MY ROAD TO PERDITION - The Twilight Zone

INTRODUCTION: Describing $cientology to newly inquiring and uninformed individuals, in just a few sound bytes, is a nearly impossible task. Nevertheless, many friends and supporters have requested that I openly share my recent experiences. See for a better understanding.

PART 1 = Beliefs and gratitude
PART 2 = Summer 2002
PART 3 = Rhode Island
PART 4 = Transportation
PART 5 = Kentucky
PART 6 = Current, future, and beyond

PART 1 - Beliefs and gratitude

To avoid continued attacks and allegations of being a religious bigot, I want to clarify that my issues and concerns with $cientology are behavioral, rather than beliefs. People should have the absolute right to believe in what they wish or hold to be true. Faith is a personal and relative matter. This applies to Scientologists, also. They have the right to believe that man evolved from bivalve crustaceans, Hubbard is the savior of the planet, Xenu is (was) the ruler of the galactic universe, the existence of thetans, PTSs, SPs, entheta, etc. on and on. While I may personally find these to be science fiction or silly, the rights to believe in these are protected. No argument from me there.

From my personal experience with the Co$, I find them to be an alternative mental health sect rather than a bona fide religion. Where I find significant fault with certain groups, is when those known beliefs result in behaviors that are harmful to others. In my own life, for over ten years now, I have attempted to defend my rights to object to the cult's policies of family disconnection, legal harassment, Fair Game (c), Black PR, Depopularizing the Enemy, and application of L. Ron Hubbard's:

HCO PL 2/25/66 "Attack, do not defend," "Hiring their own PIs to stalk others," and "make it rough all the way."

One has to seriously ponder what Hubbard implied when he wrote: "make it rough all the way!"

What does "all the way" really mean? To cause bankruptcy, false imprisonment, to go crazy, or worse death - inducement of suicide? I'd really like an official spokesperson for the Co$ to crystal clarify this one point.

My travails over the last few years have been borderline bizarre. The past year has been especially trying. Thank you to the many people for their letters, cards of encouragement, caring and support. I also wanted to take this opportunity to request that all of you get a copy of the flow charts produced by Citizens Against Corruption. Step One is, Initiating the Fraud [front groups and artifice]. Step Two is, Extending the Time Before Adherents Discover the Fraud. Step Three is, Conspiracy for Silence. It has been my experience in the past in dealing with the dark side of the cult, that visual aids are vital for understanding. Those along with analogies, help tremendously. Arnie Lerma deserves kudos for creating these aids. I am sure he will mail you a copy if you send him some postage. I could only imagine the benefit if these flow charts were to get into the hands of every local, county, state, and federal law enforcement and social service agencies... as well as other nations. Thank you, Arnaldo!

PART 2 - Summer 2002

In January of this year, the courts through detailed orders restored liberal visitation between me and my son, as children and parents normally enjoy. In March, the Kentucky Court of Appeals ruled that the Circuit Court had erred in branding me as a felon. In April, the Circuit court published a report after exhaustive discovery in matters of child support allegations from my ex-wife's criminal complaint of me. It acknowledged that I was in fact pre-paid in support and was owed a refund of approximately $12,000. This report from a commissioner, was in fact re-confirmed by the judge in an order of July 30th, 2002.

With the appearance of the light at the end of the tunnel of being smothered in 10 years of caustic litigation, I had a glimmer of hope that I and my children could just get on with life, void of the influences of the teachings and practices of L Ron Hubbard. I was so much looking forward to some fun and quality time with both of my kids, but "legally sanctioned" in respect to my son who was still a minor. We had not enjoyed extended and unrestricted time together in seven years, since the summer of 1995.

In May, the mother of my children filed a motion with the court demanding that the summer visitation be halted because of an alleged need for summer school for my son. After more costly back and forth litigation, the court denied her attempts to continue to sabotage normal father and son time. Also in May, her neighbor the Commonwealth Attorney (prosecutor), filed a motion in the criminal case acknowledging that he had lost the Appeal case, but wanted a hearing on unrelated matters that he scheduled for June 2nd. There was NO issue pending that required my attendance. Additionally, I was under doctor's orders not to travel long distances, due to lingering orthopedic maladies. My attorney, Public Defender James Ruschell appeared on my behalf. Actually, the criminal case was overripe to be dismissed and expunged per the original pre-trial diversion agreement. This is what I expected to occur based on all the facts.

