We did reach an agreement. It specified that you were to have your teeth straightened and receive regular health, dental, and eye care. It provided for a visitation schedule, and specified deadlines for notification of visitation and for making travel arrangements. It provided that you undergo an educational evaluation soon after the agreement was signed, with another to follow a year later. Of course, there were numerous other details that need not be recounted here.

Linda has never said so, but I probably wasn't much fun to have around during the ensuing weeks. Though I've certainly faced greater losses in my time, I had tried with everything I had to win the custody battle. Losing was a tough pill to swallow.

But life goes on.

Feeling that the path I had walked was unique, and the knowledge I had acquired was so bizarre, I decided to publicize some of the documents that had been generated during my custody suit in the hope that some people would find them useful and informative. These included my affidavit in support of the motion to modify custody, two letters to the custody evaluators, two more recent updates, and an article about the night the cops plucked you from my home that had appeared in Boulder Weekly. I did some editing and made other modifications, then I created a site on the World Wide Web where they could be accessed. In May, 1997, “Dear Amanda...” made its debut.

The Guardian ad Litem had begun searching for someone in California who could perform the educational evaluation required by the new custody agreement. There were numerous communications among her, Suzanne, and me on this subject; we all three ultimately agreed that a full assessment was unnecessary, but it was necessary that your academic achievement be tested. Thus began the Guardian's long, frustrating attempt to accomplish this.

I had begun to make inquiries into the claims and credentials of Delphi Academy. Unless I missed my guess, Delphi, like so many Scientologists and Scientology entities I had encountered, was perfectly willing to misrepresent itself in public. If that was the case, I would publicize what I learned. That would probably cause Delphi to ask you to leave, consistent with my observation that Scientology organizations can be relied upon to take their own well-being more seriously than that of their members. Maybe you could then begin to attend a real school.

I reviewed the promotional materials I had been given by the Director of Admissions when I visited Delphi; I also found the school's web site. The school was making claims about its accreditation and about acceptance by various colleges of its graduates that, I thought, ought to be verifiable. I began writing letters and e-mails and making phone calls to gather information.

I had also decided to pay you another visit; actually, four visits, including a weekend, as my agreement with your mother allowed. I sent notice and made plans to drive to California in May.

By the time I left home, I had received numerous responses from my inquiries about Delphi. Since I was investigating, among other things, whether the colleges Delphi had claimed to have accepted its graduates for admission had indeed done so, and since most of those were in California, I could also use the trip to make personal contact with those who had not responded to my written inquiries.

I drove to Los Angeles on the 17th and 18th of May.

As I crested Cajon Summit, I could see the entire Los Angeles basin covered by opaque air. I drove to the bottom of the pass, then turned onto a state highway that took me back into the mountains. I thus skirted the city on my way to the Angeles Crest, a mountainous area where I could camp, which, in good weather, I consider preferable to staying in motels. I checked out Chilao Campground; it was beautiful and looked comfortable, so I arranged to spend the night.

The next day, I drove to La Canada, where Delphi Academy is located, to begin investigating where you might go to school if I were to be successful in separating you from Delphi, and to try to learn more about the performance of Delphi students. I visited La Canada High School; while they were not able to tell me whether they had any students who had formerly attended Delphi, I had the impression that it was a clean, large school where one could take advantage of extensive educational opportunities. I was not surprised to encounter such a school in the up-scale suburb of La Canada.

The problem was that you didn't live in La Canada; you lived in Tujunga, which, unlike La Canada, is served by the Los Angeles Unified School District. You wouldn't be attending La Canada High School; you'd be going to Verdugo Hills High School.

I learned that by visiting the school district's Office of Curriculum and Testing, where I was also told the school district had no records of results of standardized tests given by private schools. I was thus unable to follow that route toward obtaining an assessment of Delphi’s program.

Next stop: Verdugo Hills H.S. What a contrast with La Canada High! La Canada felt open to the world, clean, and relaxed. Verdugo Hills was surrounded by a six-foot chain link fence; the grounds abounded with litter, and the atmosphere was tense.

I went inside to try to make a connection and learned the person with whom I needed to speak wasn't there. On my way out, I went into a bathroom in the company of about six Chicano boys, who immediately began speculating, in Spanish, about where in the bathroom a camera might be hidden.

I had gotten part of what I'd come for: I could not imagine encouraging you to attend Verdugo Hills High.

At 6:00 that evening, I met you at your apartment. While you navigated, I drove to Glendale, where we ate at your favorite Chinese restaurant (not mine!) and spent some time in a large bookstore, ever one of our favorite ways of passing time. As I drove you home, you seemed happy and comfortable.

I drove back to the campground, where I read until bedtime.

The two days that passed before our next visit I used to pay calls to several colleges which had not replied to my written inquiries about Delphi Academy. I also did a bit of work on my car, and I began to look for a motel in which you and I could spend the weekend. I knew better that to ask you to share a campsite with me! Besides, you'd said you wanted a room with cable television.

Wednesday evening, I met you and Suzanne at your apartment and told you I wanted to go to Chinatown for supper. You liked the idea, but she said traffic might be bad. When I said I expected you to do the navigating for our little trip, your mom said you were a lousy navigator, but you and I agreed we'd try it anyway.

Traffic, it turned out, wasn't a problem; neither was your navigation. You explained that your mother’s mistrust of your navigational abilities stemmed from her failure to follow your directions, not from any lack of skill on your part. We arrived in Chinatown without a wrong turn.

