Eerie Secrets of ‘Scientology City’ Where Julian McMahon Died: A Resort with a Haunting Vigil

Earlier this week, I wrote a story querying why the actor Julian McMahon had died in the city of Clearwater, Florida – far from his well-documented life in Los Angeles.

Clearwater is, after all, famous for one thing: being the global headquarters of the Church of Scientology.

Was McMahon, who died from cancer, a Scientologist? He never said so.

And why was the popular star of TV shows like Nip/Tuck and Charmed – who also happened to be the son of a former Australian prime minister – given what can only be described as a pauper’s funeral at a bleak crematorium on an industrial estate?

These, I believe, were all fair questions. But Scientology isn’t a fan of journalists asking questions about how they operate and, sure enough, two angry emails – one from a church spokesman, the other from a Clearwater resident – hit my inbox after my story was published.

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Australian actor Julian McMahon (pictured with wife Kelly Paniagua in 2017) died on July 2 in Clearwater, Florida, after a secret battle with cancer

Julian’s death certificate revealed surprising details – including his location of death

Clearwater Beach is a stunning holiday destination – nearby Clearwater city is less inviting

The Clearwater local invited me to ‘conduct proper research’ on the city rather than simply relying ‘on internet searches’.

Well, allow me to correct you on that point.

I have spent many long weeks reporting on Scientology in Clearwater, where the likes of Tom Cruise and John Travolta call home for parts of the year. 

John’s wife Kelly Preston, as well as his longtime friend and co-star, the late Kirstie Alley, also lived there before their deaths from cancer at age 57 and 71, respectively.

At the time, around 2017-2018, I was a reporter based in Los Angeles, and travelled to the secretive Florida enclave on several occasions.

Not to be confused with nearby Clearwater Beach – a gorgeous, white-sand vacation town where holidaymakers enjoy sunshine, booze and deep-fried food in abundance – Clearwater city is an altogether different experience.

Julian died in the city’s Morton Plant Hospital, and was cremated without a funeral at the nearby Palm State Crematory, a nondescript warehouse on the outskirts of town.

The downtown area is almost exclusively owned by Scientology – a religion that has skilfully built a fortune on its millions of dollars’ worth of real-estate holdings.

In Clearwater, I experienced a feeling of being constantly watched by unknown people

It’s an eerily quiet place.

It beggars belief that Julian – a man born and raised in Sydney’s wealthy eastern suburbs with a silver spoon in his mouth thanks to his PM father William McMahon and socialite mother Lady Sonia – would have a reason to be there.

Unless, of course, he had links to the church that he did not publicly disclose. 

Having been to Clearwater, I felt a constant sense of being watched – but was never quite sure by whom.

Most of the nameless buildings’ shutters are down, though occasionally you’ll see a blind snap up as someone inside peers furtively around.

Meanwhile, waistcoat-clad members of Sea Org – the quasi-military elite corps within Scientology – hurry purposefully from building to building. What’s their purpose? Only the church knows.

I was also warned to never conduct conversations outside of my car. 

On one of my clandestine trips to Scientology City, some non-Scientologist residents told me that if they said anything bad about the church, they’d notice church-going neighbours’ security cameras pointed in the direction of their homes.

It’s also widely known that the church uses intimidation tactics on those who oppose or report on the organisation in anything less than a fawning way.

I was a target of this behaviour.

Back in 2017, I was in town to report on Kirstie Alley, who would later die in 2020 after being secretly diagnosed with colon cancer. (The similarity here with McMahon, whose own cancer battle was also kept a closely guarded secret, is not lost on me).

At the time, Kirstie’s life was endlessly fascinating.

I’d wanted to find out if she was still a devout Scientologist – she was – and whether she was following her own diet advice that she hawked through her Organic Liaison weight-loss program, which was facing accusations of being a sham. (Alley ended up paying $130,000 to settle with a disgruntled customer who alleged the program didn’t work, according to The National Enquirer. Organic Liaison is now defunct.)

My investigation complete, I decided to break cover and leave my business card with a local pizza shop owner.

His storefront didn’t match the omnipresent pastel-and-white façade of Scientology buildings, so I figured I might get lucky and find one of the few ‘non-Scis’ in Clearwater, grab an interview, or – better yet – find out when Tom Cruise was in town.

Kirstie Alley, who died in 2020, was facing accusations that her Organic Liaison weight-loss program was a sham when I went to Clearwater to track her down

Unfortunately, he visibly blanched and said he wasn’t a member of the church but that he did not have a problem with them. I couldn’t blame him.

I bid him adieu and decided my story was complete. Then, I hit the road for Tampa – a cold beer by the beach after a job well done was beckoning me.

It was on that drive that things got… interesting.

Within minutes of leaving my business card at the pizza shop, I noticed a white Lexus SUV with heavily tinted windows driving closely behind my vehicle. 