On June 3rd, I was notified by my public defender that the demeanor of the prosecutor was still unreasonably hostile and wanted my physical body there. He moved for an issuance of a bench warrant for my arrest. The judge quickly granted his request. I was shocked! So was my attorney. This was going to be a dreadful repeat of the summer of 2000. My lawyers in both Kentucky and Massachusetts were advising not me to go there, at least until a private defense lawyer was retained with a plan. It was more than evident that Hubbard's "make it rough all the way" directive was still in play there. This of course would alter the summer plans and normal dad and son time so desperately fought for. Within just short weeks of the bench warrant being signed, the private lawyer for the mother of my children filed motions in the civil court to again restrict visitation on the grounds that my son was still a minor and should not be in the company of a "wanted criminal."

In early June, I moved out of Meadow Haven, the half way house and safe haven for former members of abusive groups. There was no need to make them a target of scientologists "depopularizing the enemy" tactics with police squad cars pulling up and creating local PR problems. So I went on the lam so to speak. But at the same time working with Massachusetts authorities educating them on the REAL motives of why I was wanted in Kentucky see: I lived with various friends for a couple of months. My attempts to get through to my son via phone, e-mail, and regular mail were unsuccessful. I tried to keep busy, productive and occupied. I was even getting advice to go to Canada for a while.

On July 30th, the civil court issued an order denying the motion to again restrict visitation with my son. This was good news, but I didn't receive it until mid August. The June, July court ordered 5 week summer visitation time had passed. I had only one court ordered visitation date left before my son started school and turned 18 - the age of consent. It was Labor Day weekend. I booked reservations for him to fly in for 3 days from the Nashville, TN Airport. These were communicated by phone, e-mail, and through legal counsel. I was excited to be with Beau. On the evening of Friday, August 30th, I drove to the T.F.Green Airport in Providence to pick my son up. I tried calling him on the cell phone to make sure he was on his way. There was no answer. I hoped and assumed he was in flight. Apparently, and eventually, I found out that I was naive and too trusting ....again. That evening turned into a nightmare.

PART 3 - Rhode Island

Many southern New Englanders prefer Providence's Airport (T.F.Green) over Boston's inner city Logan Airport for many reasons... better carrier fares, direct flights to second tier cites, cheaper parking, less car traffic and MUCH easier access - no smog ridden tunnels to drive through! This is where my story from this summer continues. At approximately 9pm on the evening of Friday, August the 30th, I drove to Providence Airport from Massachusetts to meet my son on his arriving 10:15pm flight from Nashville. I was so excited to see my son. We had a 3 day weekend of just normal and fun father/son activities planned - guy stuff! One day was devoted to him being with a whole bunch of his paternal Padgett relatives too. In the back of my mind, I had this arrest warrant crud from Kentucky rattling around in my brain, but my love for my son and zeal to see him ASAP helped push those thoughts away. That along with the fact that Massachusetts authorities were not honoring KY's attempts to extradite me since they read ALL the facts, ulterior cultic motives, and documentation and knew something really stunk.

I arrive at the airport at 10:00pm. Beau's flight was early, it arrived at 10:05. At 10:30pm when all the passengers debarked, my heart was swollen with sadness with no son in sight. But before giving into the notion that his mom had sabotaged yet another visit (dozens over the years), I called the airport's information desk number and had him paged to meet his party in the luggage pickup level. That was a big mistake, in retrospect it was really dumb of me, given the long history of attacks and being set-up in the past. Within five minutes of the page, I was swarmed by at least 6 police - local Warwick as well as armed airport guards in black swat team garb and spit shined army boots. They held me tightly by the arms, gave me full body frisks, took my wallet, hand cuffed me, and took me away to a squad car parked right at the airport's main front entrance. They all had bravado eating grins as though they had capture a dangerous wanted criminal. All the time, hundreds of airport patrons were looking at me as though I was a Mohamed Atma type caught trying to hijack or bomb a plane for Osama Bin Ladin. If looks could kill, I'd be dead.

