Can someone email a copy of whatever John Underwood, or any other "Seed" staff member has posted on this site? Any news articles, or any information, such as names, ect. of former staff members.
email@stackjones.com.
I especially am interested in statements made by Seed staff from the early period. 1970's. From the Blimp Hanger era, the Ft. Lauderdale, and Tropical Park era.
I was 14, when I was forced into that program through lies and deceptions. I was forced to admit I did drugs in front of parent visitors, or I was told I would never go home again. In actuality, I had never done drugs. I'll never forget my words, as I sat in the front row speaking to my mom. During my intro. I said I smoked pot once, smoked hash once, and did THC once. My mother told me I only had to be there one week. I asked her if she was going to take me home that night. She said No! That was the beginning of the nightmare called the Seed. A couple years later when I was only 16, a former witch known as Debbie, would go do the Castaway Docks, of the old Castaways hotel, and was always, more disgusting stoned than any person I had ever seen. She was trying to prostitute herself for drug money. She died of a drug overdose, and I recall reveling in that information. How sad.
My two sister's were forced in the program, and we all had to start over. I started over because one snitch at high school told the Seed staff I was talking to my old "druggy" friends. One, who was her cousin. And he didn't do drugs. What was my conversation with those druggies? It began like this... I hadn't been to school in weeks, and suddenly appeared. Word was out, and I had been a very popular kid. I had a white button down shirt, like a glam rocker would wear. I had on plaid cuffed bell-bottoms, and white clogs. I was "previously" a surfer. I simply was begging my friends to NOT talk to me, they kept asking me why? Why? I was nearly in tears from fear, and was about to run away, when I saw her. Her name was Julie, a fat cow seedling. She was hiding in the corner and watching, me but far enough off that she couldn't hear my words. I started over that night, and that entire evening was devoted in spending the evening in abusive torture. I was started over, and spent more than 30 days away from home the second time around. 17 days the first time.
One year in that mess, my father finally came home from his job in Boston, where he was a boat captain. He came to the Seed evening meeting, where they had started my two sister's over for walking outside at night. They too endured an endless evening of screams, and being called whores, etc. My one sister was a mere 13.
But, my three cousins who had never done drugs were also thrown in the program. Three girls. They were 9, 11, and 14.
I was sent to a psychiatrist while attending the Seed. Ordered by staff, because of my constant non-compliance. I began the meeting by telling the shrink to lay down on his sofa and tell me his problems. He smiled, and asked me what was going on?
I told him I hated the Seed and all I really wanted was to go back to school, and to surf. The shrink literally wrote a letter for me to give to the staff, I believe his name was Dennis. The letter stated that I was a surfer, and came from a boating family. That letter gave me "permanent" permission to go surfing. I put back on my corduroy Levi's, striped surfer shirts, thongs and was allowed to grow my hair back, which the Seed cut.
You know those movies about Priests that commit rape on innocent children who were kidnapped, and tortured to death? I liken the Seed to those priests. I am sure curious, if anybody has ever murdered any of those staff members. I am actually surprised that nobody ever murdered, Art Barker. Torture and murder, of one man, is far less suffering than what the thousands of children had suffered at his hands, for profit, under that diabolical experiment.
That program helped nobody. Indeed!