We had no trouble finding a restaurant, but the food was hardly memorable.

Afterward, we walked around for about an hour. To my surprise, most of the stores were closed; there was no action to be had in Chinatown that evening! We talked, mostly making plans for the coming weekend. You asked me whether you could bring a friend to share our adventures, as you didn't feel comfortable being alone with me. Although I could perceive no evidence of your discomfort, I didn't argue, but said we could try it out for a while and see how it went.

I passed Thursday and Friday much as I had the two previous days, meeting with a lawyer, visiting the admissions offices of a couple of colleges in the area, and looking for a suitable motel. I was also able to meet my daughter Aimee for lunch on Thursday; she and I had a good visit.

When we met Friday evening, you introduced me to your friend. She was about your age and a fellow student at Delphi Academy.

We went to an Italian place in Sunland for supper. I found your friend to be somewhat uncommunicative; that was not to change in the time we spent together.

Over supper, we agreed to go to Universal Studios the next day. I suggested, since it was Memorial day weekend, we might be wise to get there early.

After supper, we went to the motel I had located in Glendale. Inexpensive and a bit threadbare, it did indeed have cable. You turned on the television and didn't come up for air until the wee hours of the next morning.

Knowing that you'd been denied television in Florida., and suspecting your mother had not yet been able to purchase a set for you in Los Angeles, I didn't interfere with your indulgence; in fact, I watched with you, and freely poked fun at the movies we watched. I doubt I've ever spent so much time watching trash, before or since!

We did go to Universal Studios the next day, but we hardly arrived early. It was crowded, as we'd expected, but that didn’t keep us from enjoying the experience. My favorite event was the "Back to the Future" ride, a chase scene shown on a very large movie screen, with moving seats coordinated with the screen action such that I felt I was part of the action.

Late that afternoon, we returned to the motel, from which I phoned Suzanne to ask her to pick up your friend. I was displeased that, in the day we'd been together, she had not once thanked me. I told her of my displeasure; she replied she'd been planning to thank me, and she'd had a good time.

I found that situation very odd, and still do. I never met or spoke with your friend's parents, nor was a single word said to me about the expenses I incurred on her behalf. I cannot imagine putting you into such a situation. And I was being portrayed by your mother as an untrustworthy monster for having detained you the prior Christmas!

I suppose your friend accompanied us as some sort of safeguard for you, though it is hard to imagine how she could have been effective if I had acted on some plan to abduct you.

After a pizza dinner, you and I returned to the motel for another dose of television.

When I awoke the next morning, you were sound asleep, so I hopped on my bike and rode into downtown Glendale for coffee. We had cold pizza for breakfast after I returned to the motel, then we drove into Burbank, bought movie tickets, and went to a bookstore.

We saw "Lost World" that afternoon and enjoyed it.

With a few hours remaining until you were due home, we drove up Topanga Canyon. I was again hungry, so we stopped when we came to an odd little combination convenience store-Greek delicatessen, where I was served a wonderful lunch. You weren't very hungry, as I recall, and contented yourself with nibbling a bit from my plate.

As we headed toward your apartment, I realized we'd be late. You offered to make an excuse to your mom, but I said that wasn't necessary. We arrived 16 minutes late, and I weathered Suzanne's glare while you gathered your belongings.

As I drove away, I reflected on your having expressed discomfort with being alone with me, in contrast to your friendly gesture of offering to make an excuse for our lateness. It seemed further evidence of your schizophrenia.

Since it was Memorial Day, I decided not to try to find a campsite that night, but to stay in the motel. I showered and checked out the next morning. I did a load of laundry, shopped, ate lunch, and drove back to the campground, about 45 minutes away. There, I strung a rope between two trees and hung my laundry up to dry.

The campground had obviously seen a lot of use that weekend. The dumpsters were overflowing, and some boards had been torn from one of the outhouses. Now, on Tuesday, it was nearly deserted, and I took a leisurely walk.

That really is a very pleasant place. At just over 5000 feet elevation, it remained cool during the days and actually got pretty cold at night. There are ponderosa-like pines there, which bear enormous cones, and an abundance of granite boulders. Also among the vegetation are manzanita trees, scrub oak, and numerous yuccas, many of which, at that time, had put up very tall stalks abundant with pale yellow flowers. There were many large, gray lizards to be seen, and many birds, including blue jays, ravens, vultures, doves, and owls, which could be heard conversing with each other after dark.

You and I were to get together one more time before I returned to Colorado, and it was to prove an odd but instructive visit.

I met you at your apartment Tuesday night. We bought a pizza and a pint of ice cream and took them to a nearby park. As we ate, we talked.

You told me you thought "psychs" couldn't help people, because they prescribed drugs, which you considered harmful, because they provided only temporary relief from psychological symptoms and often made things worse in the long run. You said there were ways of healing people without drugs; those ways were therefore better.

I said I thought many people who became "psychs" did so because they wanted to help people, and I thought they were often able to do that. I also said I thought psychological drugs, though undoubtedly over-prescribed, could be beneficial. You disagreed.

I asked what research you had done before drawing your conclusions. You said you'd met someone who had undergone psychological training but had later repudiated the profession, and you'd also read a library book that had convinced you that "psychs" thought of people as animals, which was contrary to your beliefs. You said there was nothing I could do to change your mind.