I was taken to the Warwick Police station, finger printed, allowed 2 phone calls, then placed in a very small cell with only a hard metal cot and a toilet - no sink, mattress, or blankets. It was cold. I was sitting in front of the arresting officers' desk while he processed me. He asked me if a knew a Danny Dees in Kentucky. I said, "Yes, his office is right next door to my ex-wife's attorney." I then asked him if he had access to the internet on the computer before him. He replied, "Yes". I said, "Do want to know why I am really wanted in Kentucky?" He said, "Sure" so I gave him the URL of After a half hour or so he came back and said in a kind tone, "This is terrible, I'd let you go if I could, but I'm only doing my job. Why didn't you just stay in Massachusetts?" He had a clue!

At approximately midnight, I was marched out of the cell and brought before a rather large and gnarly looking justice-of-the-peace, bail bond character. He told me this was a "hearing" and officially charged me with "fugitive from justice" complaint saying that it was alleged that I owed some $16,000 in child support, and I was being held without bail. I immediately disagreed with him noting I was overpaid by that same amount per court order, and that Kentucky set a $5000 bail amount on me. He didn't give a flying, whatever. He got angry and signaled the cops to take me away back to the cell.

At approximately 2:00am, I was transferred to the Rhode Island Adult Corrections Facility in Cranston - a huge barb wired state prison. This was not some county jail or detention center. At that time, I had no idea I was about to spend my next 33 days there. I was sure this mess would be cleared up and I would be set free within a few hours or days. I was placed in a stark holding cell for a period of 19 hours until a regular cell freed up. I wound up in cell block D-mod, in a 2 man cell # 220. Over the next four and a half weeks I had four different cell mates. The first three were bailed out for much worse crimes than I was being charged with, at a fraction of the bond amounts.

I am going to spare all the daily details of prison life and routine. It's safe to say it's not a pleasant environment. There is a web site for major reform at: I'll let that do the talking for me. I got to hangout with murderers, pimps, child abusers, wife beaters, thieves, burglars, drug users, drug manufacturers, and drug distributors, habitual check forging dudes, bookies, and even a few cops and politicians gone sour. I got hit with the standard question "whad yooz in here for pal?" at least 50 times. My standard reply was always, "I pissed off a cult, a few members and higher ups!" The usual response was "that's not a crime!" I always said, "Yes that's true, but in the Church of $cientology it's a High Crime to publicly depart". Lots of eye brows were raised and LOL too! The short of it was I got to hone up my card game skills. The worst punishment was during indoor break time being forced to watch re-runs of the Jerry Springer Show and listening to rap and hip hop music, just dreadful.

During the first 3 weeks, I was transported to the Kent County Court House 3 different times in vehicles that resembled the kind of trucks used to haul hunting and show dogs - small cages for human beings. This were for hearings in the Kent Co. District Court. On my second visit, they came up with a faxed piece of paper from Kentucky that alleged I signed a waiver of extradition back in November of 2002. Upon close inspection it looked forged since I had no recollection of ever signing that.

The actual merits of the case were scheduled to be heard in the Superior Court on October 3rd. A private lawyer was retained for me by friends to represent me, nice guy, but not cheap. If we couldn't beat the extradition charge, we at least had the right to post the $5000 bail for surety bond established by Kentucky back in June. The lonely doldrums of waiting and waiting for days turned into weeks, were interrupted by wonderful and caring cards and letters from family and friends. I got as few visits, too. The phone situation in the R.I. Correctional Facilities are terrible. You are literally cut off from the outside world.

At Approximately 2pm on October 2nd, a guard came to my cell and said to me "220-B, pack your stuff, you're outta here!" A wide grin took over my entire face. I collected my accumulated prison junk in a small box given to me, and was escorted downstairs to be processed out. Hot dang, I thought, they bailed me out! Happy days are here again. I can't wait to speak with my son and daughter, sleep in a regular bed, and use some dental floss. I looked up and said, "Thank you God!" What a great day this was going to be, or so I thought.

On September 30, one of my attorneys, Mike Mosco, wrote and faxed a letter to the Kentucky judge requesting his blessings on posting a bail bond as originally noted in the bench warrant dated June 17. It was a very well written letter covering the fact that he had called both the prosecutor and the probation offices in Kentucky, and that both had no objections to releasing me on bail and to dealing with the pending situation prudently and rationally. I was told that the judge did not
respond or reply.

