something?" and I kind of just stood there staring blankly. Then Linda said, "Oh, you're no fun!" She yelled out her doorway into the hallway,'"Hey Brodie, look! doesn't my baby look miss witholdy? Like she's DONE something?" Brodie (I'd get Tom Hanks to play Brodie if a movie ever got made) came into the office and Carol V. and they looked at Linda's little baby, "she has DONE something!" Brodie picked up Linda's little girl and said, "Yeh, you DID something and I know what it is! and now you need your diaper changed!!!! " Ha Ha Ha. I didn't get the joke. But everyone else seemed to think it was funny. I waited for the laughter to die down and then I sat down to talk to Linda.

Linda said I needed to do a PTS CS 1, another list of words to clear. Man, did it ever end? When was I going to get special powers and learn how to save the world? What's with all the damn word clearing! I could be doing that in summer school! Which I skipped to be on staff!

Kingsley and Clay came back from Flag and they were "blown out". They stayed up all night long and wrote an Evaluation of the Steven's Creek Mission. They realized we were all "PTS to the Middle Class", so all the staff had to read this special bulletin. I printed some copies for everyone, red on white. It basically was about how people can get too involved with trying to do the things generally expected of them in society and let it keep them from paying attention to their deep spiritual needs. I didn't think that the Steven's Creek staff were PTS to the MIddle class. I had been to where some of them lived. They shared houses and apartments with other staff and didn't really own very much. Most of them owned crappy cars, except for Bernie Wimbush who had a jag.

I helped Kingsley type up the rest of his Evaluation because I could type. I'd taught myself so I could earn money typing things for my step-father, who was working on some novels. I could type pretty fast, but I had trouble with typos. So I stayed up late to get it all just right. Then I printed the whole damn thing with the mimeograph machine. I stayed up all night and so did Diane Noeske and Marcy Garret and some others. I remember them because they were funny and they fed me and thanked me profusely for staying up to help them. Pizza and more Hansen's sodas. I felt the love.

We collated the whole thing and distributed it so it was in all the staff baskets by morning. At the morning meeting the next morning, the staff were told they all had to read it and that they had a limited time with which to do "step 7" of the eval. I didn't originally have to do this step, but because I was labelled PTS earlier, Linda, the EO said I should do it. I had to twin up with someone and talk about times when I was dinged by others and times when I dinged others. Kingsley said that Dings were things like not saying "good morning" to someone in the morning, or forgetting to say Thank You, or other small things that might offend another.

I tried to do "step 7" with my sister, but she thought it was really stupid, I could think of a lot of things she did to ding me. Like when she took too long in the bathroom in the mornings, or when she ate the last of the the cereal in the cereal box and didn't throw it away, but put it back into the cabinet just so I'd get my hopes up to eat the cereal, grab the box... and what no cereal? Man that was a ding. I told my senior, the Dir Comm, Art that I didn't have anyone to do Step 7 with and he said that I didn't really have to do it. Later on, this would be good for me, that I didn't do the "de-dinging" thing because I didn't have to do the Keeping Scientology Working course later on for squirrelling.

Well, OK, I've typed a lot and I'm getting a little tired, so I'm going to jump to November 1982. Oh No, wait... have to mention, on my 16th birthday in June, I got my braces off!!! AND I got my first real Driver's License!!! But I didn't have any boobs yet. Oh well. I know,

Kingsley and Clay got declared "Suppressive Persons" by David Miscavige. They were apparently holding onto loads of public and making too much money from it, over 100,000 a week in Mission GI (that's gross income, not gross as in Yuk, gross as in before refunds and other corrections) and they were squirrels! The whole de-dinging thing was "not LRH" and so off they went, to whoever knows where, taking their wives with them. Oh except Clay, his wife divorced him earlier, she was some hot shot Olympic Games Committee coordinator and she thought Clay was a loser I guess.

Later on, I saw Clay near the Valco shopping mall and I gave him a ride to his apartment. Asher, his daughter was with him. They seemed awfully quiet. I found out from Marcy that when someone is declared suppressive, it means I'm not supposed to talk to them anymore! so I couldn't talk to Clay or offer him rides if I saw him. I thought that was strange. How was Clay going to be a Scientologist anymore if nobody talked to him? Well, basically if a person gets declared, they are publicly being told that they aren't Scientologists anymore. It's a HIGH CRIME for someone to publicy depart Scientology, but it's not a HIGH CRIME for Sea Organization staff to publicy tell someone else they aren't a Scientologist anymore. OH. So David Miscavige has the power to decide who is and who isn't included in the Scientology family? Yes, basically. None of this made much sense to me, but I was curious! I was kind of sad too, I had wanted to learn how to be a great public speaker like Kingsley and Clay, but alas... guess I'd have to learn from others. They weren't in the family anymore.

