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Subject: CW report (gypsyblue)
From: seagoon@evil.lron.org (Neddie Seagoon)
Date: Thu, 09 Dec 1999 22:23:43 GMT
Message-ID: <385029cc.16422681@enews.newsguy.com>

Forwarded for gypsyblue, who had problems connecting to NG.
 ..

I hadn't slept in over 24 hours when I landed in Clearwater on Friday,
at about 11:30 a.m. I was exhausted but excited, I was about to meet
the people I had become friendly with over the past year, and do some
major enturbulation at the same time. I had a premonition it would be
an eventful weekend, and I was right!

I quickly passed through customs and was met on the other side of the
gate by the anticipated "Xenu Productions" sign, behind which stood
Duncan Pierce, who had kindly come to pick me up. One of the first
things he said to me was (and I'm paraphrasing) "Your nick certainly
suits you" or something to that effect. I was to get alot of that all
weekend, in fact, even the staff at the hotel took to calling me
Gypsy. It was an odd, but not unpleasant sensation. Anyhow...we
arrived at the hotel very quickly and I did the usual check-in, check
out the room thing, changed into summer clothes (ahhh, a Toronto girl
in Florida in December...is there a happier species?) and went down to
the restaurant/bar where I met a whole bunch of people, who kept
coming in from picketing. Among them were Beverley Rice (we knew each
other immediately, as though we'd been friends for ages), Gerry
Armstrong, who I'd met briefly at a Toronto picket recently, Kim
Baker, and others who my muddled head can't place at the moment.
Everyone was incredibly friendly and I felt comfortable from my first
moment. After meeting some of the gang, I headed to my room for a much
needed nap. I slept for a couple of hours and then back to the bar to
catch the news, both the t.v. kind, and the word of mouth news of the
constantly arriving picketers. Everyone was wearing orange dots, and
the story (which I'm sure has been told more clearly than I could tell
it) was relayed. I think I still have a page of stickers in my purse,
I will keep them as a souvenier.

At some point a bunch of us went to a crab place for dinner. Of course
someone ordered the fried clams. We had a wonderful time chatting with
each other, comparing stories about why we were there, planning our
methods of enturbulation for the next couple of days, and so on. After
dinner I took a drive with Gregg Hagglund, Mark Bunker and "Twil",
downtown. There I caught my first glimpse of the infamous Ft. Harrison
Hotel. Yes, the sidewalks all around were in a state of disarray, and
the building was cloaked in green material and scaffolding. There was
a huge, brightly lit green "Happy Holidays" and I wondered aloud why
underneath it didn't say "Christ was an implant". Mark and I took a
walk around the hotel and he pointed out to me the area in which Lisa
had been held during her last days. It gave me a shiver, in the warm
night air. We inspected the sidewalks all around, as well, to see if
the orange lines had been scrubbed away. We even caught sight of some
scientologists actually on their knees, with cleaning tools in
hand...."out out damn (orange) spot"...

Then back to the hotel and an early night for me. Jeff Jacobsen,
looking frazzled and tired, told me to be in the conference room at
8:45 the next morning, and I needed to get some sleep. It had been
arranged that I would sit at the hand-out table at the back of the
room, and I was at my post in plenty of time. I had been forwarned
about the quality of the Holiday Inn coffee, but I needed my caffine,
so I gulped away, ignoring the wishy-washy, non-descript taste. It was
that, or the excellent, informative speeches given by all the speakers
that woke me up properly, and I sat attentive, through-out the
conference.

It's true that the conference was not that well attended, but I think
it was a success. Mark Bunker filmed all the speakers for Xenu TV, and
so, the message, although not seen by many in person, will be viewed
by who knows how many interested surfers, looking for information. The
speakers, as I said, were riveting. Steven Hassan was very emotional,
as he spoke of his own experiences in a cult. Ken Dandar spoke of how
he got involved in the lawsuit on behalf of Lisa McPherson's family,
and to hear him speak brought tears to many eyes. I learnt from David
C. (sorry, last name escapes me), about the goals of the newly founded
Lisa McPherson Trust, and was impressed enough to offer my services to
the board, if there is any way in which I can help. Gerry Armstrong,
Grady Ward, Gabe C. (the former mayor of CW), and the rest were all
equally fascinating, and I learnt alot that morning.

