1
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Atlanta
« on: November 11, 2006, 10:35:41 AM »
Who is planning to attend the Atlanta memorial?
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2
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / St Pete 1981-1983 Anyone?
« on: June 23, 2006, 09:18:00 PM »
Hi Pegasus
I went in late 1980 & not free & clear until Oct 1983. I'm Marsha G. I was and am still, short blonde & loathe Miller Newton. Those years were totally out of control. I still can't believe they got away with it all.
I don't remember you but then I don't remember a lot of things until somone or something jogs my memory.
Welcome.
I went in late 1980 & not free & clear until Oct 1983. I'm Marsha G. I was and am still, short blonde & loathe Miller Newton. Those years were totally out of control. I still can't believe they got away with it all.
I don't remember you but then I don't remember a lot of things until somone or something jogs my memory.
Welcome.
Since you [US "drug tsar" McCaffrey] control a federal budget that has just been increased from $17.8 billion last year to $19.2 billion this year, is asking people like you if we should continue with our nation's current drug policy like a person asking a barber if one needs a haircut? --
Orange Country, California
Los Angeles Times
29 March 2000
--Judge James P. Gray
3
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Who was the worst staff and why?
« on: April 28, 2006, 11:38:00 PM »
Dr Evil himself, Miller Newton gets my vote. Not only did he invent humiliating punishments and cruel "therapy" he sold them. He branded the madness and took it national. Then, when Straight began to crumble he invented Straight version 2.0 - KIDS and took that nationwide. Nobody in the western hemisphere has directed more child abuse than Virgil Miller Newton aka Father Cassian.
The Doc wins for his creative punishments, unbelievable audacity and shamelessness in sales, colossal power tripping egomania and the sheer volume of lives affected. But I don't think anyone ENJOYED torture & humiliation more than Wanda Minton. She liked hurting us. Savored it. Studied you while you stood in your piss or cried for water during her infamous exercise raps. She looked you in the eye when she called you a selfish little whore. 85 DJ, I enjoyed your post. She did bear a striking resemblance to an orangutan. But you left out the hawkish nose, predatory sneer and hard little eyes. Remorseless. I remember the way her lip would curl up with disgust & pleasure both whenever she ripped up some little girl. Makes my skin crawl even now.In my nightmares she's half mad queen from Alice in Wonderland screaming "Off with their heads!"and half Wicked Witch of the West shrieking & cackling at vulnerable Dorothy. The cruelty was harsher from her because she liked it so much.
There were others I guess. Kathleen Wynn had a cruel streak and enjoyed herself at my expense more than once and Shawn Arnow was a vicious shrieker. But in my book, no one is even a close second to Wanda.
The Doc wins for his creative punishments, unbelievable audacity and shamelessness in sales, colossal power tripping egomania and the sheer volume of lives affected. But I don't think anyone ENJOYED torture & humiliation more than Wanda Minton. She liked hurting us. Savored it. Studied you while you stood in your piss or cried for water during her infamous exercise raps. She looked you in the eye when she called you a selfish little whore. 85 DJ, I enjoyed your post. She did bear a striking resemblance to an orangutan. But you left out the hawkish nose, predatory sneer and hard little eyes. Remorseless. I remember the way her lip would curl up with disgust & pleasure both whenever she ripped up some little girl. Makes my skin crawl even now.In my nightmares she's half mad queen from Alice in Wonderland screaming "Off with their heads!"and half Wicked Witch of the West shrieking & cackling at vulnerable Dorothy. The cruelty was harsher from her because she liked it so much.
There were others I guess. Kathleen Wynn had a cruel streak and enjoyed herself at my expense more than once and Shawn Arnow was a vicious shrieker. But in my book, no one is even a close second to Wanda.
If people let government decide what foods they eat and what medicines they take, their bodies will soon be in as sorry a state as are the souls of those who live under tyranny.
http://lfb.com/?stocknumber=FF7485&code=10247' target='_new'>Thomas Jefferson
4
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / research
« on: April 21, 2006, 09:07:00 PM »
Check out Help At Any Cost. She's compiled a lot of information about Straight, KHK, Bootcamps and the industry in general. There's a whole chapter regarding our very own Miler Newton aka Doktor Miller Newton aka Father Cassian.
