The Loss of A Friend, John Mustard

Today is Friday, the 13th.

I started the day off writing about an old friend of mine who seemed to disappear. His name was Jeremiah Deering. The last time I saw him was around 1997 or thereabouts when we both worked at Bridge Publications in Los Angeles, California.

Since 2019, I haven’t been able to find anything other than dopple-gangers on-line for Jeremiah and for his very lovely and friendly wife, Lisa. I would simply like to see they are well after all this time. It would be nice to be able to say hi.

While today has moved forward, I have expanded my writings into short essays about people who I understand have passed away but whom I feel against them a serious wrong was committed and not made good yet. 

One  of these people is a man named John Mustard with whom I worked at Celebrity Centre International, in Hollywood, California.

I met Mr. Mustard in 1998. He was a tall, sturdy man of about sixty-five, and stood about six-foot-two. He seemed to be a graduate of Oxford who grew up somewhere in the East, but I don’t even know if that bit of history is true. He talked like a scholar.

Mr. Mustard had been in the Sea Organization for decades by the time we started talking during a lunch break. In the 1980’s, he spent time working on a famous collection of L. Ron Hubbard’s books. It was his happiest time.

Tragedy took place around 2002.

First, a Sea Org member was accused publicly and raucously for stealing a large sum of money off of credit cards that he swiped, totaling something like $550,000. Where did the money go? Into the coffers of The Manor Hotel. He was using cards without the express permission of parishioners but he was giving it all to the church for his daily production.

That man was declared a Suppressive Person, never to be heard from again. That man had a wife who had stood beside him for more than twenty years. Together, they had three children who had been born in the Sea Organization. It was a very traumatic situation to observe. It was unclear how everything took place. I heard about it, loudly, by Dave Petit during daily staff get-togethers.

Mr. Mustard was the executive over this man’s deeds.

Now, the funny thing is this: when something this treacherous takes place inside an organization over a long period of time, many people would have to know something about it. Yet, it seemed like completely out-of-the-blue to Dave Petit, the senior officer there, and to other executives over Treasury as well as Finance. Yet, the books were reviewed every night. And yet no one else was called out about their participation.

As well, ultimately, the man was getting donations into The Manor Hotel.

So, the entire scene was simply cyclic.

No one was suing the Church as a result. There was, however, some Public Relations problem with the American Express company, and that was it.

It felt like a better solution would have been worked out if revenge was completely taken off the table. It felt like hateful revenge.

All I am getting at is that without a duly conducted investigation, all of the facts were never fully disclosed to everyone. And yet, 300 of us were all closely working together at Celebrity Centre International—such as myself.

As the months and years moved forward, there was always an excuse to talk badly about the man who used the cards, as well as a few other people who would randomly be shouted at in the most severe way possible.

Not long thereafter, John Mustard was in a separate apartment due to having fallen ill. I was told it was cancer and that he would pass away soon.

I used to chat with him almost every lunch while he and I smoked each one a single American Spirit cigarette in the alley, occasionally, during lunch. We promised each other we could quit whenever we wanted to.

I tried to visit Mr. Mustard when he was gone for more than a week. I was prevented from even sending him a letter. I returned to my desk only to be screamed at by Shane Woodruff, the stalwart executive over my life. Shane fell into a mad state against me on the day of John’s funeral. I think the entire situation was overlooked. Everyone was agitated. Clarity was never achieved.

In the Sea Organization, people live too closely together to ever be vague about serious matters. As well, we are too dedicated to helping the church to be so severely singled out and threatened with our livelihoods. It’s a disgusting habit, actually, brought into existence by Dave Petit.

The facts of everything were meant to be made known, LRH style, if you please.

Yet, here, there is a mystery, still.

Yet, with L. Ron Hubbard’s investigation technology, all the good names are cleared and the facts about any errors or transgressions are made known. This never happened for poor John Mustard, or for the other man as well as both their families.

Mr. Mustard had earned a lot of respect because he was smart and very kind. 

Both men were fathers and husbands.

It’s just very sad to see it happen. That’s all I’m trying to say.