After a 30-minute journey, it followed me into the parking lot at Whiskey Joe’s Bar and Restaurant, a waterside joint on Old Tampa Bay, where I ordered a beer, sat on an Adirondack chair with my feet in the water, and promptly forgot all about the Lexus.

But not for long.

Within minutes, I was the subject of a tweet from none other than Kirstie Alley herself – thinly disguised as a friendly nod to my Australian nationality, my presence in Clearwater, and the fact I was currently sitting by the beach.

It read: ‘@karleighsmith87 Welcome to Clearwater mate!!! Best beaches in the country! No Roos [sic] but plenty of manatees!’

A tweet by the late Kirstie Alley (pictured here at a Broadway opening night in January 2015) made Karleigh Smith feel like she was being watched by the Church of Scientology

Alley sent out this tweet in 2017, just after Smith had wrapped an investigation in Clearwater

The Australian reporter was relaxing at a Tampa bar when she received the startling tweet

Smith was a Los Angeles-based freelance reporter, and now works for Daily Mail Australia

I believed it was her way of telling me, ‘We know who you are, and we know where you are.’ Combined with the Lexus tailing me, it felt quite unsettling.

I suspect the church wanted to find out what I was doing in their community. Unfortunately for them, I had already been there for a week and long since secured my story.

After finishing my beer, I drove to my hotel – again, shadowed by the Lexus – and turned in for the evening.

The next morning, as I returned to my parked car, the Lexus was still there.

There was a large puddle of condensation underneath, indicating it had been there all night with the air-conditioning shielding its occupant – or occupants – from the steamy Florida weather.

They were in for disappointment. With no more Scientology snooping on the agenda, I made the short drive from my hotel to Tampa Bay Airport – with the Lexus on my tail all the way to the car rental lot – and gratefully flew home to Los Angeles.

My story about Kirstie appeared in The National Enquirer and its sister magazine The Globe some weeks later. 

A year later, in 2018, I returned to Clearwater – this time to look into the life of Tom Cruise, whose penthouse towers over the city. You can read that story here.

The bronze Scientology cross atop its Flag HQ can be seen for miles around

It was while researching Tom’s real-estate holdings that I gained an even better insight into just how the once-bustling city of Clearwater was being overrun by the church after it steamrolled into town in 1975.

At the centre of downtown looms the massive $156million Flag Building – the church’s global spiritual headquarters. It’s the largest building in Clearwater and occupies an entire city block.

According to a 2007 Scientology article, Kirstie Alley contributed $250,000 to the building project for the honour of being decreed a founding member. 

Inside, followers can participate in a ‘purification rundown detoxification program’.

A bronze Scientology cross sits atop the 15-storey building, visible for miles around, reminding residents that in this town, the church is king.

As if anyone could forget.

Across the street sits the Fort Harrison Hotel, which can be accessed from Flag via a footbridge, and hosts the church’s top dignitaries and visiting celebrity followers.

I saw Connor Cruise hanging out with the valet as he waited for his bright-yellow Ford Mustang to be returned to him.

Tom Cruise’s son Connor, a recreational fisherman, is regularly seen around Clearwater

Mystery surrounds why Julian – seen here in his last public appearance – was in the town at all 

A 2019 investigation by the Tampa Bay Times revealed the church, its members, and companies they control now own 185 properties that cover a staggering 101 acres in the centre of downtown – with half of them bought since January 2017.

The journalist who wrote the piece, Tracey McManus, reported that tensions between the church and the local council had incited the land grab.

At the time, a church attorney criticised the Tampa Bay Times for its ‘preconceived agenda to present every Scientology story in a false and unfavourable light’, adding: ‘There is nothing unnatural about Scientologists wanting to live in the same city that houses the international spiritual headquarters of their church.

‘The Church was unaware of the significant number of properties owned by Scientologists in the Clearwater area and are delighted you provided the information.’ 

So, with all this in mind, you can see why the fact that an iconic Australian star such as McMahon – with no apparent ties to Scientology or the state of Florida – happened to die in Clearwater after a secret cancer diagnosis piqued my curiosity.

Even all these years later, now back living in Sydney and with Clearwater 10,000 miles away, it’s the kind of place that stays with you forever.

When contacted for comment on this story, a Scientology spokesman criticised the coverage of McMahon’s death in Clearwater as ‘sensationalist’ and said that ‘suggestions of a connection between Mr McMahon and the Church of Scientology, based solely on the location of his passing’ were ‘unfounded’ and ‘misleading’.

The representative went on to say: ‘Drawing such a conclusion is no more accurate than assuming someone’s religious beliefs based on the fact that they died in Rome or Jerusalem – cities that, like Clearwater, are home to religious landmarks but also draw millions of visitors from around the world for countless other reasons.

‘We extend our heartfelt condolences to Mr McMahon’s family during this difficult time.’