Men had better be without education than be educated by their rulers.
--Thomas Hodgskin
5
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Samantha's statement
« on: April 21, 2006, 08:50:00 PM »
And down the rabbit hole we go.......
I can't speak for Sammie but I believe her. Since I was there around the same time, her story is not only plausible but a little too familiar. I was in Straight St Pete in 1980, '81 and part of '82. I was not allowed the "privilege" of using the restroom on many occasions and on three that I can remember, I wet myself. The first time was in homes rap.It was November or December and we were sitting on that cold concrete floor for hours.I'd requested urgently and repeatedly to use the bathroom. Kathleen Wynn was jr staff then. She merely rolled her eyes. But Wanda had a field day.Wanda Minton was Sr staff. Homes ran long because there were so many girls in group. The boys side had already picked up their bologna sandwiches.Several girls were desperate. I was sweating, crying. My gut was distended, grotesque. And Wanda came unglued."If you girls have to go to the GD bathroom so GD bad you can just go on the fucking floor 'cause you're not going!"
I had not misbehaved in any way. I had followed the rules. My crime was being accustomed to eating, drinking and then relieving myself like a sane human being.
Shortly after Wanda's outburst I couldn't hold it any longer. Two other girls followed suit. I was required to continue sitting in it. I stood in a puddle of my own urine to be reviewed for homes rap. Kathleen burst out laughing and then told me I was disgusting.She said I made her sick. Wanda called on people to tell me how disgusting I was. I was started over, put on the pb&j diet and then made to sit in it for the rest of the afternoon. Around 4 or 5:00 L.A. came and got me. I cleaned up everbody's pee. Had to wring the mop out with my hands. They gave me some green polyester pants that were about 4 sizes too big. I sat at the back of the group during open meeting. The group was massive so there were about 700 or 800 people in for open meeting. My parents were at the very back. They saw nothing.
I went to the foster home that night. My oldcomer asked me why I did that. Like this physiological requirement was some big mystery to everybody. They acted as if it was an act of rebellion. And I bought it. I kept saying I didn't know. I berated myself in my MI. What was wrong with me that I had to urinate with such regularity?
You asked about the fosters. They were a mixed bag but remember they were getting "therapy" too. We would all die if they didn't d exactly what they were told.This particular family happened to be very nice. But when they were told that I was on pb & j and I could only have 2 pcs of toast and a dixie cup of oj at breakfast, that's what I got. All my other meals were at Straight. I believe my foster mother did intervene at one point though. After about a month on pb&j I lost a lot of weight. You know in that era we were wearing our pants as tight as possible. After almost on month on pb&j I could put both my hands all the way to my elbow inside my cords and touch my knees. While sitting down...I showed my foster mom. I was off pb&j the next day. Of course that didn't stop them from putting me on it twice more.
They dispensed medication regularly. I have no idea what it was. I was given medication after my third or fourth round of wetting myself, a staff trainee came and got one day and took me to the medication line. Told me I had a bladder infection. I wondered how they could tell since I barely spoke and I'd not seen a Dr since my charming initial exam. But I didn't know. I was 15. Barely. I thought maybe they had some training -could tell by the way I sat or stood. I got medication-a little blue pill for a week or two. I was then pronounced well-again without the aid of a Dr.
I can't speak to the menses. My period stopped the minute I walked through the double doors into group the first time. I didn't get a period again until I was on second or third phase. PS that was like 9 months later. I didn't talk to my fosters about that. I only saw them for a few hours on Sundays. Otherwise it was o'dark thirty in the morning or 10:00, 11:00, 12:00 at night.We were trying to get moral inventories done so that we could get to bed. Everyone was desperate for sleep. Including the foster parents. So not so much conversation going on.
I'm glad you didn't experience that stuff. I appreciate you asking really. I mean all of this is like Wonderland, crazy stuff. I'm sure lots of people new to this site are thinking it. But I don't have the luxury of believing that those mad things didn't happen to Sammie. Or anyone else. Because they happened to me too.
