Received: by alpheratz.cpm.aca.mmu.ac.uk id UAA04134 (8.6.9/5.3[ref pg@gmsl.co.uk] for cpm.aca.mmu.ac.uk from fmb-majordomo@mmu.ac.uk); Fri, 18 Jan 2002 20:09:46 GMT Message-Id: <5.1.0.14.0.20020118150638.02c419e0@pop.cogeco.ca> X-Sender: hkhenson@pop.cogeco.ca X-Mailer: QUALCOMM Windows Eudora Version 5.1 Date: Fri, 18 Jan 2002 15:07:08 -0500 To: memetics@mmu.ac.uk From: Keith Henson <hkhenson@cogeco.ca> Subject: Re: Scientology 4/4 In-Reply-To: <4e.511c572.2978c6be@aol.com> Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed Sender: fmb-majordomo@mmu.ac.uk Precedence: bulk Reply-To: memetics@mmu.ac.uk
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From: Keith Henson (hkhenson@netcom3.netcom.com)
Subject: Re: Back in Hemet
Newsgroups: alt.religion.scientology
View: Complete Thread (79 articles) | Original Format
Date: 2000/07/22
Today . . .
One of Ida's neighbors, Bill, has been watching the PIs for a few weeks.
He was uncertain if the PIs broiling in the sun were related to my being
here, so he wanted to set up a test. There was one out there this
morning. Immediately after I drove off, the PI went after me. Bill is
hard to convince, so we will do it again in the morning.
I got out to gold base at 7. I parked on the extreme east end this time.
I got my thugs again, with slightly modified abuse today. I only had half
an hour, and from that end to the Ashlee Shaner memorial and back took all
the time I had. In fact, I had the thugs out of breath by the time I got
back to the car.
I went back to Ida's to stash signs, and find out the result of the PI
test. I had a mission which took up the major part of the day, so I
headed out. This time I went south to pick up the next major east/west
road, Stetson. Just across Stetson two of the PIs were talking from one
car to another. (The built-up area ends at Stetson.) So instead of just
turning to the west I went across to give the PIs some friendly
directions. The one in the gold car with no license (new from a dealer,
Villa Honda) responded in a friendly way, but the other one in a white car
was either a clam or *really* sick of being roasted in the heat. I told
both I was off to the airport (true) and got a comment that I should go
back home. I asked if he worked for XXXX since that was the last license
which came up. He was not pleased to be asked such a question and claimed
not to be working for anyone. After I got his license, Cal 2ZDA834, and
started down the road so I could get a place to do a U turn, he pulled
along side my car, forcing me to the side of the road. Between some
braking and accelerating, I got behind him far enough to do a U turn and
headed back to Stetson.
When I got to Stetson, and was in the left turn lane, he pulled along side
me and informed me that if I ran his plate it would come back police, so
"quit bugging me." I was surprised by such a claim, so I said "You with
the police?" Too which he replied "Yeah, now knock this shit off, quit
bugging me." To which I replied, "Which police? Which police are you
with? He made some comment about showing me his badge and a threat about
running his license. Ok, I won't. Someone else can run it. :-)
Traffic cleared at that point and I turned left heading west on Stetson.
I had an interesting conversation with 911 about dangerous driving thugs.
This one was in a white car, and he might have realized he had stepped
over the line because I didn't see him again.
At least three of them followed me over to Ontario to the airport where I
picked up my wife and daughter. My daughter is going to a nearby college
this fall, and we were going there to discuss the hard-to-believe threats
(made by Rosen on the last deposition transcript) against her with the
university administration. I made a few tries to shake them in the
airport and got the airport police to stop one of them and shake him down
for identification. My wife was very, very annoyed at these bozos, and
tried to confront one of them, but when she got near he backed up, then
drove ahead. She worked off some of the energy by chasing him down the
freeway shoulder for a quarter mile or so. At that point she jumped back
in the car and we chased him down I 10 to the west. (There was no license
place on this one, new car, gold color, which said Villa Honda). The guy
got tape of her shaking a fist and yelling at him. (My wife tends to take
clams/clam PIs too seriously.)
This dude took the I 15 exit, so we followed him north a few exits, while
on the phone with the California Highway Patrol. They couldn't get a unit
in place and in any case, following someone is not a crime if you have a
PI license. Eventually we went back to I 10 and on out to Redlands with
at least two and I think three PI cars following.
We wondered if the streets in Redlands college were private and the PIs
could be told by campus security to knock it off, so we called them as we
were turning onto the campus. Boy, did we get a response! I managed to
get one of the PIs tangled up on a narrow road and the campus security
trapped him there. Edwin Richardson was in the other car which came by to
bail the first one out of this jam. The campus security called the
Redlands cops and a number of them responded. It was a zoo for a while
with 2 or three PIs, four cop cars and about 6 cops. As usual the cops
concluded that there was nothing they could do about it, but the hoorah
sure solved our problem of getting the university people to *believe* our
mad story about being hassled by the evil cult and the threat Rosen made
against our daughter. (I got a bunch of names of security people and
cops, but it seems pointless to include them.) Anyway, the university
people were boggled by the trapped PI story which rapidly spread around
campus, and had no problem believing our story, especially when the
administration got a phone call within ten minutes of the confrontation
with campus security asking if my daughter was enrolled there. The
University does not give out such information, so the only thing the phone
call confirmed was the ugly nature of the cult of scientology.
We didn't see any more of them, though they might have followed us back to
Ida's.
Keith Henson
Reporting from the Hemet front.
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