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2 Scythe Tleppo by Nathan Rich Copyright © 2018 Dynasty Systems, LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non- commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author: nathanrich.online/contact This book is not affiliated with Scientology or any of its corporations or entities. Limited copyrighted material used in what Dynasty Systems, LLC believes is covered by Section 107 of the US Copyright Law, “Limitations on exclusive rights: Fair use.” The use of quotes by public figures is not an endorsement by or for them or their views. No research was done into the beliefs or history of those quoted. Instead, the quotes are taken as valuable on their own. The recollections contained in this book are presented as true from the perspective of the author. For readability, some events were consolidated. No names, places or events have been masked. Kindle Edition, v1.80 Kindle ISBN: 978-1-949629-00-2 Paperback ISBN: 978-1-949629-99-6 3 For those who will never be able to tell their stories Thank you for allowing me to tell mine. 4 5 Introduction “Do you take pride in your race?” The question was so far from my reality, the words nearly didn’t register. My head rotated slowly on the wooden floor towards the source of the voice: blackness. My eyes searched for movement, but could only stare through the walls to the trees. My head rolled back upwards to gaze at the star-filled sky. There was no roof to this cabin in the woods. The stars were like eyes peering back at me. I wondered if this was all life had to offer me: pain and betrayal. The exterior of my cheap, borrowed sleeping bag felt cold on my arms so I pulled them in to feel my body heat. “Not really,” I replied to the unknown entity in the void. What manner of insanity am I in now? How long will this new nightmare last? The crackling of a fire somewhere outside the log cabin meant the security guard was here to stay. The sounds of the woods led me to sleep that night. I woke up to the smell of campfire smoke in cold air. There were people outside the cabin; I knew who they were — unwanted children, like me. I rose to my feet slowly and went out the cabin door, past a wood stove used for heat and light within the cabin. Outside, I found dirty kids gathered around a campfire, staring blankly into the flames. A tin can rumbled as the water inside came to a boil. The security guard on watch was a big man, connected via his military radio to an unknown number of other security forces. Campfire smoke wafted around the cabin and whispered a chilling message: You’re never leaving here; not this time. I knew I was in serious trouble and no one was going to help me; I was alone. * * * I hope that there is some discernible value in the words I manage to impart. I hope that someone, somewhere can benefit from my story. If you know anyone who could profit from this book in their own lives or relationships, I urge you to share it with them. I have not lived this life for others, but I offer up a portion of its events as currency to those who can cash it in. So many people have harmed me over the years and a few have helped me. I have harmed a few and now I attempt to help many. Anyone interested is welcome to examine my story. For those with knowledge and experiences to share with me, I welcome them wholeheartedly. Everyone’s story is important. Everyone makes impacts on the world. Some 6 people have helped save my life in ways they may not have ever known, sometimes completely unintentionally. One of those people could have been you. Thank you for your support. Nathan Rich 7 8 1 The Meet My mother once described to me the moment of my birth – “There were all these beings circling me. We picked each other. I saw you. You were just like ‘BOOM! This is my body!’” And that’s how it happened – we met when I was still in spirit form, at Los Angeles’ Cedars-Sinai hospital in 1982. I assumed control of the life she was creating, and two days later, just forty minutes before Valentine’s Day, I was born as her new baby boy. The Beginning It all started in 1951 when World War II veteran Martin Rich married the love of his life – Frances Fefercorn. Martin was a first generation American, born in New York City to a Polish-Austrian Jew family. Frances was adopted in Minnesota, but they both ended up in Los Angeles, where they found each other and made a new family. They had three Jewish daughters: Sharon was born in 1953, Arlene in 1956 and finally, my mother Julie in 1959. They grew up together in Woodland Hills, California, in a time of big changes for the country. Communism, The Vietnam War and the hippie drug culture were major cultural influences in those days. Uncertainty about the future was a real problem in the United States; there was trouble in the air. Sharon, the eldest, discovered an antidote to that trouble when she was just a teenager, something which promised to solve all of life’s problems. In the 1970’s she began practicing “Scientology,” a faith system, commonly described as a cult, with several thousand members. One by one, it spread to the other family members. Scientology, according to its founder, Lafayette Ronald Hubbard, is “not a psycho-therapy nor a religion,” but a “body of knowledge which, when properly used, gives freedom and truth to the individual.” It’s a body of texts and practices designed and built by Lafayette. Though he preferred to be called “L. Ron Hubbard,” I prefer to call him “Lafayette.” The fundamental ideas of Scientology revolve around some questionable “truths”: We’re all “thetans” (spirits, also called “beings”). The way science currently determines the age of the universe is wrong. Its actual age, according to 9 Lafayette, is many quadrillions of years. We thetans have existed for a comparable amount of time and were originally all-powerful gods, but over time, we have done so many things to everyone else that we have become degraded. Scientology claims to possess the steps to unravel the damage done and return us to our native state – godlike. As it spread through the family, the girls grew up and made families of their own. The sisters each married Scientologists and raised Scientology children. It was the beginning of a new family. The Author Sharon married Tom Macintyre, and together had a daughter, Juliet. Sharon reached Scientology’s first major milestone, “the State of Clear,” in 1978, followed by Frances in 1979. A “Clear” has no “compulsions, repressions, neuroses [or] psychoses.” Clears are “in a state of highest possible rationality.” The marriage didn’t last long, despite her best efforts. After the divorce, she took Juliet to Manhattan. New York City has a bigger fan base for her books than LA. Sharon writes books about Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy, two silver- screen movie stars from Hollywood’s golden age. The Devotee Arlene married Jacques Kasparian, an immigrant from Lebanon and they bore my cousin Aliza Kasparian. Arlene and Jacques’ marriage also fell apart quickly. After the divorce, Arlene took Aliza and joined Scientology’s Sea Organization in Florida. The Sea Organization is an officially-affiliated group of devout Scientologists dressed in sailor costumes. They spend their lives working for the corporation that is Scientology, carrying out their mission – get everyone on Earth to that first milestone: “Clear.” Aliza grew up in the Cadet Org, Scientology’s “children of the Sea Org” program, in a tiny studio apartment in one of Scientology’s many staff-only buildings. The Rebel My mother, Julie, married Brian Alexander Crum. He changed his last name to his middle name because my mother didn’t like “Crum” as a family name. And so, she was Julie Alexander and he was Brian Alexander. I was born that fateful night named simply “Alexander” – Alexander, the soul that inhabited Julie’s baby boy. I always liked the name Alexander; something about it sounds Roman and strong. My parents chose a different first name for me though; I was renamed to the more practical, “Nathan Alexander.” 10