Later, Some chain smoking Sea Organization Missionaires showed up at Steven's Creek. Geary Titus and Ian Galloway . They declared more people. Ian was a stocky Irish guy with reddish hair. I kept having to bring him phone messages but he never seemed to answer them. One day I handed him a message and I squinted my eyes at him and said in kind of a hushed voice with a mock British accent, "Are you Ian Galloway?" I pronouned every letter, as if I was asking him if he was James Bond or something. He said, "yeh" and I said, "here is a secret message for you" and I handed him a folded phone message while I furtively looked over my shoulder and side to side. Then I quickly walked away. He thought that was funny. I had gotten him to smile! And he finally looked at his freakin' phone message! I only got statistics for calls that got routed through and completed. Not for unanswered phone calls. For years after that, whenever I saw him, I'd squint my eyes and say, in a hushed voice, "It's Ian Galloway". I drew out the Ian part, EEEEAN Gallowayyy, and tried to sound British, then I'd look around like I was checking to see if I was followed. It made him smile every time. He blew the SO I believe from the Int Base about 1989. I wonder what had happened to him. Someone said he might have been having health problems. I wouldn't doubt it, he smoked like a chimney.

Geary Titus had a foul mouth. When I patched calls into his office, I had to ask him before I hit the connect button, "Is this Geary Titus?" and as soon as he said yes, I'd patch the call. He got mad one day and said, "You don't have to ask me if I'm Geary Titus EVERY goddamn time!!" I said, "Yes I do, because others answer your phone that sound like you." He said, "No they don't, I have my own phone, I'm the ONLY one in this office." I said, "You don't have your own phone line Mr. Titus." and he started swearing and cussing, " I wanted my own f_____g goddamn phone line! --- who the fuck is answering my phone?" I told him the various people who could answer his phone from other offices and I said that I wouldn't patch his phone calls to them unless I know it's him, he calmed down and said, "OK, fuck it, I'll just say "this is Geary" when I answer the phone OK? I said it wouldn't work because there was another guy named Gary that sounded like him, I expected him to swear at me again, but he didn't. He just said, "OK, I'll say it's 'me', how's that? I thought that was perfect. As much I as didn't like his foul mouth, well... I eventually got one myself..., I did like that when he gave me an order (to stop asking if he was Geary Titus every time I rang his phone) he helped me figure out another solution so that I could comply.

All the Steven's Creek staff had to do OW write-ups. I wasn't as solemn as everyone else, it was excited. Some new group activity. My FIRST OW Write UP !!!! Little did I know that one day I'd get sick of these damn things!!!! This was before the bulletin was out that is currently in use in the C of S. What everyone did was use a small paragraph out of the small red Technical Dictionary on how to do the write ups. I found it kind of interesting how the "withold system" related overts and witholds to problems. I had to write down what problem I was trying to solve when I wrote down a sin/overt or a secret/withold. Hmmm, so if I did something wrong or embarassing, it was because I wasn't that great at solving problems. I wanted to learn how to solve my problems better. I was hungry. I ordered some Pizza, and root beer. One of the SO Missionaires, I think it was Ian, who walked into the space where we were all writing and saw the pizza and root beer and said, "what is this, some kind of fucking godamn party?" and it made me feel guilty like I'd done something wrong. But I was HUNGRY and I had to solve that problem!

And now for the final part of part 5!!! I met a Sea Org Recruiter... [crescendo of JAWS MUSIC, merge over into OUTER LIMITS MUSIC]:shark:

James Stemme who was a Flag Personal Procurement Officer. He told me that if I joined the SO, I would be able to swim in the Fort Harrison pool (NOT) AND finish all my schooling and college (not) AND do film school (not)And if I joined NOW, I was officially being recruited for the TTC and I would be on full time study until I became a professional Flag Auditor (not) so that I could help to save the planet! How could I refuse that!!! I signed on the dotted line. A billion year contract. It was what I had dreamed of, I'd become "an OT" like Ann Manier said to do, because Sea Org Members were OTs.

I took James to my apartment to get my Mom's signature on the parental consent form. My little brother was there at the apartment. He wanted to come with me. He didn't want to be left with my Mom, he wanted to come with me. So James signed him up too. My Mom was drunk, she had no idea what she was signing, but James assured us all we were doing the most important thing in our lives. He said we'd get to visit our family regularly, at least three weeks a year (not). JAMES STEMME, what a damn LIAR. Liar Liar pants on fire! He basically kidnapped my little brother and I, stuck us in his car, drove us to the San Francisco airport (oh I got a tour of the San Francisco Org at night) and then put us on a red eye flight (that's code for you fly at night when you are supposed to be sleeping, but it's not easy to sleep in the plane, so you arrive at your destination with red eyes) to Tampa airport. He didn't even tell anyone we were coming. We showed up at the airport and sat there waiting. Wak, oh, no it was Wik Allcock saw us sitting in the airport and figured he'd ask us if we were looking for a ride to the Fort Harrison because we looked out of place, two kids with no parents sitting at the airport with a bunch of suitcases. I said No, we had joined the Sea Organization, Flag. Wik laughed and said, "well then you are with me, come on!" Wik seemed so happy to see us, he was positively elated.

OK, this is the end of Part 5 folks! Only 18 years now of Sea Organization to write about!



 
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