I was sitting at my chair, quiet and not speaking, just like my mother had always told me to behave at the meetings. The speaker was talking about times past, and promised futures, and we followed along periodically with references looked up in our bibles. The sound of pages being shuffled through, filled the air at times and you could also hear people whispering silent comments in the distance. It was a typical day at the Kingdom Hall, and like all others as a child, I found myself day dreaming off in distant thoughts and not paying attention to the repetitive and often mundane speeches of the speaker. This Sunday was a little different though, as I was now approaching my teens and I found I was becoming more and more bold about my dislike of this place and comments to friends that I did not really believe what was being said, yet like many people in my age group I still wanted to do what was right for Jehovah and plug along like the Watchtower had instructed us to do so.
Yet as my eyes explored the room, looking for something to stair at for a moment, a slight movement was seen under a chair about four rows up. It was quick, but something I could not help but staring at to see if it happened again, and helped me to make sense of what it was. I watched and watched, and then it happened again. It appeared that the floor was lifting up and a hand was reaching out to try and grab one of the magazines that was lying under the chair it was near. The hand was gray and sickly looking, something out of place and not right. I staring at it in disbelief for a moment, and then I jabbed my mother and pointed it out to her and when she looked it was gone. "What was that?" I wondered to myself and my mother just jabbed me back to pay attention to the speaker. It was too late for that though, as I kept looking at this location and waiting for what ever was reaching out, to repeat itself and help me to understand what it was. I waited and waited, but it never happened again and then soon the meeting was over. While my mother was talking to one of her friends, I went up to where I saw the hand and tried to see if I could see an opening in the floor to which someone could reach out of. Nothing was there, not even a seam in the carpet that was ripped or broken, and I began to wonder if maybe I ate something bad for breakfast.
Months went by and soon I kind of forgot about this, or at least it was not on my mind anymore, and like every week of my childhood I was spending time at the kingdom hall again. We arrived early to this meeting, and there was only a couple other people here visiting with each other. I separated from my mother and went in to the second school to practice a talk I had, and try to get some of my nerves to calm down. As I went into the second school, I looked around and saw what looked like a coat that was ripped and torn and laid there abandoned by someone. It was odd though, as it looked like something from a black and white movie, when the rest of the room was it's normal colors. I touched it, and it felt ice cold and made me sick to my stomach. "What is this thing and how is it making me feel this way?" I left the room and as I did I ran across a friend of mine coming in to the Hall and I asked them to come back to the second school with me and see what I found, but as we entered the room it was gone. No one had been there before me, and after, so where did it go. My friend left to get their seat and I spent a few moments looking around for the coat and yet I found nothing. So I got back on track for my talk and soon I was on the stage giving it.
I was working on "proper use of notes" and this meant I had to not look like I was reading everything as I spoke and tried to look more at the audience. As a kid, this was hard, as you have all these concerns about what others think and how they look at you. Yet I did my best and as I looked out over the audience, I could see my mother and sister looking at me, a few friends and all those old people that seems like they are here each night. I was highlighting my reading, and pointing out some points and as I looked up from the Bible, I saw him, a man standing in the back wearing the coat I saw and staring right at me. Like the coat he was all black and white and looked empty of life. His stair sent chills down my spine and felt so cold, the room seemed to be Arctic to me. I paused for so long in this moment, the elder who was conducting the school made a coughing noise to get my attention and I realized I had been sitting there not speaking. I started to look at my notes again, found where I left off and finished my talk. I remember the elder mentioning in his review of my talk, to not pause to long if I get lost and not be scared to look at my notes. I could not pay attention long, as I kept looking back in the hall to try and see if that man was still there. He was gone though, and I got up to go to the bathroom to find him, to no avail as he appeared to only be there for a minute.
