Los Angeles, Ca. At 7:55 a.m. on Tuesday, August 29, 2000, L.Ron Hubbard Way, that section of Berendo Street between Sunset Boulevard and Fountain Avenue, was a hive of early morning activity. Pseudo-naval uniformed Scientology Sea Organization staffers were bustling back and forth across the street. Others were enjoying an early morning cup of coffee. Scientology vehicles were traveling about their business and all seemed well at the Pacific Area Command Base (the "PAC Base"). Another "up stat" day for "OTs?". Then I walked around the corner and took the base by surprise. Like felons fleeing the scene of their crime, the staffers hastily grabbed their coffee cups and dashed down to the PAC cafeteria. Vehicles disappeared and staffers were ushered from the street by Base Security. Within two minutes the entire length of L.Ron Hubbard Way was deserted, except for two bicycle security patrols, two other security staffers, a uniformed Sea Organization ("S.O.") officer, a plain-clothes staffer who is always posted at the Fountain Avenue parking building and there was me. White sneakers, blue jeans, black "Scientology Kills" T-Shirt and my regular Picket Sign reading on two sides: "Scientology-Church of Fair Game" and "LRH was on Psych drugs when he died." Once I had the street "cleared" I set about my picketing "cycle" of activity. Initially, it was a clockwise stroll from Fountain up past PAC Berthing, the PAC cafeteria, American Saint Hill Organization and then across and down past the Advanced Organization of Los Angeles. Some of the staffers in berthing were still in their bunk beds and others still in their rooms. Many of them played "peek-a-boo" from behind the curtains. Some even smiled and gave me the thumbs up! After 9 a.m. the "public" members "on course" began arriving. Most would walk from the Fountain Avenue Parking building across the street to the Advanced Organization building. Many were escorted by either the plain-clothes staffer or the uniformed staffer. I greeted many of them with a very cheery "Good morning!" Rarely did I get a response. Several asked how I was. "Not bad for an SP," I would reply. I treated staffers with similar courtesy. "Good morning. Great day for SPs! How is it for OTs?" Others I would wish a "happy upstat day." However, most of the reactions and responses were disappointing. Scientology literature represents that OTs are very happy people. However, these scientology staffers seemed burdened by BTs and Clusters. Uniformly they were scowling and unsmiling. Several questioned the source of my "data" on Hubbard's death on psych drugs. "Vistiril," I told them. "And there were ten recent needle-marks on his buttocks!" Perhaps I should corroborate my revelations with a copy of the death certificate. One large security officer kept running TR-O on me. Another I told, "Get your TRs in!" At one point a rather drab and dreary woman plain clothes staffer tried to crowd me and to block my picket sign with one of her own. "Don't stalk me. DM would not enjoy paying for your defense to a stalking charge." I then started to sing, "I'm forever cuddling squirrels" to the tune of "I'm forever blowing bubbles." She backed off and returned to keeping staffers from exiting the buildings and crossing the street. Another security officer photographed the back of my "Scientology Kills" t-shirt. To an arriving "public" on course I said, "Save yourself $150,000. Read the back of my shirt." Further up the street a large bundle of expensive looking picket signs were loaded into a vehicle. They contained slogans directed against religious discrimination in Germany! I took an occasional stroll around to see Bridge Publication's office and Author Services, always returning before the staffers could take advantage of my absence and scurry across the street. And so it was for three hours and fifteen minutes. A very deserted L.Ron Hubbard Way and little lonely me with my picket sign, but unlike those hundreds of sour unsmiling faces, I was beaming with happiness, health and fulfillment, and cheerfully serving the surviving victims of scientology. Then I moved out just as suddenly as I had arrived. Poof, and I was gone. At 11:30 a.m. I rounded the corner of Ivar Avenue and Hollywood Boulevard. There I dismayed the staffers at the L. Ron Hubbard Life Exhibit and the Office of Special of Affairs ("OSA") of the Church of Scientology International ("CSI"). Blue uniformed SO staffers were hurriedly herded off the sidewalks and back into the