Part 2: The non Bethel alternative and........... Do they shoot outhouses around here? After I had graduated high school in the early 1960’S I decided to make a commitment to pioneer. But within a few months I had grown bored working the territories I had grown up in. My Mother had it in her head that if I dropped out of the pioneer service I would probably become a Beatnik or worse go to college. But I had been a poor student in High School and didn't want to attempt college for a while. For my Mother even pioneering was not good enough.......... her first choice was Bethel. “Structure and discipline that’s what you need” .... I thought not. We lived an hour away from the Brooklyn Bethel, I had visited enough times to know that there wasn't any there for me.
Mom tired one last time to get me to see the light........ she invited my cousin who was in Bethel to give me a talk about serving Jehovah by gluing binders on books 5 & 1/2 days a week. When he arrived we went up to my bedroom for a private chat. He sat on my one chair, I sat behind my drum set. I did a little drum role stopped and waited for him to give me the ‘talk’. “Gio”, he said “you wouldn’t last a week at Bethel! Do yourself and Bethel a favor keep pioneering." He paused and continued in a lower voice. “You promised your Mom you’d pioneer for a year or two but you didn’t promise her where....right? There’s all kinds of congregations that need help.” The conversation was over. It might have been over but a seed had been planted. It’s funny when you don’t know what your looking for....... you can still recognize it when you see it.
It wasn’t long before I heard about a congregation in North West Pennsylvania that was in need of help. The Presiding Minister, Frank Spence, was trying to hold this little congregation together on his own. He’d had two special pioneers but one decided to marry her bible study (how cool was that) and the other had a nervous breakdown over the entire situation. They both were no longer there. I called him up and we talked for a half hour and he invited me to visit, meet the congregation, look over the area. He asked me if I had a public talk I could give. I said I did and would be pleased to share it. We set up a date.
It was a 9 hour drive from my home.... close enough to get back to see family and friends, far enough away to be on my own.
In person Frank was pleasant and had a good sense of humor and we hit it off pretty well. He was an ex missionary. I admired the missionaries especially the one’s who went to foreign countries............ to me they were the real deal putting it all on the line. Frank lost his first wife to cancer while on their foreign assignment. For the next five years he was paying off medical bills. During our discussion it became apparent that it had been a very hard time in his life. I got the impression that the society left him high and dry. He’d remarried, started a family and then decided to relocate where the need was great. Once a missionary...........
After our chat we headed to the Kingdom Hall. Actually it was really a Kingdom Store. A drafty old former store with a big ass funky gas heater which I viewed with some trepidation. They had 15 to 20 members, no pioneers and no brothers willing to serve. The Kingdom Store was small enough to make 15 or so people look like a crowd. While I gave my talk, which I sensed was an audition, I studied the audience and they me as the word was out that I might be coming to their congregation. Everyone seemed interested...... except for two elderly brothers, Hilly and Hoppy who napped during the talk.......... at least they didn’t snore.......much. Of course it was possible that the poorly vented gas heater they were sitting close to was affecting their ability to stay awake or then again it might have been my talk.
All in all it was a good visit. I returned home and considered my options. Pioneering in my home area.....boring. Or a North West Pennsylvania ADVENTURE. I called Frank and told him if he wanted me I’d be there in a week. There was a long pause and I thought he was changing his mind, later on he told me he hadn’t expected that I would actually come....... he cleared his throat and said that would be fine. My mother was surprised but thought it over and decided to be supportive. She would donate $75 a month until I found part time work, that was a big step up from the $14 a month I would have been making at Bethel.
I stayed with Frank and his family for the first week until I found a small cabin to rent just a little way out of town on a beautiful piece of land. The view of a meadow with a bold stream fading into the distant woods was outstanding there was even a picturesque farmhouse sitting on a hill above the cabin. This city boy was digging country living.
I was assured by the landlady that as soon as the electric was turned on I’d have running water and plenty of heat. The rent was $12 a month so the price was right. However I had overlooked something essential.....it didn’t have an indoor toilet! I missed that when I was shown the bathroom which had a shower and small sink. What it did have instead was an outhouse so apparently I’d be roughing it. I had never used nor even looked at an outhouse before so I went out to inspect it and as I approached I noticed something was wrong with the door. “What the......... are those bullet holes in my outhouse?” They were.
When using the outhouse one could peer through the bullet holes and look up at the farm house on the hill and wonder if someone was looking back through the sights of a rifle. Needless to say this did not bode well for my daily ablutions. This city boy was concerned. So after some serious thought I elected to take a modest breakfast downtown each morning and avail myself of a rest room that had not come under fire.
To add insult to injury the presiding minister, Frank, was also this small cities' Radio announcer. Since it was the only station I didn’t have a choice. In between music he’d read the local and national news and the weather. But now and then he’d add some catchword or expression that was aimed at me or family and friends in the congregation. I had the radio on heading out in the FS when Frank officially welcomed me, “Here’s a big hello to my pioneer friend who just found out that we shoot outhouses in these parts.’ Part 3 to follow.