You went further, telling me I had destroyed your trust by continually challenging your beliefs. You said I always insisted on debating you, and I always thought I was right. You said you thought I hadn't had to undergo such challenges when I was young.

I tried gently to explain to you that my youth had hardly been free of challenges to my ideas; indeed, I had been raised in a family which expected me to explain and defend my beliefs, and discussions and debates were frequent activities at our dinner table.

The conversation went on in that vein for over an hour. It was obvious to me that you'd flipped over since our weekend together, from the relaxed, loving daughter you'd been then, to the suspicious, threatened person with whom I was also familiar. I couldn't help suspecting you'd been stirred up by someone before our visit.

We talked about schools. You told me how proud you were to have been admitted to Delphi, that you had visited La Canada High and found it to be a hot-bed of drugs.

You said you hated Germany, because you couldn't forgive it for the Holocaust, and because it was then persecuting Scientologists, thereby upholding the Nazi tradition. I explained Scientology wasn't considered a religion in Germany, and that country was trying to hold its Scientologists accountable for their behavior, not for their beliefs. I told you I had some information on that subject, which I would send you if you wished. You declined.

I expressed sadness that you had so many prejudices at such a young age. You replied you were once again failing to meet my expectations. I said no, I could hardly blame you, any more than I could blame a child of KKK members for hating blacks.

That's how we passed our last visit: You looked for ways in which you could feel injured by our differences; I looked for cracks in your armor into which I might inject new information. You found a lot of what you were looking for; I found none of what I sought. That visit couldn't end soon enough for me.

After I took you home, having no further reason to remain in Los Angeles, I headed for home, driving six hours to a campground east of Las Vegas with which I was already familiar. It was there, sitting at a picnic table and using the light from my Coleman lantern, that I wrote the notes from our most recent conversation.

I had passed some of my time behind the wheel reflecting about what had just occurred between us. I obviously had something to learn.

I knew you had complained to the custody evaluators, and to your mother, that I continually harassed you about your religion, about your beliefs. My perspective was that I carefully avoided any such harassment; after all, I'd been repeatedly warned by ex-Scientologists that there is no surer way to cause a Scientologist to shut down than to be critical of her religion or her beliefs. I felt I'd scrupulously avoided doing so.

I had failed to realize that every challenge I made to your beliefs you interpreted as a threat. I was simply asking you to consider other points of view about specific subjects, as I might in conversation with anyone; what you were hearing were threats to your entire system of beliefs. In other words, I was trying to engage in dialogs with you, but your ability to be open about your beliefs was constrained by your need to see Scientology’s opinions and actions as unquestionably right. Therefore, when I expressed an opinion contrary to what you believed, contrary to what Scientology espoused, you had to think not only that I was wrong, but also that I was attacking your “church.” Thus had the paranoia inherent in your Scientology beliefs set me up to be the bad guy.

It had taken me far too long to understand this phenomenon. When I had thought, during your and Ben's Christmas visit in 1994, that I'd exposed some lies and half-truths being told by your "church," what you had perceived was an attack. Whenever I suggested there might be a point of view other than that you expressed, about Germany, about "psychs," about schools or whatever else, you perceived I was "making you wrong," in Scientology terms; I was therefore guilty of a crime against you, against your "religion."

A trap had been set for me prior to our most recent conversation, and, failing to understand it, I had fallen into it.

You came to Colorado for your summer visit soon after I returned home. Although I then had no way of knowing, that was to be the last time you visited me.

We ran three rivers that year, all short trips. We did Brown's Canyon on the Arkansas, your favorite because of its many white water thrills. As I recall, I took Sarah on our still-new cataraft, while you volunteered to ride with a stranger, also rowing a cataraft, who wanted someone else on board to help him land his boat and do the other things that are easier and more safely done when there is more than one person on a boat. Of course, I made sure the stranger was a competent oarsman before allowing you to ride with him.

We also ran one of our favorites, the Escalante Canyon stretch of the Gunnison, a pretty river, all flat water, with great camping. You and Sarah paddled most of that run in an inflatable canoe. I remember how upset we were when a commercial group stopped for lunch where we were camping and left some garbage behind.

There was some uneasiness remaining between you and Sarah, because you couldn't forgive her for having exposed your marriage plans the previous winter. I had, on several occasions, to reassure her that she'd done the right thing.

We mostly had fun during that visit. We went to Elitch Gardens in Denver, an amusement park which we had enjoyed on several earlier occasions. We attended performances of each of the four productions of the Colorado Shakespeare Festival in Boulder.

We went to Redlands Mesa, on the Western Slope, to visit many of our numerous friends, including your aunt Nancy. Although you had earlier failed the test for a learner's permit, I arranged for you to spend some time behind the wheel on Redlands, where straight roads, little traffic, and the ability to see for long distances make for a good place in which to learn to drive. On one occasion, I went elsewhere while you stayed with Nancy and her partner, Mark. You and he decided to undertake another driving lesson; when I returned, you were both bubbling over with stories of near-disasters.

Mostly, it was a low-key visit, largely free of the espionage and plotting that had so marred earlier visits.

After you left, I resumed my research into Delphi Academy's claims and credentials, writing letters to prod institutions that had not responded to my earlier inquiries, and following the leads I had uncovered. As I accumulated information, a picture emerged: the school was claiming acceptance of its graduates by many more colleges and universities than had actually done so; it was making false, even illegal, statements about its accreditation; and it was graduating pathetically few students. Delphi Academy was peddling bunkum!