I also got a chance to meet some others, who I'd not met previously.
It was great to finally meet Deana Holmes, I'd been much looking
forward to it. It was heart-wrenching to meet and chat with Ed and
Sally Lottick, who lost their son, Noah, to Scientology a number of
years ago. They are the most lovely people but I think their grief
never leaves them. I wanted to hug them and say something comforting,
but really, what is there to say?

The conference ended in due time, and I was ready for another nap.
There was a room available for an open house, but nobody seemed to be
heading that way. Jeff J. said he would stay for awhile, just in case,
and I went to get him some lunch. On my way back, I ran into the
beautiful Maggie Council and her two charming boys and escorted them
to Jeff, leaving them to catch up on all the news, I finally hit my
bed and was asleep within seconds.

I awoke about 5:00, dressed, and went down to look for fellow SPs.
There were none to be found. I hung out in the lobby and the bar,
waiting, to no avail. I was begining to be convinced I had been
forgotten, when Michael Reuss arrived, and offered me a lift to the
vigil. Then the picketers began arriving, ready for the memorial
service. Mad Cow looked dashing in his tartans, Tilman was adorable as
he peeked under to see for himself what the kilt deal is. We chatted,
snapped photos of each other, hugs were passed around, and then we all
left for the Presbyterian Church, right beside the Ft. Harrison, where
the candlelight service was to be held.

Being amongst the first to arrive, I sat down under a big tree and
watched. There were news people and film crews arriving, an abundance
of police officers, and many people there, just to remember Lisa.
There was a beautiful wreath across which was written "We will never
forget you Lisa". Someone (I think Frank Oliver) projected the same
message straight on to the side of the Ft. Harrison, from his car, it
was clever and moving, at the same time. I'm sure the scientologists
felt impotent rage when they saw it on the news!! ;) (The ones hatted
to watch the news, I mean.)

When Lisa's family arrived, the service began. Gregg Hagglund spoke
touchingly and I felt an aura of sad somberness envelope us all.
Lisa's family looked tired, and my heart went out to them. Sally
Lottick stood bravely, holding back tears, with her husband beside
her. Alot of people did cry, tears streaming down as the bagpiper
played his haunting, lonely music. The candles kept going out in the
wind.

After Gregg spoke, I was honoured to be asked to carry the wreath from
the Church, down the street and around the corner to the area where
Lisa had spent her last days. I marched slowly, with cameras in front
of me, and a procession of all the attendees behind, holding their
lighted candles. After I set down the wreath, everyone walked solomnly
by and blew out his or her candle in front of the wreath. It was a
beautiful, poignant moment.

The service over, a large group of us went out for dinner to an
Italian restaurant nearby. Considering the owner had no idea such a
massive group would be arriving, he and his staff did an outstanding
job, and were very friendly about it, too. Dinner was a blast. I
chatted with even more people, who I'd not previously had the chance
to meet....I had a particularly pleasant conversation with Roxy,
talking about art and poetry. I made a short toast to Jeff Jacobsen
and Rod Keller after the wine (which flowed all night) was served, to
thank them for their efforts in putting the conference/protest
together. Don Nots then made a speech, and presented Pat (TFCVP) with
a plaque, proclaiming her SP6. Bob Minton graciously hosted the meal,
and I hereby say thank you to him, for such an enjoyable feast.

Again, we all headed back to the bar. The night bartender was a girl
named Sally. Think of Peppermint Patty all grown up, and raunchy, and
you have an idea of what Sally was like. She was great. She would
groan (kiddingly) whenever she saw a bunch of us approaching. She was
alot of fun, and we had some great laughs together. We all hung out at
the bar to watch the news, on which the vigil was indeed mentioned.
The funniest part of the television coverage, in my opinion, was the
statement made by the scientology rep., saying that nobody even
noticed the protesters were in town. This was repeated on all the
local t.v. channels, who were so busy not noticing us. Merk, Susu and
someone else (sorry, again my mind fails me) also made the cover of
one of the sections of the SP Times...another indication of how we
passed by, invisible.