PART 4 - Transportation

The Rhode Island ISC unit of the ACI Prison, is a very large building. I made my way down to the processing center through a maze of corridors and stairs. I was given my civilian clothes and put into a holding cell to change out of my prison attire. Then I was brought to the main intake/out take desk. There was a man and woman in plain clothes in front of the counter, that I did not recognize. One of the Corrections Officers said to them, "That's Mr. Padgett" pointing to me. I automatically assumed these were the local people that my lawyer and a friend of mine had arranged to transport me back across the Massachusetts state line which was only 10 miles away. With a friendly gesture, I approached the couple with my arm extended for a hand shake and trustingly said with a warm smile, "Hi I'm Tom Padgett!" They hesitated to return the gesture, but the man did eventually shake my hand and said, "We're from the Hopkins County Sheriff's Department and we here to take you back to Kentucky." I was shocked. I backed up a few paces. There wasn't a mirror around, but I'm sure I turned white instantly then to a shade of red in anger that I had been "tricked" again. I looked at the Road Island Corrections Officers and said, "Hold on here, I am scheduled for extradition hearing in Superior Court tomorrow. I can't go with these people now." They told me abruptly that I didn't have a choice in the matter. I said, "I want to speak to my lawyer now"! The commanding officer on duty, said in an ugly tone, "You can call him from Kentucky, you're outta here"!

The Kentucky sheriff's proceeded to hand cuff me. I wanted to resist and protest vigorously. This whole unfolding nightmare was wrong, very wrong. However, fresh in my memory was seeing other inmates being assaulted and dowsed with pepper spray for resisting. Also, no longer being in prime physical condition from my 20s or 30s, I was concerned for injury. Lastly, there were no other civilians around as witnesses if some harm did come to me unjustly. So I went with the KY officials passively.

I was placed in the back seat of a rental car and we headed to the Providence Airport, the scene of my arrest 33 days earlier. While in the car, I asked the sheriffs for the actual paperwork they used to extract me from the Road Island State prison system. They let me briefly view a four page document, then wanted it back. I asked for a copy since it looked strange and had untruths in it. I was told I could get a copy from jail officials, once in Kentucky.

Since 9/11, security in airports have become almost militaristic - not warm and hospitable places of years past. Now image being in handcuffs flanked by law enforcement with badges going through security check points. The processing was double the trouble. The actual Delta Airline flights were smooth and uneventful. However, the sneers I received from 100s and 100s of people as though I was a guilty, wanted, and dangerous individual, were very unsettling. On the first flight from Providence to Atlanta, I sat between the two sheriffs. The second fight from Atlanta to Nashville was booked to the max. The three of us were separated. I was seated between a young man hammering away on his HP laptop computer, and a business man reading USA Today. I am sure they felt uneasy. Reaching for tomato juice, peanuts, and pretzels with both arms from the flight attendants with the sound of handcuff chains rattling, was the epitome of indignation. I kept saying to myself, "Stay positive, you'll get through this. This is just another humbling event that will make me stronger in life."

I asked the young guy next to me for a favor. I asked him to punch in his search to From there I asked him to travel to the "Personal Accounts" section. I then said, "See the Tom Padgett line, click there, that's me"! He was quiet, but read and read all over the Xenu site. The only verbal exchange he offered was "Who or what is Xenu?" I said, "Oh, he was the ruler of the galactic universe some 70 plus million years ago!" Then I sensed he thought; not only did he have a criminal seated next to him, but a lunatic too! It was kind of of funny in weird sort of way.

After, we arrived in the Nashville airport, we proceeded to the parking and located the standard Government issued Ford Crown Victoria with big HOPKINS COUNTY SHERIFF lettering on all four sides. With my wry sense of humor, I asked them if I could drive. They smiled and laughed, and then put me in the caged in, back seat area. The drive to Madville, Kentucky from Nashville is approximately two hours northwest. The pain from my chronic back injuries was raging at this point. I was still on doctor's orders not to travel. So much for medical advice and choices!

On the trip up, we had a chance to talk. The Sheriff's asked me, "So who really wants you here in Kentucky?" I explained that it was complicated and asked if they had a pen and piece of paper in the squad car. I told them to write down and to look it up on their department's computer when they got back. I said it's ALL there. They also asked, "Do these people who want you have lots of money?" I thought to myself, 'the Vannoy Family and the Scientology organization?' and exclaimed "Oh YES, gobs of money!" They replied, "That explains it!" I retorted, "Yup, it's got nothing to do with breaking the law or criminal behavior!" One of them uttered a "Uh huh" agreeing with me.