During one of our weekly telephone conversations, you told me you had gone in the company of some of your teachers and classmates at Delphi to visit the University of California at Santa Barbara. You had been impressed by the campus, and you and your fellows had been encouraged to apply for admission there. How ironic it was that I then had a letter in my possession from an assistant to the Director of Admissions of that very university, a letter explaining the university didn't accept applications from Delphi students because the school wasn't accredited!

The agreement between your mother and me that resolved my custody suit provided that I was to choose an orthodontist to straighten your teeth from a list of three that she would provide. I'd found it necessary to prod her, first to derail some scheme she'd come up with to do a short-cut version of the process, and second to get her to provide the list, but she'd finally done so. It was time for me to make another journey to Los Angeles.

I was looking forward with some satisfaction to seeing your orthodontia begun, because it had been more than three years since you'd told me you wanted your teeth straightened. Indeed, you and I had made a couple of visits to an orthodontist in Boulder and, while he and I had agreed it made no sense for him to do work on someone who didn't live nearby, he'd actually made a plaster cast of your teeth. I asked him whether I could have that cast so I could show it to the three candidates in California, and he agreed.

I sent your mother the required notice so you and I could spend some time together, and in October, 1997, Linda and I drove to California.

Of course, interviewing three orthodontists was not a lengthy chore, and I was able to work it easily into the schedule of our visits.

I had agreed to be bound to one of three orthodontists in the belief that your mother could not find three in your area who were Scientologists. Apparently, I was correct about that. The one in Sunland was a Scientologist, I surmise, because his office bristled with the efficiency and lack of humanity that I associate with Scientologist-run enterprises. The other two, one in Glendale, the other in La Canada, had offices that felt much more relaxed. Ultimately, I chose the woman in La Canada. Although she was not fully credentialed, she seemed honest and direct, her staff was obviously well-practiced in dealing with young folk, and her location was convenient for you.

We had what was beginning to feel like our usual whirlwind visit. Friday night, we saw "Seven Years in Tibet" in a theater, then got a dose of cable television in our motel room. I felt severely outmatched by my two favorite television addicts, you and Linda.

Since Linda was not feeling very energetic the next day, you and I set out without her to explore Los Angeles.

We went downtown and enjoyed the marvels of public transportation. We rode a silly, block-long tram called "Angels' Flight" that negotiates a steep hill. There was a subway station near its lower terminus. You told me you'd never ridden a subway, so we hopped onto a train bound for Union Station. I knew Union Station wasn't terribly far from where we'd parked, so I'd intended to walk back from the station. Once we got there, it became obvious that walking from there was tantamount to deciding on which freeway we wanted to be killed; there was no option but to ride the subway back to where we'd started.

Next, we went to the historic plaza in the center of the original town. We toured a couple of museums and walked among the adobe buildings and were fortunate to watch some Aztec dancers performing on the plaza.

We went back to the motel, picked up Linda, and went to Hollywood for dinner and a dose of tacky museums: Ripley's Believe It Or Not and the Wax Museum.

Sunday was more leisurely. After a late breakfast, we went to the Museum of Tolerance and spent the afternoon there. Dedicated to the Holocaust and to bringing people face-to-face with their prejudices, it was very interesting. I confess that I chose that place in the hope that you would see some connection between its message and the intolerance that is so central a part of Scientology.

As our visit ended, I felt, as I had on a number of prior occasions, that I had been an integral part of your learning about the place where you lived. I felt good about that.

Once home, I realized I had all the necessary information about Delphi Academy in hand, so I had work to do. First, I needed to write a report summarizing what I had learned. Second, I had to decide whether I was going to circulate that report, which would probably result in your being kicked out of the school.

I did some soul-searching about that. I knew kicking you out of school would be a brutal thing to do. I also knew the school, as an adherent of the Scientology philosophy that individuals are always to be sacrificed when the well-being of the organization is threatened, would be responsible for that brutality, but you would have no choice but to blame me.

I was naieve enough to think that you could be enrolled in a quality school once you’d parted company with Delphi. I was sure you wouldn't continue to resent me if you found yourself flourishing in such a school.

What finally tipped the scales was my realization that, despite all we'd been through during my attempt to win custody of you, we had always been able to mend our friendship. I thought we could weather the coming storm as well.

I wrote my report in early November, 1997, and put it on my Web Page soon afterward. Within days, I received word that you were no longer a Delphi student.

I felt a sense of justice when I made the information I had gathered about Delphi available to the public, because I could not forgive the school for misrepresenting itself. In my opinion, the things adults do to each other in the interests of acquiring wealth and power are sorry facts of modern life, but manipulating and lying to children are despicable acts that merit any but the most severe punishment.

Delphi was lying to its own students when they were told they were getting the best possible educations. Delphi was also lying to the general public, not only in its promotional materials and its web site, but also in its ad in the local yellow pages, which included the words "college preparatory."

Actually, the failure of Delphi's science teachers I'd found evidenced at the Science Fair made perfect sense to me. I had read some of Hubbard's absurd pronouncements in the realm of science (All About Radiation remains one of my favorites, though Dianetics certainly contains some whoppers), which clearly demonstrated the man's profound lack of scientific knowledge. If Delphi was in the business of training present and future Scientologists, which it surely was, it would only be sowing the seeds of future difficulties by giving its students a good grounding in science. Perhaps the school’s ad in the yellow pages should say, “Sea Org preparatory.”

