Hello everyone,
I haven’t posted anything much for a while, but the other day I was thinking about this story, and I thought I’d share it. I did think twice, though, because it involves incidents and behaviour so bizarre and non-christian that some readers might have trouble believing this kind of thing could actually go on.
But, it did; and I guess it’s just another confirming case within the well-worn theme: “I was a good Witness until I went to Bethel/I became an Elder/some other encounter with the Organisation” In my case it was indeed the experience of pioneering and the things that went on among the pioneers that were a major part of the process of me getting out of The Truth.
Anyway, like always, this story goes back to when I was pioneering in our London suburb congregation in the early seventies.
There were a group of us pioneers, all young, teenage lads. This group varied in size over the years between 4 and 8 people, as the membership churned. Through the whole period from 1970 to 1974 I was a regular, as was my friend Tom. I have written about Tom before, notably in this post about Twickenham Night Guards.
There were two other members of the pioneer cadre who were brothers. I’ll call them Stuart and Gary. They were the sons one of the most prominent Elders in our circuit. Their father, Derek, was physically a big imposing man, naturally dominant in any social setting. He was a loud, centre-of-attention type of guy, but was by no means a bully. He had a lot of charm, a ready laugh and was very approachable. But he did dominate utterly “his” body of Elders. It didn’t matter who was Presiding by rotation, Derek was the boss man. And the two boys were both chip-off-the-old-block alpha-male types themselves.
The older lad Stuart had a degree of common sense and was reasonably responsible. Somewhat bombastic and domineering in his personal style, he was very serious about everything. He married very young, and together with his new bride went to serve where the need was greater, somewhere in the North of England.
The younger boy, though, was simply a tearaway. Gary had none of his older brother’s seriousness, and zero sense of responsibility. The thing is, he had inherited all his father’s charm – and more - and was hugely popular with both sexes. He enjoyed a wild-living, party-going, fast-driving, heavy-drinking, multiple-girlfriend lifestyle, all the while pioneering. His parents, being wholly unable to control him, were kept busy just in the task of trying to keep him out of trouble. It’s a good job Derek had such powerful influence, because it was constantly being called upon to snuff out rumours, investigations and calls for Judicial Committees in respect of Gary.
Anyway, at one period, Tom fell completely under Gary’s spell, and that’s where this story gets started. But first, a bit more background:
Part of Gary’s double-life identity was the membership he maintained with his Neighbourhood gang. These were mostly boys (non-Witness, of course) that Gary had gone to school with. At the time – the early seventies - in a London overspill New Town such as ours, gang warfare and skin-head “bovver-boy” culture was rife. The gangs formed around the neighbourhood housing-estates and violent skirmishes between rival gangs were common. Gary loved it.
I can remember a few of us sitting in a pub with him, while he regaled us with tales of the fights he’d been in, the battles won and lost, and how, one time, his gang had secretly tracked and cornered a rival gang’s leader, and, eight-onto-one, had kicked his head in. “God, it was so great! Bloody brilliant, getting him!”
I just couldn’t work him out. How could he do this kind of thing? And then, the next day go out on the ministry, and answer up at the meeting that evening? It was insane.
The really guilt-inducing thing (for me) about it was that Gary was such good company – he could really make you laugh. There was a palpable sense of there being more fun to be had when Gary was in your group. But some of the stuff he was up to was just unbelievable. And sickening.
I remember one time when he was talking about how the gang had gone up to London’s Hampstead Heath area for a spot of queer-bashing. Hampstead Heath was a popular spot for gays to meet up, and so provided a rich hunting-ground for violent young skin-heads who roamed around in gangs looking to pick off vulnerable solitary gay men and put them in hospital for a few weeks. The tabloid papers coined the term “queer-bashing” It was closely related to paki-bashing, which also went on, but obviously, was aimed at a different target demographic.
Interestingly, Gary never mentioned being involved in any paki-bashing; perhaps just enough Christian upbringing had gotten through to him to hold him back on that, but he seemed to have no qualms about queer-bashing.
“And then, this bloke, just as we’re closing in, he puts his hands up to his head, and he says, almost like, whimpering, Please not my face! Not my face! and then he went down. God, it was so funny!”
Yes, how we laughed.
Like I said, I couldn’t work Gary out. I knew he could be a charming, funny guy, but I also suspected he was certifiably insane. I knew enough to keep my distance.
But Tom, as I said, fell completely under his spell. He spent more time hanging around with Gary. He would be constantly quoting things Gary had said, and would arrange to spend days in the ministry with him.