In all fairness, the deputy sheriffs who extracted me from Rhode Island, Otis Chamberlain and Nicole Raymond, were very pleasant, gentle, cordial, and professional. At no time were they rough, abusive, or rude. They were very nice people. The only problem was, they were "county" authorities, and not employees of the "state" (Commonwealth) since my case was NEVER at the county/city government level. Something didn't smell right in that respect.

We arrived at the NEW Hopkins County Jail after midnight October 3rd, the day I was supposed to have an extradition hearing in Rhode Island. I was brought inside for processing there. It felt so good to get the handcuffs off and to stretch my arms, legs and back. But that relief, was short lived with the eerie realization that I was now deep in the territory and turf of those who wanted to inflict more psychological, parental, financial, and possible physical injury on me. This was the jurisdiction of my former in-laws' friend Judge Charles Boteler. In the back of my mind I thought, what are my children doing and thinking now!


From the Madville Messenger Newspaper, January 26, 1999; "PADGETT TOLD TO STOP FAXES AND BLAMING SCIENTOLOGY" -
"Hopkins Circuit Judge Charles Boteler ordered Padgett not to fax any more Scientology material to his office, the clerk's office, the Commonwealth Attorney's office or to any witness in his civil or criminal case." "If you violate any of these conditions I'll bring you back here and send you to prison for five years", Boteler said.

by Staff Writer Garth Gamblin

"I don't even know what a cult is!" "This case is going to be appealed."



PART 5 - Kentucky

On March 8, 2002, the Kentucky Court of Appeals ruled against Hopkins Circuit Court's felony conviction of me without a jury trial. However, there I was back in the Blue Grass state in hand cuffs, being frisked by County Jail corrections officers, and being re-processed in as an "inmate". To say this was a head scratcher would be an understatement.

On October 3rd, I was put in a holding cell for approximately 24 hours. On October 4th I was assigned and moved to a permanent dormitory type cell that housed 16 inmates - mostly if not all with felony charges and convictions. Like 33 days earlier in Rhode Island, I thought this was going to be a short visit of only a day or two - post bail that was established back in June, and get back home. Little did I know I was going to be there for almost 3 weeks more.

The first two weeks, I slept on the floor waiting for a lower bunk to become available. An incidence of violence occurred where 2 inmates were pepper sprayed and sent to "the hole" - solitary confinement. This made a lower bunk open up, an opportunity I jump on immediately. I thought I was in hog heaven ......relatively speaking. During my 20 day incarceration in The Hopkins County Jail, I went to Court only one (1) time. On October 8th, I appeared before Judge Charles Boteler, with Public Defender Mike Ruschell. In the Rhode Island system, they let you change back into civilian clothes before going before the courts. Not in Kentucky. Guards escorted me in in a black and white striped jail uniform, wearing handcuffs, and leg shackles. These were for sure continued efforts to intimidate and humiliate - a breaking down process of one's spirit, free will, and self- respect.

I thought I was there for my lawyer to argue motions we discussed and agreed on; a) to have the Judge recused, b) to have the prosecutor recused, and c) to post bail and get back home. Criminal Court motions (not trials) there are routinely scheduled on Mondays with a full courtroom of dozens of cases. This was a Tuesday. Upon arrival, the only people there was a bailiff and a assistant court clerk to operate the video unit for transcript records. They extended friendly and cordial chit chat with me. The bailiff noted, "This case is known around town as 'the divorce from hell!" I thought hmmmm.... his was the same "a bad domestic dispute" spin that Michael Greenberg from California was, and still is, propagating on the internet. I looked at both he and the clerk, and said with a friendly smile, "Where I come from back in Massachusetts, they don't put people in jail for divorces, instead they encourage mediation and mandate counseling where children are involved. When you get a chance, you two should visit" We had other light conversation of how nice the weather was, etc. After about 10 minutes, my public defender attorney came out and sat down next to me and said, "Here's the deal, they are willing to drop all the felony charges against you from the March 1998 indictment and reduce the mess to a misdemeanor offense that will be dismissed and expunged after a year. The only thing they ask for is that you pay for the transportation fees and you will be set free ASAP." There wasn't much to ponder thinking the airfare could only $300 to $500 tops. This whole nightmare
could come to an end. I said "YES!"