But Delphi, as one of the flagships in the fleet of Scientology schools, had to appear to be teaching science. As I'd so often found when dealing with Scientologists and Scientology organizations, appearances and reality were worlds apart.

After you "left" Delphi, your Guardian ad Litem wrote a letter to your mother and me which said, in part, "...I don't understand how Amanda's continued presence at Delphi could have hurt Delphi if Steve was inaccurate in his statements. However, Suzanne told me that Delphi's policy was that the parents must support the school..."

The Guardian ad Litem was right; Delphi’s having kicked you out was tantamount to admitting to the accuracy of my report, and this newly-revealed policy was simply an attempt to obscure that fact. If that policy had earlier been in effect, why had the school’s “Student and Parent Handbook” or any of the other information I’d been given during my visit made no mention of it? If that policy had been in effect, why had you been allowed to enroll in Delphi in the first place despite your mother’s knowledge of my opposition? I would surely have spared you the pain of being forced to leave after having attended the school for more than half a year had I been able to do so.

Your mother’s reaction, manifested by her angrily accusing me of lying, was equally puzzling. Why did she respond by saying, in effect, “Shoot the messenger!” when she was given information that showed the school to which she had entrusted her daughter’s education, for which she was paying substantial sums, was lying?

I got right down to the business of trying to find you a suitable school. I wrote to the directors of admissions of about fifteen private schools in your area to inquire about possibilities for your enrolling and, if favorable, to ask whether I could arrange visits. Most replied within two weeks; I sent faxes to those who didn't.

Meanwhile, I remained in contact with you, but you were hostile toward me, as I had anticipated. You told me you were going to be schooled at home, but the next week, you said you'd enrolled in a program through the public schools. Subsequent information from the Guardian ad Litem only added confusion.

One thing was obvious: You and your mother were not going to provide me with any information about your plans for schooling, despite the Guardian ad Litem's clear written warning that I had a right to that information. It seemed to me that you had to preserve your ability to attend a Scientology school, a school just as likely to provide a substandard education, and to misrepresent itself, as Delphi. If that meant not revealing its identity to me, and thereby breaking the law, so be it. I couldn't investigate it if I didn't know its name.

It seemed plain to me that your mother's loyalty to Scientology far outweighed her commitment to your education.

You were so angry with me over my having gotten you kicked out of Delphi that you were utterly unwilling to consider visiting me that Christmas.

In January, 1998, Linda and I again drove to Los Angeles. This time, we went in separate vehicles, I driving the old Volvo I had offered Ben, because I wanted to minimize issues of transportation in the choice of your new school by making the car available to you for commuting.

I hadn't sent your mother notice of my intention to visit, since the ten days required would have delayed my trip, and I considered finding you a school to be urgent. However, I phoned to tell her I was coming, and suggested you and I might have dinner together while I was in the area. At first, she refused, but the Guardian ad Litem ultimately convinced her to allow a visit.

Linda and I were able to visit about a half-dozen private schools; we found a variety of approaches and levels of quality. One school seemed to cater mostly to marginally educated children of wealthy foreigners, while another used the Waldorf method.

That was a busy trip for us. I found time to go to the Admissions Office of Verdugo Hills High School, the public school that serves the area in which you live, to determine that you had never enrolled in a public school program of any sort.

Linda and I engaged the services of an educational consultant, a kind, older woman whom we visited twice. She gave us abundant advice about choosing a school and made some recommendations, and she explained some of the details of the testing that would be needed by any conscientious school in order to place you in its educational program.

When I phoned your mother to arrange our dinner together, she waffled. Finally, she agreed to allow me to take you to eat only if she could be in the restaurant at the same time. I guess she thought I was dangerous.

Although I hardly liked the idea of her tagging along, I wasn't prepared to make a legal issue of it, so I agreed with her to meet you both in a restaurant near your home.

We met as planned, and your mother was gracious enough to take a table separate from ours. Our visit was perhaps a bit less tense than I had feared, but you plainly held a grudge against me for my part in getting you expelled from Delphi.

Of course, you expressed a different viewpoint: You had decided to leave Delphi, because you felt that would be best for all concerned. I thought that was arguable, especially from your viewpoint, but it was certainly best for Delphi.

The last school Linda and I visited was the most impressive: Montclair College Preparatory, in Van Nuys. Dr. Simpson, its Director, took the time to show us around. He seemed wise in the ways of children, and was warmly greeted by most of the students we encountered. The school felt comfortable, and seemed to be a place where learning was simultaneously taken seriously and made fun. I felt a deep sense of respect between its students and its staff. What a pleasure it was for me to imagine you in that environment!

I remember listening as Linda called you from our motel room to describe Montclair. Linda entered into the conversation with enthusiasm, but your responses soon sobered her. It was a conversation of but a few minutes. Afterward, Linda reported hearing your mother say, "Your father lied on the Internet!" Linda also said you'd admitted that Delphi had been lying, but had said its lies hadn't affected you, and you'd reiterated that you'd left the school voluntarily.

Meanwhile, I was getting conflicting information about your school situation at every turn. You had told me you were embarking on a home schooling program. Then, your mother said you were in a program of a different sort, but wouldn't say what it was. The very next night, she said you were enrolled in a public school! I already knew that wasn't true.

