Buyers Snap Up Heaven’s Gate Goods
Just another Saturday and just another estate sale--except that the stuff in this estate was left by the 39 Heaven’s Gate cultists who committed suicide in March 1997.
It was a diverse group that came to a county government warehouse Saturday to bid on the earthly possessions left behind by the cultists as they embarked on what they believed was a trip to join a spaceship riding on the tail of the Hale-Bopp comet.
Among the several hundred bidders were the profit seekers, the bargain seekers, the curious, and maybe a few like-minded souls.
A young couple with tight, black hair and a leave-us-alone manner bought the cult’s book collection for $340, including “Star Trek Encyclopedia,” “Disneyland of the Gods” and “Aliens From Outer Space.”
A fellow from Hollywood survived spirited bidding to win the cult’s three vehicles: the moving van ($3,750), the wheelchair-lift minibus ($7,200) and the blue minivan ($4,000) that several cult members used for a sentimental journey to Northern California and Oregon before returning to Rancho Santa Fe and swallowing a deadly mixture of applesauce, barbiturates and alcohol.
The vehicle buyer said he represents people interested in making a Heaven’s Gate movie, “so realism is important.” He refused to provide reporters with his name, and officials of the public administrator’s office decided to honor his desire for anonymity, pending a legal ruling by county lawyers Monday.
Other buyers were not so shy.
Ken Powell of San Diego bought several of the red, white and blue bunk beds--where the cultists were found lifeless and shroud-covered. He plans to put them up for resale on the online auction house eBay.
It was a turn that the Heaven’s Gaters could have appreciated. Remember, this was a cult with a Web site and with several members who were computer experts.
“The Net is great for selling unusual stuff, like a Nazi helmet I got recently, and nothing is more unusual than Heaven’s Gate,” said Powell, who paid $100 to $200 each for the bunk beds and hopes to get $1,000 to $2,000. “I don’t understand it, but that’s people.”
Sky Cook, a San Diego college student, had the same idea. He bought a bunk bed for $120 and will try to sell it online, as a way to raise cash for Christmas.
Owners of the Museum of Death, in the process of moving their ghoulish establishment from downtown San Diego to a former Jamaican restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard, snapped up several items, including some bunk beds.
“People will love it,” said museum owner Cathee Shultz. “We already have the best Heaven’s Gate collection: some of the Nike tennis shoes, the shrouds and patches saying ‘Away Team’ and ‘Earth Exit.’ ”
Proceeds from the auction--$32,707--will be split among the families of the 39. To settle a lawsuit by two ex-cult members, the county had already relinquished the “intellectual property,” including leader Marshall Applewhite’s rambling journals, the farewell videotapes, drawings of aliens with bulbous heads, and T-shirts with the logo “FARFROMHOME.”
What was left was mostly humdrum household gear--dishes, appliances, silverware, a small trampoline, a fax machine, tools, VCRs, televisions, plastic trash containers, office chairs, folding chairs and paper products.
All in all, the Heaven’s Gate stuff was virtually indistinguishable from the 14 other estates being auctioned off Saturday.
“Stuff is stuff,” said Don Uithoven, of El Cajon, a veteran of the county’s bimonthly auctions, who bought some Heaven’s Gate kitchenware. “You’re going to wash it anyway, so what’s the difference who used it?”
Dave Simpson, a former police officer who lives in Tijuana, bought two of the Heaven’s Gate propane-fueled barbecue grills for $200 and $230. “The grills are real clean. I guess they didn’t barbecue much,” Simpson said.
Unless the Heaven’s Gate saga does, indeed, become movie fodder, the auction may be the final public act associated with the cult that burst from obscurity to worldwide attention with the largest mass suicide in the United States.
The seven-bedroom, 9,000-square-foot Mediterranean-style villa that the cult was renting has been sold for $1.6 million. The former owner, who was not a cult member, was sentenced to federal prison for a bribery scheme involving visas for foreign students.
To discourage sightseers, the property owners association that tightly controls life on “the ranch” changed the name of the short, windy street from Colina Norte to Paseo Victoria.
“It’s just one big crazy scavenger hunt,” said “Big Dave” Bradley, a San Diego boxing promoter and social commentator as he watched the auction. “Everybody is looking for a deal. That’s San Diego: everybody mooching off everybody else.”