Mike Ruschell went back into the "back room" (Judges chambers) to convey our agreement. Approximately 3 minutes later, another bailiff came out and shouted, "All rise, the Court is in session, the Hon. Charles Boteler, Jr. presiding." Right behind the judge was Laura Vannoy's neighbor state prosecutor David Massamore. My lawyer signaled me to come before the bench and stand with him. In leg shackles, I shuffled up there. Danny Dees, the Kentucky Dept. of Corrections employee who alerted the Warick, R.I. police of my being at the Providence Airport to pick up my son 41 days earlier, popped in the court briefly for only a minute, then disappear through the same door that led to the judge's chambers. It was eerie, neither the Judge or Massamore had any eye contact with me. I was certain they were embarrassed to be involved at this point, but had to bring a conclusion to the case giving the appearance that they were not in the wrong. The judge summarized the agreement. My lawyer nodded in agreement. However, Massamore surprised us both by saying he wanted a 'no contact' agreement incorporated for the victim Mrs. Padgett. My lawyer and I were taken back and he immediately objected to the Commonwealth's reference of Ms. Vannoy as being "a victim of any kind." I was thinking, "You've wasted 1000's and 1000's of tax dollars to achieve the ultimate goal of the sect believer's 'disconnect' policies", but I didn't utter a word. We were also concerned this was yet just another ploy to create an opportunity to cause more crime allegations, and that was a civil case issue, not a criminal matter. The judge directed Massamore to draft up the Order, not my lawyer, for all parties to agree on and sign. I was marched out of court and put in a holding cell in the court's basement.

About an hour and a half later, I was taken back to the Hopkins County Jail by Sheriff's squad car. The newly constructed jail was beyond the edge of town in the middle of farmland and fields. Sitting in the back seat I couldn't help think, "Why on earth did they go through so much trouble to bring me here?"

I expected the drafted Order to appear at the jail later that day on the 8th and be set free. I wanted sooooo desperately to see my son while I was there in Madville. I was NOT let go until 2 weeks later on October 22nd. I didn't see the first draft until 2 days later. It was unacceptable. The language was obtuse and ambiguous. The next 14 days was a comedy of back and forth excuses, delays, Massamore not in his office, Judge being on vacation or out of town. So I made handwritten changes and deletions and I signed it. Then I asked my lawyer to post the bail to get me out of this hole, and move for these guys to recuse themselves. A former brother-in-law of mine, still a friend of the Padgett family and an ex Vannoy clansman, came to the jail with $5000 to bail me out on or about the 13th of October.
He was met with opposition from the jailers noting Judge Boteler said "Mr. Padgett has to sign that Order." It was clear to us, that these guys were NEVER going to let me go until I signed this funny piece of paper. Friends and loved ones were urging me to go ahead and do it and get the heck out of Dodge and claim coercion once out of Kentucky. I hung on for another week.

On October 16th, I read in the local newspaper an (AP) article where the Governor of Kentucky had hired a Washington D.C. law firm to defend himself in a case of allegations of a multitude of improprieties, and that this firm's former clients included The Church Of Scientology. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up, accompanied by goose bumps from head to toes.

There was still no release on bail. So we signed the original draft. We also drafted up a "No Contact Agreement" in my civil attorney's office in nearby Providence, KY. I signed that too and had it witnessed. On October 22nd, I found myself on the outside of the jail. It was a beautiful sunny day about 67 degrees. The air was so fresh and alive. My 53 days of being behind bars had come to an end. But, I felted totally railroaded again. I waited for a ride. Not a familiar face or car in sight. It was too far to walk. There were no pay phones nearby either. After an hour, I went back in the jail to use their phone. I called a few people. No answers. About 2 hours later, a very nice lady who was there to visit her son, offered me a lift into town. I accepted it. She turned out to be big help.

All I wanted now was to see my son and make arrangements get back to Massachusetts.

Part 5 (continued) - Kentucky

Prisons and jails are a terrible place for sleeping. The lights are on all the time. The loud clanging of metal cell and corridor doors opening and closing and the constant screaming of angry and insane inmates permeate the air -- it's the epitome of noise pollution. I checked into a little motel. I did some minor shopping at Wal-Mart to get some clothes. All I was wearing was tennis shorts and a polo shirt from when I was snatched in Rhode Island 53 days earlier. It was late summer then. It was now late October. I made a few phone calls. Then I slept for like 14 hours straight.