Years went by and now I was a Pioneer and out in service as a young person fresh out of high school and working in the field to make Jehovah's name known. I was in a large car group and we were working some fresh territory. By chance, I ended up having to work alone, and went to a couple of houses in which I was basically asked to leave or ignored all together. Soon I came up to a house that looked to have someone at home and as I knocked on the door and heard something coming from the side of the house. No one answered the door, but I kept hearing this sound over and over. Like whispering or people speaking. I worked my way over there, thinking I would find the householder there to speak too. As I rounded the corner, I saw him there standing, the man from my childhood looking at me. Only this time he was mere feet from me, and staring at me, I froze in fear for a moment and could not imagine what I was facing. He looked the same, gray and without color, expect this time his eyes had color a bright blue that stood out and made his appearance all the more intemidating. I spoke out to him, "Who are you, what do you want?" He smiled and laughed, and spoke softly, "You will know soon," and disappeared. I went back to the car group, not wanting to tell them what had happened for fear they might make a big deal of it and think I had problems with demons.
I was in my late twenties before I thought about this again. Married and ministerial servant and doing all sort of different task around the hall. One day after missing a few meetings, I was asked to meet with the elders, as they were concerned with me. I arrived at the Kingdom Hall a little early and since I had a key, I went in to get a few things done in the magazine department and get caught up with things I should have done at meetings, but due to different things in life, I was not able to attend and accomplish them. I had my recent Watchtower with me, and figured I would take advantage of this time to read my magazine and try to gleam some encouragement from it. As I opened the pages, and looked over the articles within, I found one point drew my attention more then others. It was something on generations and how the meaning of this had now changed. I read over the material and as I did, the door in the hall opened. I figured it was the elders coming in, although they were about an hour early. I got up to greet them, wanting to make sure they realized I had a good attitude and all.
As I came over to the door, and opened it, there he stood the man from the past who was always in black and white. He did not speak though, this time he lunged at me and knocked me to the floor. I hit the floor with a loud thump, I turned to ask what his problem was and as I did he jumped on to me and began to pound me with his fist. I tried to block, but his strength was stronger then mine. He was not black and white anymore, his body was fully colored and he looked strong and energized. The pain of the strikes was excruciating, I was laying their screaming and telling him to stop and he laughed and raised his hand up and punched me even harder to the face. As it struck I flashed back to my childhood and seeing his hand under that chair reaching for a magazine, and suddenly the memory changed, it was not a hand reaching for a magazine it was me seeing a friend of mine being smacked by his mother in the Kingdom Hall in front of me in a humiliating way, with no one doing anything about it. Then suddenly another fist hit my face and I flashed back to another memory of me giving a talk and seeing this man at the back of the hall, and it too suddenly changed and I realized I was not seeing this man after all, I was questioning how what I was saying about our believes made no sense to me. As I began to think about that, another whack was felt on my side and I was a Pioneer again, coming around the corner at that house and seeing this man again, and realized it was not the man I saw it was a person I spoke too who told me something about how the Witnesses were lairs and a cult and explained to me how that was true. All these memories, coming to light in the middle of this beating that was so painful and seemed to be leading to my eventual death. I could feel blood in my mouth, and my breathing was labored. I closed my eyes, and suddenly I felt a darkness come over me and a cold sweat and confusion. Then I blacked out, and soon I awoke, still on the ground and only this time I was not looking up at someone beating me. I was looking down at a shadow of a beaten man, fading away in my arms. My fist felt sore as if I had been beating someone up and as I looked at my hands and examined my body, I realized I had never been hit. I looked down in time, to see the man fade away completely and all that was left behind was a Watchtower, it was the one I was reading.
I set there holding that Watchtower on the new generations thinking, and thought for a moment at what this memories of my past encounters with this man really meant and realized this was all moments of doubt for me. Moments that lead up to this Watchtower, with a change I could never accept. I stood up, looked around the room one last time, and walked out the door of the Kingdom Hall knowing I would never return again. As I pulled out of the parking lot, and looked in my rear view mirror at the parking lot, I saw a child standing there in black and white, a teenager standing there in black and white, and a young Pioneer standing there in black and white, and I turned to see them and as I did they waved and faded to nothing. So I looked in the mirror again, and all I saw was that man with the blue eyes, in color now, and staring right at me, sitting in the drivers seat and driving away .... and I went home.