Any more questions?
whiterabbit
I can't speak for Sammie but I believe her. Since I was there around the same time, her story is not only plausible but a little too familiar. I was in Straight St Pete in 1980, '81 and part of '82. I was not allowed the "privilege" of using the restroom on many occasions and on three that I can remember, I wet myself. The first time was in homes rap.It was November or December and we were sitting on that cold concrete floor for hours.I'd requested urgently and repeatedly to use the bathroom. Kathleen Wynn was jr staff then. She merely rolled her eyes. But Wanda had a field day.Wanda Minton was Sr staff. Homes ran long because there were so many girls in group. The boys side had already picked up their bologna sandwiches.Several girls were desperate. I was sweating, crying. My gut was distended, grotesque. And Wanda came unglued."If you girls have to go to the GD bathroom so GD bad you can just go on the fucking floor 'cause you're not going!"
I had not misbehaved in any way. I had followed the rules. My crime was being accustomed to eating, drinking and then relieving myself like a sane human being.
Shortly after Wanda's outburst I couldn't hold it any longer. Two other girls followed suit. I was required to continue sitting in it. I stood in a puddle of my own urine to be reviewed for homes rap. Kathleen burst out laughing and then told me I was disgusting.She said I made her sick. Wanda called on people to tell me how disgusting I was. I was started over, put on the pb&j diet and then made to sit in it for the rest of the afternoon. Around 4 or 5:00 L.A. came and got me. I cleaned up everbody's pee. Had to wring the mop out with my hands. They gave me some green polyester pants that were about 4 sizes too big. I sat at the back of the group during open meeting. The group was massive so there were about 700 or 800 people in for open meeting. My parents were at the very back. They saw nothing.
I went to the foster home that night. My oldcomer asked me why I did that. Like this physiological requirement was some big mystery to everybody. They acted as if it was an act of rebellion. And I bought it. I kept saying I didn't know. I berated myself in my MI. What was wrong with me that I had to urinate with such regularity?
You asked about the fosters. They were a mixed bag but remember they were getting "therapy" too. We would all die if they didn't d exactly what they were told.This particular family happened to be very nice. But when they were told that I was on pb & j and I could only have 2 pcs of toast and a dixie cup of oj at breakfast, that's what I got. All my other meals were at Straight. I believe my foster mother did intervene at one point though. After about a month on pb&j I lost a lot of weight. You know in that era we were wearing our pants as tight as possible. After almost on month on pb&j I could put both my hands all the way to my elbow inside my cords and touch my knees. While sitting down...I showed my foster mom. I was off pb&j the next day. Of course that didn't stop them from putting me on it twice more.
They dispensed medication regularly. I have no idea what it was. I was given medication after my third or fourth round of wetting myself, a staff trainee came and got one day and took me to the medication line. Told me I had a bladder infection. I wondered how they could tell since I barely spoke and I'd not seen a Dr since my charming initial exam. But I didn't know. I was 15. Barely. I thought maybe they had some training -could tell by the way I sat or stood. I got medication-a little blue pill for a week or two. I was then pronounced well-again without the aid of a Dr.
I can't speak to the menses. My period stopped the minute I walked through the double doors into group the first time. I didn't get a period again until I was on second or third phase. PS that was like 9 months later. I didn't talk to my fosters about that. I only saw them for a few hours on Sundays. Otherwise it was o'dark thirty in the morning or 10:00, 11:00, 12:00 at night.We were trying to get moral inventories done so that we could get to bed. Everyone was desperate for sleep. Including the foster parents. So not so much conversation going on.
I'm glad you didn't experience that stuff. I appreciate you asking really. I mean all of this is like Wonderland, crazy stuff. I'm sure lots of people new to this site are thinking it. But I don't have the luxury of believing that those mad things didn't happen to Sammie. Or anyone else. Because they happened to me too.