I stayed in Madville for six nights. Cock roaches in the motel were my only roommates now. At least they were quiet! I tried to get through to my son by phone for several days but was not successful. I did some errands the next few days. I tried to get a copy of the Order that allowed the local County Sheriffs to extract me from Rhode Island. They wouldn't let me have one saying it wasn't public record which I knew wasn't true. I came back with a different approach 2 days later and spoke with the Hopkins County District Attorney with a copy of the Commonwealth's Circuit Court PUBLIC ruling in hand, and demanded to have a copy. He said "well your case is not a county matter" and gave me a copy right away.

My efforts with the Circuit Court Clerk to retrieve the $11,800 overpayment of support were not successful either. She said "I needed to file a motion" but the next hearing day was 10 days away. I wasn't going to stay around for that, and they knew it. I went to the Madville library several times to check the internet to see what was up during my unexpected 9 week side trip. While there, I also got a copy of the Bill of Rights from the Kentucky Constitution. I distributed copies of the "No Contact Agreement" that the Vannoys wanted executed as a condition of my release from the Hopkins Co. Jail.

The day before I left, I was real lucky to have been able to track down my son at his dentist's office in the afternoon. It was great to see him. We hadn't seen each other since last May. He told his mom he was going to be with me for dinner. She couldn't stop him now because he just turned 18. I met his girlfriend - cute little thang. We all had dinner at a local Mexican joint. Beau insisted that I come to his high school the next day.

The next day, I visited North Hopkins Madisonville H.S. where Beau was a senior. I met many of his friends and teachers and got the dime tour. He wanted for us to go out for the morning and just hang out with dad. So we went to the Assist. Principal's office to "check out" for a few hours. She said he couldn't leave with out permission from some one on his guardian list for emergencies. I was not on the list! They called his mother at her work. She was not in. His aunt was next on the list. She was not available either. Last on the list was his Vannoy Grandparents. They got hold of Carl Vannoy. He said "NO, BEAU IS NOT ALLOWED TO GO WITH HIS FATHER!" The Assist Principal told Beau this and he was shocked! He told her "I'm 18 and leaving with my Dad." I was just about to interject my support of Beau's adult wishes, and in strolled the Principal. He had remembered me from playing golf several times about 14 years ago. He was very friendly and pleasant. He gestured for Beau and I to go ahead and leave noting "no problem here at all." Beau got a taste of his grandfather's covert demeanor. I experienced another dose of the "criminal SP, PTS dead beat dad" Black PR from his mom to the Asst. Principal.

We went and had brunch, did a little shopping, got my stuff and checked out of the roach motel. We also scouted out the Grey Hound Bus Lines Station for my transportation out of there. We had some nice chats. We planned his coming to Massachusetts for Thanksgiving. We got him back to high school in time for lunch.

I caught the 12:15pm bus to Nashville, TN to make my way back home. I had so many thoughts going on inside my head from all that occurred in the past 59 days. Some were good and a relief, but some were still very troubling and disturbing as to WHY this happened, and the probability of this nightmare not being over with yet. I knew one of my greatest challenges would be telling this story since it felt like an episode from the "Twilight Zone." When the Grey Hound Bus crossed the Tennessee border, it was cold, grey and rainy. Not being a frequent bus user, I was reminded of the movie Midnight Cowboy and the sad creatures played by Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman returning from there misadventures.


"Two groups in particular appeared to have the most severe impact on their members: the Church of Scientology and extreme Christian fundamentalist sect." "Overall, our survey indicated that, hour for hour, Scientology's techniques may be more than twice as damaging as those of other cults and self help therapies, and up to four times as damaging per hour as the rituals of some other major cult groups!"

From: "SNAPPING - America's Epidemic of Sudden Personality Change" by Flo Conway & Jim Siegelman, Stillpoint Press, NY, NY 1995


PART 6 - Current, Future, and Beyond

Over two years ago, in the fall of 2000, I returned home from Kentucky after being railroaded into a 5 year prison term, only to have been let go after 35 days after the court admitted it made a mistake and had to let me go. During that 35 days, I lost the place where I was living, and my part time job was gone. Two years later, after yet another 53 days of incarceration, I find myself in the same boat. This is where I will be spending most of my time now - damage repair. Both my children have been deeply hurt and confused by these recent months. I will try to help them sort through these intrusions into their simple wishes of wanting a "normal" family to grow up in.

