This is my 13th post and my last. I had lurked on this site for years, joining to offer my condolences when Oompa passed away. I told little about myself and will offer more now, as I am leaving, in the hopes that it may help someone else. I will try to be brief. I am not doing this in an attempt to seek sympathy as my experience was only an inconvenience, I did not suffer at the hands of the borg.
I was born-in to a family that at the time was not strong in the faith. We attended two of the 5 meetings a week, the public talk on Sundays and the TMS during the week. We didn't stay for the Watchtower study nor the Service meeting. When 1975 was announced as the end of the 6th day, my parents rapidly ramped up their involvement. They got baptised, quit smoking, started attending all of the meeteings and field service every weekend. In 1973, my father had quit the job he had for 20 years, walked away from his benefits to become a Temporary Pioneer. He did odd jobs to keep food on the table and a roof over our head.
I was content doing reading assignments in the TMS, would occasionally answer a question at the Watchtower study but that was about it. I was a shy kid who despised Field Service and didn't like trying to "change someone elses religion." My parents convinced me to get baptised in 1975 as my imminent, horrible death was right around the corner if I didn't. I truly was not old enough to understand that decision.
1975 came and went and we were all still here. There was an elder in my congregation that I always thought very highly of. He was friendly with my family and would come to visit often. He was educated, had a good job and made a very good living. On one particular visit, the elder and I were tossing a football back and forth in the yard and talking about the future. I confided in him that the Society was wrong about 1975, I wasn't Bethel material, hated Field Service and wanted to go to college after high school. To my surprise, he told me that he also was vey shy and would much prefer to watch a baseball or football game on a Sunday afternoon than knock on a strangers door.
I told my parents that I would be going to college after high school. That would be the beginning of the end. On the day of my graduation, after the party was over, I was given notice by my parents that if I did not go to Bethel or pioneer like one of my siblings, I would have 30 days to move out. That 30 days provided me a very short period to get things in order. I found a cheap room, put new tires on my crap car, and found a third shift full time job.
I didn't make too many meetings after that. When I did, I was mostly ignored, the exception being my elder friend. He actually bought the books for my second semester in college. He told me that 6 of the 7 elders in our congregation had at least a 4 year degree. There were professionals at Bethel, doctors, lawyers, architechts, etc. and that those positions required education. After the second semester, I dropped out. The combination of supporting myself, mediocre grades and exhaustion made me pull the plug.
There was light at the end of the tunnel. An aptitude test that I took for a government contractor during my senior year of high school led to an interview and job offer.....halfway across the country. Needless to say I took it. My parents anger turned to hurt. Armageddon was right around the corner and they would never see me again as my death would also take place at Armageddon. My friend the elder wished me the best, hugged me like I was his own child and told me it would all work out. That was my last time in a Kingdom Hall.
My 8 year old Ford Pinto barely survived the trip. I settled into my job and did well. Shortly after moving, the contractor went belly up but I was offered a position with the agency we did business with. Phone calls and letters to my parents and siblings went unanswered. I later stopped trying. Siblings got married and had children, I was not invited or made aware that I had nieces or nephews. My father died 13 years after I had left, my mother called to tell me a month after he died. That phone call introduced my mother to my wife, it was the only time my mother would speak to my wife.
My mother called me shortly after 9/11. Armageddon was coming and I needed to come back to the fold. At this point, it had been 20 years since I had seen her and except for a couple of calls when she needed money, 7 since we really had a conversation. I suggested that my wife and I come for a visit, but my mother made it conditional, that if I did, I was going to all of the meetings while I was there. I did some thinking. I had not been involved with any organized religion for 20 years. My wife had not been to any church as long as I knew her. Maybe we needed religion in our life? I accidently picked up a copy of USA Today, a paper I hardly read. A group called Lord's Witnesses had taken out a full page ad describing the WTBTS association with the UN. My leaving had nothing to do with doctrine, it had to do with my parents objection to higher education. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The Governing Body was lying down with the wild beast! My research led me to this site as well as JW Facts, Freeminds as well as writings by Ray Franz (A GB MEMBER WENT APOSTATE!!!!), James Penton and others. There was no way I was going back.
I called my mother and said that we still wanted to visit but I would not be going to the meetings. I would mail her the information of what I had found and she could get back to me about when would be a good time to come. I never heard from her again. She died in 2005. This time there would be no delay in my notification, the funeral director called me. My siblings had no money to pay her final expenses. I sent him a check for the amount of her funeral and all I asked was that he send me a receipt. I did not attend her service. No thank you from my siblings or their children. No further contact from them either.
In the end, I am not hurt by any of this, they were brainwashed. I have a healthy relationship with my in-laws. My wife has more difficulty with this than I do. How could parents turn their back on a child? How is this "love?" This story could have been much different but both my parents and myself made our decisions. I feel no remorse, no guilt. They hedged a bet and double-downed on it. I took 1975 at face value. It didn't happen and I lost faith. That's the way the cookie crumbles.
My childhood association with the Witnesses did, however shape my future. I walked away as a young adult and for 32 years, there was only 1 slight glance over my shoulder. There were some really tough times in the beginning. Store-brand macaroni & cheese is not a balanced diet. The only handout I received was from my friend, the elder, who bought my books for the second semester of college.
As for my elder friend, I wondered about his fate. I had figured that he was long dead. 3 years ago, with the help of a few mouse clicks, I found him. He is living in an assisted living facility that is about a 5 hour drive from me. I called him and he is in his 90's and doing very well. He told me he had left the Witnesses around 1988, he retired in 1990 and moved to a less expensive area. His wife had died as well as his daughter, who close to my age. We now talk every other weekend and 3 or 4 times a year, my wife and I take a weekend to go see him. At least once a year, we sign him out and take him to a Yankee game when the Yankees travel nearest his home. Next summer, god willing, we will take him for a weekend to a Yankee game at their new stadium in the Bronx.
With that I will conclude. This was longer than I had planned. My story is nothing special. I was lucky enough to make lemonade out of lemons. There are countless people that have had it much worse than me, I wish them the best. But as I never fit in with the Witnesses, I don't feel I fit in here. I have absolutely no interest in debating Watchtower doctrine, right or wrong. As for politics, debating never changes people's minds. It brings out the worst in people whether it is at a cocktail party, backyard BBQ or an internet message board. To those things, I really have nothing to add. I do, however, like a good story. I will continue to look at the stories that people tell whether they be good, bad, sad, or happy. As far as posting, I am done.
Best Wishes.