Any more questions?
whiterabbit
We did not inherit this land from our ancestors, we borrow it form our children.
http://www.civilization.ca/aborig/haida/hapindxe.html' target='_new'>Haida
6
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / How long were you in Straight?
« on: December 31, 2005, 12:45:00 PM »
18 months on my program then another 18 in PT/sibling/7 step society.....Easy to remember, Intake on my 15th birthday and terminated on my 18th. Why so long? I can't speak for anybody else but you have to remember that back in 80 & 81 there were 300 - 400 kids in the program. Miller Newton was the director. Getting called on to "relate" and thus make progress was difficult. Of course in hindsight, progress was much more dependent on the staff having motivation such as parent's running out of money or patience. But I digress...My intake was October of 80. I made 2nd phase on valentines day Home for a couple weeks then ran. Gone for just a few days brought back, started over. Ran with my oldcomer after 10 days. Started over and shredded. Went home for the second time in late July. Made 3rd (conveniently)just in the nick of time to go back to school. I'm sure my parents told them there was no way I was missing a SECOND year of school. Fourth phase shortly after that and then the group was frozen. No one could progress. Days called in etc Finally made fith in early 82. Days still called in but not frozen. No outings or permissions. But they 7 stepped us none the less after the minimum 60 days required for 5th. But I was in PT so in additon to doing the twice weekly meetings for the first 6 mos I was also going in for PT. A model 7 stepper for a while really. Did sibling raps but I eventually got sick of being scared to watch the wrong movie or tw show or listen to the wrong music, talk to the wrong person wear the wrong clothes. Staff looked at me suspiciously asked me about my clothes-they were too tight. I realized it would never end and a refresher or starting over was inevitable. So I limited my exposure, attended the bare minimum of meetings. Enough for them to see me around but not enough for them to really see or talk to me. I made my plans for escape. Showed friends where the building was, what time meetings let out and through which doors. Gave them the number for the ACLU, HRS. Contacted HRS and did an interview with someone there. Told them the whole story and that I was afraid I'd kidnapped. And then I held my breath until my 18th birthday. A few days before my 18th they called my parents. Refresher time. Just two weeks. Riiiiiiigghhht. I told them no one told them about all my preparation, offered to move out. They gave and I was terminated. But you know, if I hadn't done all that prep, my butt would have been back on the front row. No telling how long my program would have been.
Patient memoirs are a kind of protest literature like slave narratives or witness testimonies.
http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&ned=us&q=G.A.Hornstein&btnmeta%3Dsearch%3Dsearch=Search+the+Web' target='_new'>G.A.Hornstein
7
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Week 1
« on: October 18, 2005, 11:37:00 PM »
Day after tomorrow will be 25 years since I was duped into signing myself into Straight St Pete. My 15th birthday. I was in 10th grade english class at Dixie Hollins when I got a note to report to the office. No explanation but a scrawl at the bottom to BRING BOOKS!. My parents were so somber. I thought maybe my brother was sick or someone had died. We walked into the front office at the building on Frontage Rd off Gandy BLvd. I had noticed the very limited windows and the bars on the windows at the front. I remember thinking that maybe my grandmother hadn't died but lost her mind instead and we were going to visit her in a mental institution.We were standing in the office when I saw the license on the wall-Straight Inc. I started to cry, tried to leave but a staff member and a couple of girls came and guided me into an intake room. After several hours I copped to smoking a little pot. Then the big push was on -the coercion went from sign yourself in-it's only 14 days to if you don't sign yourself in we can have you committed t a mental hospital because you've admitted to doing drugs and doing drugs is crazy. A few more hours and 14 days in some little shelter home didn't seem like such a big deal. I figured I'd just run away if it was awful. I had no idea..... I don't remember the strip search. I remember two girls walking me into the big room. One was holding each of my hands. Nothing could have prepared me for the group. The double doors opened and hot air poofed out. The group was on the floor by the kitchen service window