Bare-Faced Messiah (PDF) - Apologetics Index

painting. Its main street signs reflected quiet respectability, small-town values and quintessential
Americana: Sun-up Milk Drive-In; Dollar Saver; Smile Jesus Loves You; Hemet Retirement Home;
Happy Birthday Doug & Laura; Virgin Mortuary; Hemet Hotel Pets Welcome; Gun Shop; Church of
the Open Bible . . . The Commodore's new base was behind Lee's Acupuncture Clinic, adjacent to
a Pick 'n' Save supermarket and a drive-in McDonald's.
In this amiable suburban setting, an extraordinary security cordon was tightened around the man
whose name was not now allowed to be mentioned. Within Scientology, Hubbard's new location
was known only as 'X'. The summer headquarters at Gilman Hot Springs was only fourteen miles
distant, to the north, but no one was allowed to travel directly between the two places. Mike
Douglas, one of the few people with authority to make regular journeys between Hemet and
Gilman, clocked up 120 miles each time.
Inside the apartments behind the acupuncture clinic, a skilful alarm system was devised, with
buzzers and red lights everywhere. All the staff were drilled regularly so they knew what to do if
strangers arrived at the door - they had to deny all knowledge of L. Ron Hubbard, of course, but they
also had to try and act normally while the Commodore was being hustled out through a back
escape route to a getaway car that would always be ready in a garage opening on to a different
street.
Once all the security precautions were in place, Hubbard relaxed and settled down to enjoy life in
Hemet. Although he occasionally threw his food across the room when he believed the cook was
trying to poison him, by and large he was better tempered than he had been when he was trying to
make movies. He usually got up about midday, audited himself for an hour and then dealt with
whatever correspondence the messengers had decided he should see. In the afternoons he
devoted several hours to taping lectures and mixing suitable background music, and in the
evenings he watched television and reminisced to a small, but always attentive, audience.
'I believed the stories he told were true for him,' said Kima Douglas. 'He was a good story-teller and
it was nice to listen to him. He told us once how he was Tamburlaine's wife and how he had wept
when Tamburlaine was routed in his last great battle. Another time he vas on a disabled spaceship
that landed here before life began and realized the potential and brought seeds back from another
planet to fertilize planet earth. I didn't see why that couldn't be true.'
David Mayo recalled sitting on the floor with a couple of messengers while the Commodore played
hill-billy songs on his guitar and talked bout the time he had earned his living as a troubadour in
the Blue Mountains. 'I think he made up the songs as he went along,' said Mayo. 'Afterwards,
everyone clapped.'
After several weeks at Hemet, Hubbard began venturing out into the town in a variety of
extraordinary disguises. He had a baseball cap with false hair sewn into it, plastic padding to
change the shape of his face and stage make-up to alter the colour of his eyebrows and sideburns.
'He always thought he looked wonderful,' said Kima, 'but he usually looked like a funny old man. I
always thought it would have been safer to dress him up like a nonentity, but he would never have
it. He always wanted to wear his hat at an angle, kind of jaunty, display a bit of panache. He was fun
like that. He'd walk down the main street, always followed by a couple of messengers, little girls in
white shorts or tight, tight jeans and he thought he looked like one of he locals, but he never did.'
Hubbard knew so little about contemporary America that he considered shopping malls to be a
wondrous innovation and he would spend hours wandering around them, buying plastic trinkets.
Although he never spent much when he was out shopping, he was investing huge sums in stocks,