Ex Scientology Kids

In October 2007, I was involved in a car accident in Burbank, CA. I was sitting in the passenger seat and the side airbag deployed. It struck my elbow with incredible force and I was in a lot of pain.

Immediately after the accident, I was struggling to open the door when a woman opened it for me and helped me out. She sat me on a nearby bus bench and examined my elbow. Her name was Cherry DeDear.

Once Cherry determined that my elbow was not broken, just badly bruised and swollen, she asked me if I would like to take a walk. In retrospect, this was an odd question considering the circumstances. I looked at my boyfriend, who was driving the car. He was exchanging information with the driver who hit us and he appeared to be okay. I was probably in a state of shock because I agreed to take a walk with Cherry.

We walked to a nearby gas station where she bought me a bottle of water and got ice for my arm. Then she said something even more peculiar, “I am going to audit you, are you ready?”

At this point I guess I assumed she was a nurse, and I was in no position to say no to a possible nurse stranger who just bought me water after a traumatizing experience, so I said yes. Then, in a completely monotone voice, seemingly to no one, she said, “Begin audit.”

She pointed to a restaurant sign across the street, “Do you see that sign?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She pointed to a bird. “Do you see that bird?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She pointed to the ground.” Do you see the ground?”

I thought to myself: Great. Not only did I just get into a car accident, but now I am probably going to be mugged by this crazy woman who preys on people in venerable states of mind. I looked down, waited for her to hit me, and very hesitantly said, “Yes, I see the ground.”

“Good. You’re doing very good.”

“How can I be doing good? I’m just looking at things. Are you a nurse?” And then she laid it on me.

“No, I am a minister of Scientology.” And in the monotone voice she said, “End Audit.”

As we walked back to the accident I was thinking about how, in a way, she was taking advantage of my venerable state of mind. I appreciated the water but I was expecting her to ask for my contact info so that she could bombard my mailbox with Scientology propaganda and try to recruit me.

I have to say, she never asked. She even offered to leave her info in case we needed a witness. Cherry stayed just long enough to find out that everything was okay, and then she left.

I didn’t think about her much after the accident until one day in mid January. I watched a leaked Scientology video of Tom Cruise. In it he says something about when Scientologists pass an accident, they have to stop because they know they are the only ones who can help.

A tingle went down my spine. I was pretty creeped out to say the least. But all in all, I don’t know what to make of it.

Is it a coincidence that Tom Cruise used the example of a car accident to demonstrate what good samaritans Scientologists are? Is stopping at the scene of accidents something Scientologists regularly practice? Or was Cherry at that conference where the Tom video originally aired and was so influenced by him that she now regularly audits at car accidents?

If you can shed light on any of this, would like to comment on my story, or if you possibly know Cherry DeDear, please reply. I would love to hear what you have to say.

Best,
Jackie

Bwahahah! I'm not laughing at you, just the story.

You were given what Scientologists call "a locational". All Scientologists have experienced this at some point. The idea of it is when someone is upset, in shock, or in a bad frame of mind, the "locational" is supposed to get your attention "extroverted".

Pretty harmless process, as you noticed. Just involves looking at stuff.

My mom used to give me locationals when I was sea sick. Never worked. [edit] I'd be sitting there, with my stomach churning, desperately looking where my mom pointed and wanting to throw up. My poor mom! I remember one time when we were out at sea on a whaling trip, and I was sooo seasick, and she kept trying to give me a locational, but there was nothing to point at but water and more water. "Look at that, uh... rock. Thank you. Look at that piece of seaweed. Thank you." Oh, man.

The kids at my school used to do them on each other when we'd been upset. Like if you've got someone who's crying at school because of something, the teacher will ask one of the other kids to give you a locational.

I got a whole lot of those when I was going through my leaving Scientology process. Probably because I was pissed off and crying just about every day.

Left Scientology anyway, though, so hey.

Locationals never worked for me either. Nor did Touch Assits, Contact Assists... or Auditing or that matter. Its pretty much all BS. It works for people who want and need it to work. Its a placebo phenomenon.

But no, Jackie, that you ran into a Scientologist and that Tom Cruise happened to mention a car accident was probably just coincidence. Afterall, most things are simply coincidence.

This thread reminded me of a time my poor ol deluded father (OT 3) was working on a jobsite and he was doing some roofing. He was chugging away, laying shingles when he decided to stop for a moment to take a break. When he headed down the roof to get to the ladder her saw that in the backyard, the pool man who had been cleaning the pool was floating facedown in the pool. Not good.

So my dad being the good man that he is, got off the roof in a hurry, dove into the pool and proceeded to haul the dead dude out. He then began to run the "Doing a bunk" assist. This is an assist designed to revive a dead person. No shit. Well... needless to say, it did not work. Paramedics came and told my dad the dude was WAYYY to deaad to have come back to life with anything - nevermind his silly assist.

Dad cam home a broken man that night. I remember listening to him sobbing quietly in the living room with my mom trying to console him. Poor dad could not figure out why 1. his OT powers had failed him and 2. the assist did nothing to bring the dude back to life.

I think I was about 7 when this went down. It left a very lasting impression on me. I made damn sure I learned how to do CPR on a person. Never did learn how to run the "Doing a bunk" assist.

Funny thing is, flash forward to when I was 18 - I saved my own dad's life with... first aid! I did not give him an assist. I applied a much needed tourniquet to a VERY bad owie from a table saw.

Assist are a joke. Don't get me started on all the guys who gave me a "Nerve Assist" in order to feel up my boobs.