This was beginning to look like a pattern: When your mother felt backed into a corner, all she could do was blow smoke in an attempt to obscure as much as possible.

You and your mother were utterly unreceptive to my suggestions about possible schools, and you declined to accept the car. You also refused to consider my offer to provide financial assistance for tuition.

As far as the car was concerned, that proved to be a stroke of good fortune for Linda and me, because her truck had developed an expensive malady in Los Angeles and, having had it diagnosed by the local Toyota dealer, and having learned the manufacturer was repairing that particular malady free of charge, she had decided to leave it in Glendale for repair.

The irony of the situation was immediately apparent to me: Linda and I had driven to Los Angeles in two vehicles; the ‘93 Toyota had to be left behind for repairs, while we relied on the ‘65 Volvo to take us home!

Take us home it did, without incident. We arrived before the middle of January.

You continued to phone me every week, but you remained hostile. In one call, you accused me of having "made [you] wrong" during a heated conversation we'd had the night you left my house with the cops. As I questioned you about this, I realized there was no clear line between disagreeing with you and making you wrong. What's more, you seemed to feel free to make me wrong a couple of times in that conversation. Clearly, you were applying a double standard in your judgment of our conversation, but pointing that out, of course, would be making you wrong.

During a couple of those calls, in late January, I also spoke with your mother. I said she was behaving unethically, and violating the terms of our divorce decree, by accusing me of lying in your hearing. I suggested she tell me exactly which of my statements she considered lies, so I could either back up my assertions or correct my errors. She replied, "I don't want you to be able to defend yourself." This from a woman who would describe herself as an "ethical being"!

Suzanne also told me, in one of those calls, she wanted me to remove the information I had posted on the World Wide Web. Her request was hardly a surprise to me. I refused.

Linda and I drove to Mexico soon after we returned home, thus retiring from the fray for a few months.

After I returned to Colorado, you resumed your weekly phone calls, but you told me nothing about yourself and listened to my accounts of events in my life with complete detachment.

In effect, you had disconnected from me yet again, this time because I had publicly exposed Delphi, and you had been forced to leave.

It was a similar situation to that which resulted in your having left Florida. In both cases, my actions had wrought major changes in your life. In both cases, the failures of the responsible adults to place you in circumstances which could stand up to scrutiny by outsiders had resulted in those changes.

Of course, you couldn't see it that way. You had to blame me, who had told the truth, not the liars who had made truth-telling necessary.

One thing that ran like a thread through our "conversations" in the middle of 1998 was your asking that I take down my Web page. In fact, that was the only subject about which you volunteered any information during those calls. You felt embarrassed, you said, because I continued to make publically available information that was personal to you.

I'd heard this before. Your mother, you'll recall, had earlier made a similar request. And the Guardian ad Litem had indicated your displeasure about the contents of my Web page.

However, I soon realized that you had only begun making these demands after I had added my report about Delphi to the page's contents. I suspected then, and still suspect, that my circulating information via the Internet was not so much offensive to you as it was to your Scientology superiors, and that, by asking me to remove the information from public view, you were following orders. I steadfastly refused to consider taking my Web page down.

The Guardian ad Litem continued her efforts to have you tested. In July, she wrote me that your mother had determined you could take the California Achievement Test at a Scientology school in Los Angeles, and asked that I assume responsibility for the cost. I did so immediately.

Some time in late November, you phoned me. I soon realized this was not to be what had by then become your typical, unresponsive conversation: you had an agenda. Early in the conversation, you called me a hypocrite. I replied that, as one whose actions were consistent with his beliefs, I considered your accusation unfair. I then suggested that some of your recent behavior seemed inconsistent with the precepts Scientology professes to hold dear, that you accused me from pretty shaky ground, from my point of view.

You moved on to accuse me of valuing my web site more than I valued our relationship. I replied that was patently false, but I felt your trying to put me in a position from which I had to make such a choice was absurd. Of course, you refused to understand my perspective.

You kept us stuck there. Every time I tried to move our conversation to a lighter subject, you returned to your agenda. In all, you tried to get me to say I valued my web site more than I valued our relationship on at least four occasions. Each time, I denied your assertion.

I was glad when the call ended; it was never pleasant when you insisted on brow-beating me into making some contrived choice, or into saying something you could use to further damage our relationship.

I could certainly see the influence Scientology in your behavior. I had become quite accustomed to being the target of manipulation by you and by other Scientologists who were entirely willing to use threats of damage to my relationships with people I love to compel me to change behavior they didn't like.

In early December, the Guardian ad Litem, apparently exasperated with your mother for her not yet having arranged to have you take the achievement tests as she'd agreed to do in July, and as required by the agreement she had signed more than a year and a half earlier, wrote her to complain of the delays, saying, in part, "Please have this done immediately!"

Later that month, days before I was to depart for my winter's sojourn to Mexico, I received a letter from you. Because I want to offer some comments about it, I include it here in its entirety:

December 9, 1998

Dear Steve,

You know, as well as I do that we are not and have not gotten along for some time. I have made attempts to heal and mend this relationship several times. I'll be specific. Last May, we got in to a phone feud over my religion and it never resolved. I asked you then if you would be kind enough to remove your biased web site, about my religion and personal life, and I got a cold turn down. But, I still called you almost every week since then. Then, a few weeks ago, I again attempted to put our differences aside and try to heal the relationship. I asked if you would take the web site down, you mistook my asking not to put our family problems on the Internet to mean that I wanted you to give up your beliefs. You told me that the Internet site was more important than our relationship. You said I was a hypocrite. You use quotes from my religious books to make me feel wrong. I have yet to hear an attempt to mend this relationship from you.