facing the double doors. Ten minutes from the beach and these kids looked like they hadn't seen the sun in years. Sweating, strangely dressed, sunken eyes. Arms flapping madly, making funny noises and funny faces. I remember closing my eyes and thinking "this can't be real this can't be happening" My period stopped that day. That minute. I didn't get another one for almost 9 months. I went to Catha Philips house for the first few days. No suitcase, no nothing. A paperbag with my name and a few clothing items showed up on day 2 or 3.I felt sick sooo sick. She tried to explain the rules. She told me I had to put my hair back. I chirped that I liked my hair back, wore it that way all the time, no problem. Anything to get me out of there. I never had much more than a paper bag or two the whole ten months I was on first phase. Everything was heat and funny smells and a bad taste in my mouth. I felt sick and confused and terrified all the time. Girls standing up in front of hundreds and talking about having sex with animals. Kids with drug lists a mile long. Rules rules rules.They need to be memorized right away. Being told I would never see my friends again. Lisa brought to the back of the group and being restrained-staff pryed her mouth open and held it open with a hairbrush so they could take her gum. Kids carving on their arms.Kids who stood up and listed off their days- one girl there more than a year and started over.Crying myself to sleep every night. Praying that I would wake up and it would be just a nightmare. Oatmeal at the Deshawn's house at the crack of dawn. Loss and homesickness and fear. Grief. I had a physical at some point in the first 2 weeks. That went so badly I checked out for days. Lost track of time altogether. I remember my first open meeting. I was supposed to be at an Eagles concert.I was supposed to be celebrating my birthday with my friends. I was sitting on front row. My first introduction. There were more than 600 in attendance-the group was at about 350 to 400. The quaking in my knees spread to my voice and soon to my whole body. Wanda Minton wicked witch of Frontage Rd.Dr Newton always red faced & angry, pacing.It was just too much. And it just went on and on and on. It didn't get better. I just got numb. Learned how to check out-get into your head. Listening to music, watching reruns of Gilligan's island, reliving a holiday. All without ever leaving my plastic blue chair.
It's late and I'm rambling. But those memories are so vivid!
I'm headed off to have happier dreams.
Night
It's late and I'm rambling. But those memories are so vivid!
I'm headed off to have happier dreams.
Night
When a well-packaged web of lies
has been sold gradually to the masses
over generations, the truth will seem
utterly preposterous and its speaker
a raving lunatic.
--Dresden James
8
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Repressed and Traumatic Memories
« on: July 20, 2005, 11:04:00 PM »
Welcome :wave:
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
--Bruce Lee
9
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / straight
« on: July 13, 2005, 09:50:00 PM »
"Its all bullshit and none of this happened to any of you. Sure, being in an institution sucks, but if any of this had happened while under guidelines of Children and Families, they would have heard about it. Get real bitch"
Sweetheart, they DID know.
I went in to Straight St Pete in Oct of 1980. In March of 81,I split and my oldcomer's dad called C&F services (then called HRS). They told him he had to take me back to Straight. An HRS person came to see me the next day. She told me that my parents would not let me come home. If I wanted to leave I would go to a shelter home. A shelter home she said, would be so much worse than Straight. I could barely talk for sobbing. I tried to tell her about not being allowed to use the bathroom, about peanut butter & jelly. I don't know that it was understandable. I just couldn't stop crying.She said she could not tell me what to do. But a shelter home WOULD be WORSE. And if it were her, she'd stay there and finish the program. So much for the calvary. Man was Dr Newton pissed! I was stood up after open meeting that night and ripped until I burst into a kind of hysterical laughter. Shawn Arnow read my diary to the group. They told me I'd probably cost those girls(the ones I split with)their lives. Selfish Bitch. Slut. Whore. And the whole while Dr Newton paced red faced at the back of the room.
Obviously you weren't there and you're not even clever enough to read up on the subject before shooting off your mouth. Still, I appreciate every opportunity to tell how it really was for those just passing through.
So thanks.
Sweetheart, they DID know.