buildings. "Wow, the power of one! " yelled one passer-by. "Scientology Kills?" questioned another passer-by. I replied, " Yes, the only Church with a body count. Go ask Lisa McPherson, Roxanne Friend, Flo Barnett, Yvonne Jentzch, L.Ron Hubbard, Quentin Hubbard, Stacy Moxon, Noah Lottick and others. Oh, no, you can't . . . They're already dead!" One young staffer kept rushing around the building on various projects." How come they let you confront the SP?" He replied, "I'm the only one who can handle you!" And so it was for an hour. Few Homo Novis staffers were able to enter or exit the building during the early lunch period and the passer-bys enjoyed the sight of one lonely picketer while a building full of OTs, at cause over matter, energy, space and time ("M.E.S.T.") were . . . NOT! The very Rev. Lynn Farney, one time W.D.C. O.S.A. and C.S.I. secretary came down and feverishly photographed me. "Hey Lynn. I'll make it easy for you." And I walked toward him and his camera, flashing my frequent "V" sign and giving him good views of my picket sign and t-shirt. Later I spotted him laughing with a security staffer in the OSA lobby. I flashed him my "V" wave (just like Nixon used to) and my "LRH died on Psyche drugs picket sign." He scowled at me and hastened to the elevators and back to the safety of other cowering OTs and viewing screens of the building cameras. At 12:25 p.m. I rounded the corner from Hollywood Boulevard to Ivar Street and walked towards my car. A car careened around the corner and sped up the street, screeching to a halt opposite my car. It was Parking Enforcement. "Hey. That car still has 5 minutes on the meter." "No," she said. "It's expired." I said, "You couldn't see that from the direction you came from or from where you parked. Scientology called you?" "So what? It's expired." "So you, the City of LA, are acting as an harassment arm of OSA and selectively enforcing the laws." "Well, there are other cars on expired meters." "How would you know? You haven't looked or written any tickets." "Keep the phone records," I said. "I will be seeking them in discovery, and all other records of similar communications between OSA and the City of Los Angeles. On the other hand, when Scientology's lawyer Gerald Chaleff is Chairman of the Los Angeles Police Commission, what else can one expect?" The exchange reminded me of a conversation with a neighbour of the Celebrity Center where I had picketed with Keith Henson the day before. The neighbour had told me of early morning gun practices on the secluded Celebrity Center grounds. Then she told about a disturbing scene that she had once witnessed from her window. Someone had been trying to jump out of one of the Celebrity Center upper floor windows. However, others dragged him back from the edge. She called the Los Angeles Police Department. They arrived, but were not interested in investigating further. She said her and her neighbours had long ago concluded that the LAPD was cozy with the Scientologists. Yes, the same L.A.P.D. which the Federal Court has just ruled can be sued for R.I.C.O. violations. Just like OSA and its legal unit can be sued (for R.I.C.O. violations) as a result of the new Cipriano declaration and other testimony recanting his earlier perjury. And there are more recants to come! Outside the OSA offices one passer by said, "These people are dangerous. They are going to be very mad at you. Why are you doing this?" "First," I said, "they can hardly be madder at me than they already are. Second, they should have been more careful what they wished and worked for. They wanted me in the streets, homeless and "utterly destroyed" by Fair Game. They destroyed my career with suborned perjury, witness tampering and obstructions of justice. Now they have me in the streets. Consequently, I have nothing else to do, or left, but to give interviews, publish books, build electronic archives and picket them for the rest of my life, on behalf of all the victims of Scientology," (including Rick Moxon who is always welcome to knock on my door and seek assistance in getting to Stacy Brooks' Safe House). I would love to help him get his life back, to enjoy spiritual freedom, freedom of the soul and free will. Then too it would be wonderful for him to know joy, love and truth; things that scientology promises to deliver but fails to do. And as I told many passers-by, both yesterday and today, "If you don't believe me then click on www.xenu.net or www.lerma.com." With greetings to Xenu, Graham Berry.