But, this is not the first time you have attacked me. After I saw you in the summer of 1997 (after you refused to let me come home the January of 1997) you attacked a school that I enjoyed, my first attempt at having a life after the court hearing. When I refused to see you in December of 1997 you offered me a cozy deal, you said, "If you come and see me for a week in the winter I won't take you back to court". I then saw you when you came to visit me even though I was uncomfortable with you. At that point you offered me a car if I went to a school you picked out for me, with out even letting me know. This is all just for the past year and a half. You wonder why I don't open up to you about my life, well, it is due to the fact that you have never attempted to gain trust from me again, and I fear that you have full intent to put all I tell you onto the Internet.

Any way, we have not had a pleasant conversation for a long time. After our last phone call I realized that hope was lost for this 'relationship' and so I am asking you not to attempt to have one with me. I do not want to talk to you and will except no communication for you or your girlfriend. I will not see you or call you, no matter what you and my mother agreed. I am laying down my own rules. When you feel that you can have a decent relationship with me let my Guardian Ad Litem know.

Thank You,

Amanda Keller

Your letter contains so many half-truths and misrepresentations that it will take some space to formulate a reply. Here goes.

No, we had not gotten along for some time; and yes, you did continue to phone me almost weekly. However, the truth is we weren't getting along because you were keeping as much distance between us as possible, as I mentioned earlier. Phone calls made for the apparent purpose of reaffirming your unwillingness to communicate cannot be construed as attempts to, as you put it, "mend this relationship."

Neither can your demands that I take down my Web site be construed as attempts to heal. Let's talk truth here: That's manipulation, pure and simple. Manipulation is not a technique by which one attempts to mend anything; that you believe it to be such is testimony to your having been given false information.

If you found my web site so invasive of your privacy, why did you never once make any suggestions as to how I might change it to make it less objectionable to you?

I suspect the answer is that sort of all-or-nothing heavy-handedness is part of what you've been taught as a Scientologist. My dear daughter, such techniques don’t work out here in the real world.

I did not call you a hypocrite--I do not call my children names. I am accustomed to being called names, by your mother and other Scientologists. I can tell when, during a disagreement between us, she loses her ability to uphold her viewpoint, because she then resorts to calling me names. "Religious bigot" is one of her favorites, but she has been known to call me things I would never print.

It was you who called me a hypocrite. I was not terribly surprised when you did so. Saddened, yes, but not surprised.

You accuse me of "attacking" you, then you give examples. Did I attack you by attempting to have you visit? By trying to place you in a quality school? By offering you a car? By offering financial assistance for your schooling?

You accuse me of attacking Delphi. You may word it thus if you wish, but the truth is I discovered some lies Delphi was telling and made my discoveries public. In your estimation, who deserves to be punished, the institution that lies to its own students, or the person who exposes those lies?

You claim I have "never attempted to gain trust from [you] again." That's not true. Every time you phoned me, I attempted to re-gain your trust. When you were kicked out of Delphi, I made every effort to find a quality school in which you could enroll. I wrote letters; I visited schools to determine their suitability; I offered you a car and financial assistance. That you misinterpret my efforts to restore your trust in me is more testimony of your need to see me as a villain, probably with a generous dose if help from your mother, than it is testimony of any insincerity on my part.

Yes, I am continuing to make information public via the Internet, as you can see. I do so not with the intention of hurting you. I do so because you and your mother have consistently denied me a forum in which I may be heard, and I will not be denied hearing. I do so in the interest of helping others to understand how strangely events can unfold when one is dealing adversarially with Scientologists. I do so because Scientologists don't think like outsiders, and I wish to help people to understand how they do think, and how events can be influenced by those patterns of thought. I make this information public because I wish it had been available to me when I began my custody suit. You might call it "the greatest good for the greatest number..."* If you are hurt by my actions, I am truly sorry.

[*“The greatest good for the greatest number of dynamics,” that is. This is a handy, seemingly innocuous little precept Scientologists use for making decisions. There are eight “dynamics,” or realms of existence: 1.) Self; 2.) Family and sex; 3.) Groups (school, society, nations); 4.) Mankind; 5.) Animal kingdom; 6.) Physical universe; 7.) Spirit; 8.) God. Scientologists are taught that assessing the effects of their actions on each of these dynamics enables one to make decisions in a manner that best promotes “survival.” The trouble is that all Scientologists know Scientology is the best hope for the world, so where decisions about the furtherance of Scientology are to be made, the deck is stacked.]

Your letter merely acknowledges what had happened long since. You disconnected from me a long time before you wrote the letter; you did that soon after you parted ways with Delphi. Your refusal to visit me and your coldness on the telephone show that clearly.

In closing, I would ask a couple of questions: Did the Guardian ad Litem's insistence on having your achievement testing done immediately have any influence over your decision to disconnect from me? Did you think by disconnecting you would free yourself from the need for testing? The fact that your letter was written so soon after you must have received hers would suggest "yes" answers to both questions.

I had known for a long time that our relationship could not survive my custody suit and the criticism of Scientology that entailed, but I had truly expected you to wait until your eighteenth birthday to disconnect from me. In that, I was obviously mistaken.