I went in to Straight St Pete in Oct of 1980. In March of 81,I split and my oldcomer's dad called C&F services (then called HRS). They told him he had to take me back to Straight. An HRS person came to see me the next day. She told me that my parents would not let me come home. If I wanted to leave I would go to a shelter home. A shelter home she said, would be so much worse than Straight. I could barely talk for sobbing. I tried to tell her about not being allowed to use the bathroom, about peanut butter & jelly. I don't know that it was understandable. I just couldn't stop crying.She said she could not tell me what to do. But a shelter home WOULD be WORSE. And if it were her, she'd stay there and finish the program. So much for the calvary. Man was Dr Newton pissed! I was stood up after open meeting that night and ripped until I burst into a kind of hysterical laughter. Shawn Arnow read my diary to the group. They told me I'd probably cost those girls(the ones I split with)their lives. Selfish Bitch. Slut. Whore. And the whole while Dr Newton paced red faced at the back of the room.
Obviously you weren't there and you're not even clever enough to read up on the subject before shooting off your mouth. Still, I appreciate every opportunity to tell how it really was for those just passing through.
So thanks.
All we ask is to be let alone.
-- Jefferson Davis (1808-1889): First Message to the Confederate Congress, March,1861.
10
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / How in the hell did you guys take it?
« on: July 02, 2005, 11:08:00 AM »
This is an interesting topic even if it is a little touchy. Every survivor has probably heard that question at some point and heard the"Well I would have.." or "Why didn't you just.." by someone who wasn't there. It is just so incomprehensible unless you were there.
I'm glad you want to understand.
It is hard to imagine the powerlessness of being there. The brainwashing, being broken emotionally, physically, psychologically day after day. It seems like we should have been able to do SOMETHING. How could it happen to so many? How is it possible?
How did a few evil men convince an entire NATION that the solution to all their problems was the extermination of all Jewish people? And yet that's what happened in Nazi Germany.
How was the enslavement of an entire race deemed acceptable for hundreds of years? How did people fight for freedom while owning slaves? How about the crusades? Killing people for God. Apartheid? Stalin? Mussolini? Khmer Rouge? Communism?........ Republicans
Compared to those atrocities, breaking & brainwashing a few thousand powerless teenagers & their frightened parents is child's play.
When I went into the program I was 15 and weighed all of 98 lbs. I had never heard my parents use a single foul word. They rarely raised their voices. I'd been spanked once in my entire life.
Suddenly I was told that I would not see my parents again much less live with them until I worked the program. I would never see my friends again. Life as I knew it was over. I moved frequently. No security. No trust. No help.No relationships. I was surrounded my shrieking, angry people. Kids were punished for the tiniest infraction of the rules. Looking at the guys side, crying, not crying, not motivating. Kids carved on themselves with their fingernails, sporks whatever they could get. People tried to run, they were tackled and restrained. They jumped out of moving vehicles and were caught and punished. The police came & took a guy away in front of group. Handcuffed. Announced to us all that he was going to Raeffurt. One girl lost it and just freaked out. They took her to a mental hospital and made sure we all knew it.Punishment was random, swift and severe. The peanut butter diet, people exercised until they threw up or fainted, not allowed sleep, not allowed bathroom privileges until they were forced to go infront of the group, confronted for hours, isolated, humiliated.
Initially they said it would be two weeks. I looked around and thought Ok two weeks of playing along vs hopeless fighting? I can do it. I'll just play along. I can't describe the shock when they brought a girl to the back of the group who had run and was being started over after being there a YEAR.
Eventually I made it to 2nd phase and ran. Got convinced to go back. Ran again. This time we called the authorities. HRS. The calvary. They told me I could leave but my parents wouldn't let me come home. That I'd go to a shelter home. That it would be so much worse than Straight. What did I know? They were the authorities.
I stayed. I was punished. Hopeless. Powerless. And after 9 months, broken. I bought it.Believed it all. It was THE way to survive. The only one my brain could find.
Two months before my 18th birthday I started planning. I'd already graduated but knew I was being watched, Knew they would make me do it all again and they'd have to do it before I turned 18. I got in touch with my best friend. Hadn't spoken to her in 3 years-since the day of my intake. I took her to the building. Showed her the layout, the exit points, If I disappeared she would collect a group and they would physically liberate me. I phoned HRS. Again. But this time I talked to one person. Tried to make him understand what had happened and what would happen. I gave my friend the number for the ACLU and HRS. I put money and her number in the sole of my shoe in case I had to run.I made arrangements to live with a friend if necessary. I was in HIGHSCOOL. Four days before my 18th birthday it all went down. I let everybody know about all of my plans. That I would be there not one minute past my 18th. After 3 YEARS I was free.