Sunday was enturbulation day for me. I was asked by Dave Tourestsky to
join him and Don Nots in the entheta-mobile, and what a time I had!!
We spent the early part of the day parked opposite the Sandcastle
Hotel. Don had a big green plastic Xenu attached to a long stick, and
he waved it about, shouting "there are no OTs here, if there were, I
wouldn't be here" and other such suppressive things. Dave and I sat
holding picket signs and whenever anyone entered or left the
Sandcastle property I would yell "Xenu Loves You". Behind us, in the
park, a band was playing blues on stage. It was a lovely touch, we
danced in the back of the pick up, Xenu's arms flailing, until Jesse
Prince came by and took Xenu in his arms for an intimate spin around
the park. I haven't laughed so hard in a long time. Look for it on
Xenu TV, Mark filmed the whole dance.

After a few hours, which passed in what felt like minutes, we packed
up our stationary show, and headed downtown for our drive-about...just
like the queen, but slightly less decorous.

Dave put on his Xenu outfit, blue robe, Xenu face with big, almond
shaped purple eyes, and a sash that proclaimed "Xenu" for all to see.
I sat in the back with him, holding onto the green Xenu, and waving
his arm to all those who honked and gave us thumbs up in appreciation.
Deana also joined us in the back of the truck, with a picket sign
waving. With Don Nots driving, we circled the downtown area over and
over, past the Ft. Harrison, along Cleveland Street, where the
scientologists had set up booths to sell things, and for kids to do
art, and become drug free marshalls. Xenu waved, we all hollered our
slogans, the picketers on all the corners acknowledged us as we
passed, the film crews got tons of shots. It was alot of fun, and I
think we did some great work.

As an end to the day, we got out of the truck and did a Xenu
walk-about. Xenu stopped in front of a bunch of microphones, and a
small stage, and did a very cartoony dance to the Christmas music that
was being piped in. He was a riot. Unfortunately I forgot my camera,
and there was no one around to take photos, so the image will have to
reside in my memory, but I'm sure it won't fade for a long time, such
a sight it was.

Dinner that night was a smaller affair, about 15 of us (more or less)
went to an all-American bar-b-que place for big hunks of meat. I think
it was here that I laughed the hardest...Don Nots kept us in stitches
by ordering more food than we could imagine, and then desert, which he
polished off happily. Susu, Kim Baker and I laughed until the tears
rolled down our faces. At one a point, a woman came up to us in tears,
calling the fact that we were there, in the restaurant "providential".
She told us all of her harrassment by the Co$, and we gave her some
web-sites she could check out, and some names, of people who might
help her. She mentioned the blue laundry balls, and I must admit there
was a hoot of laughter that went up amongst us. Not that we didn't
sympathize with this woman's hassles. I sat, after dinner with Kim,
talking over cigarettes. We had a wonderful conversation, and realized
how much we had in common. We were both thrilled, I think, to have
found in each other a kindred spirit, and I think our friendship,
begun on this trip, will last now for a lifetime. Thanks Kim!

The rest of the night was mostly just saying good-bye to people (which
I hate), so I will not bore you with those details. I will, however,
give you a few general thoughts to wrap up my already too wordy
report.

The Co$, by means of tearing up the sidewalk in front of the Ft.
Harrison, by their Orange Dot brigade, and by various other methods,
tried their best to make our protest less visible. In my opinion their
scheming only worked in our favour. I believe there is a degree of
creativity to be found in limitations, and we found it! Perhaps, if we
had all picketed in front of the hotel alone, the entheata-mobile
might not have been conceived, for example. Also, being so spread out,
a few picketers on each corner, made us more accessible to the locals,
alot of whom had interesting comments about scientology in their
community. I think it helped us to interact with them more.

Also, I was very impressed to see that all of the side issues, that
sometimes bog us down on a.r.s. and IRC were forgotten. We all got
along just fine, remembering the reason we were there. I was glad to
see that when it came down to it, we could all put aside our personal
differences. As I said to someone online, this experience helped to
cement the bonds of cameraderie, as well as to further spread the
message of the evil and insideous nature of the so-called 'Church' of
Scientology.

Thanks to everyone who made this time what it was.


Gypsyblue