My circulating my report about Delphi was, I truly believe, the final blow for us. But you had to blow a little smoke around that fact, just as your mother had done when she alleged I was lying about the school. You couldn't challenge me to defend myself because you knew I could do so, and that would have put you in an untenable position.

To this day, I believe your mother's failure to express outrage at Delphi over its misrepresentations, at a time when she was apparently paying substantial sums for your tuition, betrays her mindless loyalty to an institution that was betraying her, betraying you. Thus do I see many relationships among Scientologists and the organizations that are part of their "church."

There were a few more events of interest that occurred between your disconnection from me and the present.

Suzanne continued to stall your achievement testing. The Guardian ad Litem (G.A.L.) wrote in February, 1999, that she had spoken with you; initially, you had refused to be tested, but she had finally convinced you to take the tests. (That letter added credence to my belief that you had written the disconnection letter in the belief that you could thus avoid the testing.)

In May, the G.A.L. wrote that you had finally taken the tests, more than two years after Suzanne had signed an agreement that testing was to be done "as soon as possible.” However, she had refused to release the scores!

Meanwhile, your mother had told the G.A.L. that you were enrolled in another school, and you would be graduating soon. Since you had been in the equivalent of the eighth grade at Delphi, as I recall, the G.A.L. was surprised by this news, to say the least. She asked Suzanne to sign a release to allow her to contact the school directly, so she could verify that you were about to graduate and determine what courses you'd taken.

Suzanne never signed the release. In exasperation, the G.A.L. petitioned the court to compel Suzanne to provide her with copies of your test scores and your school records. Thus had the G.A.L., whom your mother had caused to be appointed in the first place, become her adversary.

When your mother replied to the G.A.L.’s court pleadings, it became clear she was unwilling to provide information because she was afraid I would undertake an investigation of the new school as I had with Delphi.

Her behavior throughout these events has revealed her attitude: If I continue to hold her accountable for the decisions she makes regarding your education, she will simply withhold information, the law be damned. If I continue to hold schools accountable for telling the truth, she will have to protect them from me.

But I have to ask: What’s left to prove?

Scientologists lie. Scientology schools lie. I have proved those statements to be facts.

A Scientologist will support a Scientology school, even when it is shown to be lying, even when the efficacy of its program is called into question. Loyalty to the organization is more important than the quality of a child’s education. Suzanne has proved those statements to be facts.

You had your eighteenth birthday last September; under the law, you’re emancipated. What’s left to prove?

So I agreed not to contact the school, nor to circulate any information she provided, and she agreed to produce the required information. I felt I had no assurance that she would actually do so, because I have seldom seen her behavior constrained, either by compliance with the law or by her having given her word or signed a document, and family courts are singularly toothless where such obstructionism is encountered.

However, I was immediately given a copy of your achievement test scores. They were excellent.

But I must confess I find this all to be meaningless nonsense. The test was given by another Scientology school; I therefore see no reason why the testing should be considered any more accurate than were Delphi's representations of its credentials and its achievements.

I consider equally meaningless your apparent leap from eighth grade to graduation from high school in a bit more than two years. As they say, it’s all done with smoke and mirrors.

It's not that I lack faith in your intelligence; I know how bright you are. But I've heard so many lies, for so many years, about your education, that I don't believe anything a Scientology school tells me. Well do I remember the time when you, then thirteen, didn't know who Lewis and Clark were, while you continued your struggle to master the times tables.

That, daughter, is the tragedy in all this, the very thing I saw coming and tried so hard to prevent: You are the loser here. It's you who have been denied an education and the wide world of possibilities education offers in the interest, I firmly believe, of preserving you as cannon fodder for a group that thrives on the mental slavery of its members. That such a thing can occur at all saddens me; that it has happened to you breaks my heart.

As I see it, you're caught in an organization that intends to deprive you of a happy, productive life in the interest of its own greed and thirst for power, and you haven't been equipped with the knowledge with which you can perceive what's happening, let alone extricate yourself.

Maybe I don't give you enough credit. After all, you're very bright, very perceptive. Maybe you'll figure it out sooner rather than later. I hope so. I really, really hope so.

If and when you do, I trust you'll know where to turn. I will be here for you if I still draw breath.

That, my dear daughter, is a promise.

I here honor the people we once were, the love we shared, the adventures we had. Together, we explored the West's great rivers. We discovered wonders in whatever places we found ourselves, from Colorado to Florida, from Utah to California, from Mexico to Guatemala. We basked in the love of some of the world's truly fine people. We shared some times that I will never forget.

I am indebted to you, because you taught me some things I really needed to know about loving my children. Those are also things I will never forget. Thank you.

I knew, when I undertook to try to wrest custody of you from your mother, I was rolling the dice. I knew I might lose, and by doing so, lose something very important to me: your love. Now that has happened. I cannot say my advance knowledge has made losing you any easier. I miss you terribly.

It is a terrible thing to have to choose between one's principles and the love of one's child. It is equally terrible to have to wonder, over and over again, whether one has done the right thing.

But, truth be told, I don't really wonder. You see, I did what I had to do; I did what my conscience demanded I do. I am thankful I don't awaken in the morning thinking I might somehow have made a greater commitment to your needs. I truly did all I could.

It wasn't enough. I'm sorry, mostly for your sake, but also for mine. I'm truly sorry.

Love,

Dad