I won’t be able to explain all the things my colleagues at Alcor Life Extension Foundation did, or why I made all the decisions I did during the seven months I worked there.

Some of those decisions, including why I first went to work at Alcor, may seem strange to you. As you’ll read, though, I’ve been an adrenaline junkie most of my life and the job as clinical director for Alcor promised to be unlike anything I’d ever done before, and never boring for me. Boy, was I right about that.

At first, the idea of working at Alcor fit the bill perfectly. Although the important cryobiological research I was promised during my initial job interview never materialized, soon it didn’t matter—the more I got to know my colleagues and the history of the place, the more immersed in it I became. Meanwhile, by slowly earning the trust of my eccentric coworkers, I became privy to many company secrets and was promoted to acting chief operating officer.

At some point, though, when I began to realize that really dark and possibly illegal things were being done at Alcor, I decided I owed it to everyone—the frozen Alcor “patients,” their families, the surrounding community, even the hard-core Alcorians sincerely hoping for another life beyond this one—to document the abuses that were going on under the roof of that strange enterprise. I observed unconscionable environmental and animal experimentation practices. My complaints about apparent

OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration) and EPA (Environmental Protection Agency) infractions kept falling on deaf ears. Worse, I soon began hearing persistent rumors about the suspicious, premature deaths of several Alcor members. So I began digging and have never quit.

I’d never before seen myself as a whistle-blower, but that does seem to be what I’ve become. I began copying Alcor documents and, later, recording conversations with my colleagues. Ultimately, I wore a wire every single day of my last three months there. I had to do this, and you’ll read why. I’d never imagined myself in that role, but I respect the truth, and people who aren’t afraid to speak the truth, even to the powerful.

During my time at Alcor, and in the six years since I had to flee Scottsdale, maintaining my self-respect by finding the truth and making it widely known have become, next to my wife and family, the most important things in my life. That’s why I wanted to write and publish this book.

Thank you for reading it.

Larry Johnson
July 1, 2009