But as the song goes, "You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave"
It was 20 years before I knew how much damage I took and took WITH me even after I left. I had no point of reference. My idea of normal wasn't but how could I know? I had nothing to compare it too.After 3 years it was the only kind of living I knew.
They drove home our powerlessness every single day and with every opportunity. Time will wear you down. Make you hopeless. And eventually your mind will choose a way to survive. And most were pretty powerless over that choice too.
It was far more powerless and hopeless than you can probably imagine.
I'm glad you want to understand.
It is hard to imagine the powerlessness of being there. The brainwashing, being broken emotionally, physically, psychologically day after day. It seems like we should have been able to do SOMETHING. How could it happen to so many? How is it possible?
How did a few evil men convince an entire NATION that the solution to all their problems was the extermination of all Jewish people? And yet that's what happened in Nazi Germany.
How was the enslavement of an entire race deemed acceptable for hundreds of years? How did people fight for freedom while owning slaves? How about the crusades? Killing people for God. Apartheid? Stalin? Mussolini? Khmer Rouge? Communism?........ Republicans
Compared to those atrocities, breaking & brainwashing a few thousand powerless teenagers & their frightened parents is child's play.
When I went into the program I was 15 and weighed all of 98 lbs. I had never heard my parents use a single foul word. They rarely raised their voices. I'd been spanked once in my entire life.
Suddenly I was told that I would not see my parents again much less live with them until I worked the program. I would never see my friends again. Life as I knew it was over. I moved frequently. No security. No trust. No help.No relationships. I was surrounded my shrieking, angry people. Kids were punished for the tiniest infraction of the rules. Looking at the guys side, crying, not crying, not motivating. Kids carved on themselves with their fingernails, sporks whatever they could get. People tried to run, they were tackled and restrained. They jumped out of moving vehicles and were caught and punished. The police came & took a guy away in front of group. Handcuffed. Announced to us all that he was going to Raeffurt. One girl lost it and just freaked out. They took her to a mental hospital and made sure we all knew it.Punishment was random, swift and severe. The peanut butter diet, people exercised until they threw up or fainted, not allowed sleep, not allowed bathroom privileges until they were forced to go infront of the group, confronted for hours, isolated, humiliated.
Initially they said it would be two weeks. I looked around and thought Ok two weeks of playing along vs hopeless fighting? I can do it. I'll just play along. I can't describe the shock when they brought a girl to the back of the group who had run and was being started over after being there a YEAR.
Eventually I made it to 2nd phase and ran. Got convinced to go back. Ran again. This time we called the authorities. HRS. The calvary. They told me I could leave but my parents wouldn't let me come home. That I'd go to a shelter home. That it would be so much worse than Straight. What did I know? They were the authorities.
I stayed. I was punished. Hopeless. Powerless. And after 9 months, broken. I bought it.Believed it all. It was THE way to survive. The only one my brain could find.
Two months before my 18th birthday I started planning. I'd already graduated but knew I was being watched, Knew they would make me do it all again and they'd have to do it before I turned 18. I got in touch with my best friend. Hadn't spoken to her in 3 years-since the day of my intake. I took her to the building. Showed her the layout, the exit points, If I disappeared she would collect a group and they would physically liberate me. I phoned HRS. Again. But this time I talked to one person. Tried to make him understand what had happened and what would happen. I gave my friend the number for the ACLU and HRS. I put money and her number in the sole of my shoe in case I had to run.I made arrangements to live with a friend if necessary. I was in HIGHSCOOL. Four days before my 18th birthday it all went down. I let everybody know about all of my plans. That I would be there not one minute past my 18th. After 3 YEARS I was free.