Until, one day, Tom finally got the invitation to join Gary in a drinking session with his gang mates. Tom was thrilled. Not by any means a violent person himself, he was, nonetheless, incredibly excited to be let into a part of Gary’s double life, and meet up with some of the characters he’d heard so much about. But, h e was going to get a little bit more than he bargained for.
As far as I know, from piecing the account together after the event, the evening started out well enough. Just a riotous drinking session in a pub a few miles outside of the town. But, at some point in the evening, Tom became aware that there was going to be some “knuckle” that night.
Perhaps he felt he couldn’t back out because he was with Gary, and ought to stick with him, or perhaps it was because he was a passenger Gary’s car and felt he couldn’t walk home. Or perhaps, secretly, it was the very thing Tom had been hoping would happen. But, at some point that evening, Tom decided to go along with it.
The gang left the pub, taking as many beer glasses with them as they could. These were useful weapons. They piled into the cars, and drove back into town to the rivals’ neighbourhood.
Spotting the target gang, they screeched to a halt and all charged out of the cars. Apparently (as Gary had told us) speed of approach and screaming your head off, making as much noise as you could, really counted in terrifying the unready opposition. Beer glasses would be hurled either right at them, or, to better effect, to smash on the ground right in front of them to add to the sense of panic. Then it’s all fists and steel toe-capped boots.
Tom kept right at the back, and threw his glass into some bushes. He was enjoying the thrill of it all, but had enough sense not to want to get too involved in any fighting. It would all be over in a minute or two anyway, and they’d all be back in the cars, laughing about it. He could build up his part in the action retrospectively.
But then – Disaster!
Nee-naw! Nee naw! Blue flashing lights everywhere. The police showed up. There had, it seems, been far too many incidents of this nature happening in the town and the coppers had either got lucky, or had been waiting.
Several of the boys are caught, but Tom and Gary make it back to the car, and they’re away.
And now Tom is involved in a real-life Police chase.
[ Remember, now, these fleeing felons are full-time pioneers, Christian servants of the Most High, Jehovah]
Gary screams through the streets, with the police chasing him. He makes for the country lanes outside of town. Gary – being Gary – is simply laughing his head off, but it’s fair to say that Tom is more terrified than he ever has been or will be again in his whole life.
Making it into a twisty country lane, Gary kills his headlights and speeds on insanely through the dark, literally risking his and Tom’s life at every turn.
And - they get away with it.
Much, much later, in the small hours of the morning, Tom is dropped off and Gary goes home. In the morning, Gary tells his mum that he has arranged to visit Stuart in Durham for a few days, and he drives off early.
Tom hears from one of the caught gang members that the police are looking for the two boys who got away, but they don’t know their names. They do, however, know all about the car. It is a fairly old Ford model, all souped-up by Gary, and then re-painted in a very distinctive black and orange pattern. All the coppers are looking out for it. Tom is mighty relieved to hear from Gary’s mum that the car is hundreds of miles away, along with Gary.
The next day, Tom, “in strictest confidence” spills the whole story to one of the pioneer group, who, of course, immediately shares it with the rest of us. What a hoot!
I’m in Field service with Tom later that afternoon, and he is very quiet and withdrawn. He is, in fact, having a serious internal meltdown through the sheer fear of the previous night's experience, and its unknowable consequences. He is expecting a hand on his shoulder and arrest at any minute, he’s never been more frightened.
I have no way of telling, really, but I’m pretty sure that Tom is making all sorts of deals with Jehovah at this time. “Just make the whole mess disappear, Jehovah, and I’ll never miss my hundred hours again, I’ll be the best pioneer there ever was. Please, Jehovah”
That night at the meeting, Tom is sitting near the front, with his Aid book out, every study article prepared for - every word on every page is underlined. He answers up over and over again.
The rest of the pioneer group, in our usual place near the back, look over at Tom and sneer. We know what’s going on here.
After the meeting a brother comes up to me, Rick, a married man, new in the truth, currently studying with Ted.
He says to me “I was sat behind Tom, this evening. The preparation you pioneers do for each meeting, well, it's incredible! How do you find time with all your field service? I’ll tell you, just having pioneers in the congregation is wonderful. I said to Tina (his wife) - I said - you can just feel the spirituality, can’t you, even just sitting behind them!”
I smiled and nodded.
Gary ’s few days away turned into a month. Neither he nor Tom was ever caught. Tom never went out with Gary’s gang again.
...OUTLAW