In studying high demand high control groups over the past 9 years, it is evident the people who have the most difficult time in exiting and recovery is when there are still loved ones who remained in - parents, children, siblings, and dear friends. There is no clear opportunity for a clean break from the cult.

One piece of evidence that stands out like a huge sore thumb is, for the past 10 plus years, not once has any so-called minister of the Church of Scientology ever come forth to try to "help" sort things out with our protracted family and perceived legal issues. I have spoke with priests, rabbis, and reverends from mainline faiths, as well as psychologists, psychiatrists, medical doctors, sociologists, etc. Again, NEVER has an official with the scientology entity stepped forward with a helping hand. That's like a big loud bell ringing.

My road to perdition, is now my road to vindication.

I leave one question for all to ponder... IS LEGAL HARASSMENT LEGAL?

Thanks to so many for all their support. help, and patience. It will not be forgotten. God bless.


Hi, Tom

Terrifically inspiring journey, told well.

I remember meeting you in R.I. prison just after you were
incarcerated and through the shock and disappointment and
confusion you maintained your integrity and sense of humor. I
remember saying to you when we first met, "You don't know me
and if I were you I wouldn't trust me, but I want to help". And
you replied, "I've come to a point in my life where I will tell the
truth and let things fall as they will."

I remember you in front of the arraigning judge, you dressed in
those flattering prison blues, unshaven, in pain and the rude and
dismissing nature of that arraigning judge and in spite of that
you walked out with your head held high.

I remember the meetings in prison with your attorney, your
dedication to the details of your case, your helpful information
and succinct telling of the overview of the case that had been
ongoing for some years and through it you maintained an even
keel, did not seek money from any of us, did not wallow in
victim hood, did not take things too led as you
continue to lead.

I remember being in chambers with our judge who I was friendly
with and Mike, your attorney and hoping we could slam dunk
you out of prison and the poor judge who clearly wanted to
spring you could not do so because of the prevailing extradition
laws. This judge studied your case, became familiar with
$cientolgy's methods of harassment and though he could not
get you released he became an ally of the fight against this
destructive org.

I remember traveling on the west coast when I heard Kentucky
had extradited a very sneaky coup...Mike and I still
don't know how they pulled that one off. And I remember talking
with your family and communicating with Tigger and Nancy and
others and tracking you down and writing to you in Kentucky to
offer solace and you were the one who was comforting because
you were handling all of it...alone. Yes, you had support out
here but it was your ass in that cell night after night.

I remember being proud to know you and admiring your
dedication and commitment to see things through.

Keep fighting the good fight.

I'll help as I can.

See you soon.

Peace and respect...JB

Pts 2 wrote:

Hi Tayna:

Not to fret! I DO understand your concerns. Some people think OSA is
some kinda mythical prank on ARS. It's wise to proceed with caution for
your own protection, and as you say, how best to utilize effective
exposure efforts "behind the scenes."

I did sense your ARS posts were "intentional"
to flush out "programmed responses!" :) You've obviously done your
homework. Some of mine were too - especially the Diane R. episodes.
Her subtle pro-cult hints intrigued me to no end, so I had to challange
her.... and her $cieno boy friend too.

Send me a copy of the edit you did on the "My Road To Perdition."
Curious! I'm know I am harsh at times re: $cn - I've experiencd their
dark side too many times it seems to be
"light." Fortunately I'm bright enough to recognize this flaw in me,
and seek help in "toning down" things.

Re: my daughter, she just graduated form Univ.
of S.C. and accepted a job in FL. and is in training. She's on the
Atlantic coast (Melbourne Beach) a distance away from the Co$ enclaves.
The Boston Area coordinator, Nancy Crosby, for FOCUS (see: ) will be meeting with her in a the next day or so.
Wish I could be there. I'm busy here in western KY doing an
"intervention" with my son. Making some progress through. Cult
"thought reform" is such a complex problem -- even the brightest and
well-intended get dupped! Add family tough love and it's sometimes

Enough for now.