Thousands turn out for Scientology By THOMAS C. TOBIN and LUCY MORGAN )St. Petersburg Times, published December 6, 1997 CLEARWATER -- Thousands of Scientologists chanted and marched by candlelight Friday night in downtown Clearwater in a surprise demonstration against the city Police Department and the St. Petersburg Times. The demonstrators encircled two blocks, capping what already had been a bizarre and turbulent day that echoed the city's Scientology-related civic battles of the late 1970s and 1980s. Friday's activities included dueling candlelight vigils and dueling news conferences, with church members on one side and a group of about 25 anti-Scientology protesters on the other. It also included a rarity: Scientology staff members wore street clothes all day instead of the military uniforms that have made their presence so obvious during the church's 22-year presence in downtown Clearwater. Church spokesman Brian Anderson said the measure was to protect staffers from being singled out for violence by the anti-Scientolgy protesters. Also Friday, church officials pulled two other parties into the controversy. They accused Clearwater police of helping the anti-Scientology protesters and thereby violating the rights of Scientologists. They said they were preparing to take legal action against the police to protect their civil rights. They also charged that the Times had printed lies concerning the death of Lisa McPherson, the 36-year-old Scientologist who died in 1995 after a 17-day stay at the church's Fort Harrison Hotel. In a tactic used frequently by the church against its critics, a handful of Scientologists took pictures and video of the demonstrators and of reporters. Anti-Scientology protesters, meanwhile, cradled candles against the cool air as a bagpiper played Amazing Grace. They huddled quietly in front of the Fort Harrison to protest what they said were abusive Scientology practices that can lead to deaths like McPherson's. Some of the protesters reported that Scientologists on Friday had papered windshields, trees and mailboxes in their neighborhoods with fliers that contained their pictures, called them religious bigots and compared them to the Ku Klux Klan. One protester, Greg Hagglund, said he got a message Friday from his home in Toronto that someone had put photographs of his two children in his mailbox. The lights in the Fort Harrison's lobby were off Friday evening and signs on the front door read: "We're not open right now, we're out doing good for the world." Two blocks away, meanwhile, thousands of church members marched around police headquarters chanting slogans such as "Sid Klein, what's your crime?" Klein is the Clearwater police chief and the question comes from a belief espoused by Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard that people who criticize the church usually have some serious transgression they are trying to hide. When the Scientologists reached the Times building at 710 Court St., they began chanting "St. Pete Times. Truth, not lies!" The church and its attorneys have criticized the newspaper's coverage of the McPherson case since her death was made public a year ago. Times executive editor Paul Tash said Friday: "Over the years, the Church of Scientology has objected in this way to what we consider vigorous journalism. We think we have an obligation to our readers and our community, and we will fulfill that obligation despite this sort of reaction." Police estimated the number of Scientologists protesting at 1,500. The church estimated 4,000. At a Friday afternoon news conference held by the anti-Scientology protesters, former members of the church spoke of what they said were abuses. Birgitta Dagnell, a Swedish woman, said she was ashamed she had spent 14 years as a Scientology staffer because it kept her away from her children and other family members. She spoke of extraordinarily long work days, of rough treatment for minor offenses and of being isolated under guard. Martin Ottmann said he worked in the church's sales office in Clearwater from August 1990 to July 1992. He said he and others were pushed by supervisors to pressure "public" Scientologists to make bank loans and borrow from friends so they could pay for more church services. He said the Clearwater church had a sales goal of $3-million a week and took in $1.5-million a week. In a news conference scheduled immediately afterward, Mike Rinder, a top Scientology official from Los Angeles, said the allegations by Dagnell, Ottmann and others were false. "If any of the things these people say are true, there would not be 8-million Scientologists in the world today," Rinder said. Rinder also called it "pretty absurd" that anti-Scientology protesters were complaining of harassment, such as the fliers in their neighborhoods, when they were harassing and attacking the church. He also had words for Ken Dandar, the Tampa lawyer who represents the estate of Lisa McPherson in a wrongful death case against Scientology. "I believe Ken Dandar is a gold-digging ambulance-chaser," Rinder said. And, echoing a letter sent to police Chief Klein earlier Friday, Rinder said the actions of Clearwater police were "more in keeping with a police state than a police department." Church spokesman Anderson said Scientology's grievances against the police go beyond this weekend's protests. For example, he said, there have been a dozen instances in which police did not act on complaints by Scientologists. "We're not treated the same as the members of other churches," Anderson said. Klein responded Friday, saying the church's allegations were "a fascinating mix of fact, fantasy, baseless allegations and absurd conclusions." He said officers had been in contact with the anti-Scientology protesters to help plan and ensure their demonstration would go peacefully. He reminded church officials he had met with them for the same purpose. "The city does and will continue to respect the rights of all," Klein said. "I have grown weary of the untold numbers of scurrilous claims, allegations and malicious charges leveled at the Police Department by the Church of Scientology." The day and evening in Clearwater unearthed a level of emotion not seen since 1975, when Scientology arrived in Clearwater under an assumed name and with written plans to stamp out opposition by infiltrating the city's major institutions. Klein said Friday night's protest reminded him of the day in 1981 when a much smaller group of church members picketed the Times and the now-defunct Clearwater Sun in Nazi uniforms to protest the newspapers' coverage. As Friday's protest unfolded without warning, "one of my first directives was to tell my officers, who were upset, that we were going to treat them like anyone else," Klein said.