But as the song goes, "You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave"
It was 20 years before I knew how much damage I took and took WITH me even after I left. I had no point of reference. My idea of normal wasn't but how could I know? I had nothing to compare it too.After 3 years it was the only kind of living I knew.
They drove home our powerlessness every single day and with every opportunity. Time will wear you down. Make you hopeless. And eventually your mind will choose a way to survive. And most were pretty powerless over that choice too.
It was far more powerless and hopeless than you can probably imagine.
Wherever the standard of freedom and Independence has been or shall be unfurled, there will [America's] heart, her benedictions and her prayers be. But she goes not abroad, in search of monsters to destroy. She is the well-wisher to the freedom and independence of all. She is the champion and vindicator only of her own.
--John Quincy Adams, Speech to the U.S. House of Representatives [July 4, 1821]
11
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / 7 steps to madness
« on: June 23, 2005, 09:59:00 PM »
Got these steps posted on the wall at SIBS?
Should I take a stab at the three criteria?
How about an RSA?
Now THAT could be fun.
Should I take a stab at the three criteria?
How about an RSA?
Now THAT could be fun.
In order to live free and happily you must sacrifice boredom. It is not always an easy sacrifice.
-- Richard Bach
12
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / The great Melvin Sembler
« on: March 25, 2005, 05:13:00 PM »
::puke:: ::puke::
I have always thought that all men should be free; but if any should be slaves, it should be first those who desire it for themselves, and secondly those who desire it for others. Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally.
--Abraham Lincoln
13
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / What ever happened to...
« on: March 25, 2005, 05:10:00 PM »
Amazing when you first find this. Just when you thought you had it buried good. Don't be surprised if those old memories intrude for a while. You can always unload here. At least here everyone knows what happened and knows it's not your fault and you are not crazy.
Welcome Jack.
Marcia
Welcome Jack.
Marcia
A drug is neither moral nor immoral - it's a chemical compound. The compound itself is not a menace to society until a human being treats it as if consumption bestowed a temporary license to act like an asshole.
--Frank Zappa
14
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Someone Please respond to this!
« on: March 23, 2005, 07:51:00 PM »
Hey
I was in Straight, same time frame but St Pete group. It's been about a year since I stumbled onto this site. It really blew my mind. I'd locked all this up for so long.It was overwhelming at first. I'd read and laugh, read and be furious, laugh until I cried and then actually end up crying. Huge anxiety attacks and unwelcome meories popping in unannounced and unwelcomed -middle of the day, middle of the night. My dreams about tornadoes came back along with dreams about William Rollins walking down the street in my current neighborhood, visiting straight and not being able to leave etc. If it gets to be too much pull back or better yet see a counselor or therapist.(at a minimum Masters level therapist is best) It helps to talk to someone about it. Unload a bit. Right here if you like. I think you might find it therapuetic to tell your stories. And we know they're true.
Look forward to hearing from you.
Marcia
I was in Straight, same time frame but St Pete group. It's been about a year since I stumbled onto this site. It really blew my mind. I'd locked all this up for so long.It was overwhelming at first. I'd read and laugh, read and be furious, laugh until I cried and then actually end up crying. Huge anxiety attacks and unwelcome meories popping in unannounced and unwelcomed -middle of the day, middle of the night. My dreams about tornadoes came back along with dreams about William Rollins walking down the street in my current neighborhood, visiting straight and not being able to leave etc. If it gets to be too much pull back or better yet see a counselor or therapist.(at a minimum Masters level therapist is best) It helps to talk to someone about it. Unload a bit. Right here if you like. I think you might find it therapuetic to tell your stories. And we know they're true.
Look forward to hearing from you.
Marcia
I have found that the best way to give advice to your children is to find out what they want and then advise them to do it
--Harry S. Truman
15
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Greg Leclair Ocala Mechanic
« on: March 22, 2005, 10:19:00 PM »
:nworthy: :nworthy:
so long as the universe had a beginning, we could suppose it had a creator. But if the universe is completely self-contained, having no boundary or edge, it would neither be created nor destroyed it would simply be. What place, then, for a creator?
--stephen Hawking, English scientist