This will be quite lengthy. As it turns out, another member on here and I know each other and had some association a few years back when we were both active Witnesses. He says I should post my story. So here is the first installment.
My mother was raised as a Witness. Yet her family was extremely dysfunctional, right down to the wife-beating pedophile father that the congregation tolerated for way too long. While some of his sins were hidden until the kids were grown, some things were obvious, like my Grandmother having black eyes and busted lips. Nothing was done. But, when he let the air out of the Congrgation Overseer's tires and threw his literature into the mud, the congregation took action.Kind of a funny side note, my mom's uncle was on the judicial committee that disfellowshipped her dad. Anyhow, my mom, 7 of her 8 siblings, and both of my grandparents left the truth in the late 1960s. My mom married a family acquaintance in 1969.
In 1970 my oldest sister was born. My other sister was born in 1972. I came in 1976. I'm sure my parents had big hopes for me. They were living in a small town in SE Oklahoma. We had birthday parties, holidays, and attended the United Pentecostal Church. Later we switched to the Assembly of God. But my mom was always unhappy. She felt like Witnesses had the truth. After a disagreement with the church over the cost of Church Camp for my sisters, my mom called a local witness she knew and asked for a study. A few days later, this sister, her five children, and another sister and her baby, came for our first study. There was, counting my sisters and myself, 12 people in attendance. We went to our first meeting that week. Six weeks later, in the summer of 1982, we started going in field service. There was no local congregation, but there was a large, rapidly growing goup of Witnesses in our community organized into two book study groups. We drove 16 miles to the Kingdom Hall. My dad was initially opposed, but soon relented and began to study as well.
My parents had always had a rough marriage. Going to meetings only worsened it. They fought constantly, with both being physically aggressive. I remember times when they were fighting so badly that my oldest sister would take us kids into the bathroom and lock the door. Once we took the phone with us and she called an older sister and told her we were afraid. The sister said there was nothing she could do. She told my mom about it later and we all got whippings.
The congregation we were in was growing quickly. One of the elders was very charismatic and very respected. The local witnesses viewed him as virtually infallible. There was a sort of personality cult that made sure that everyone respected Brother L. Some Witnesses went to great lengths to make him happy. The family that studied with us, for instance, would hide their TV when he or his wife or certain other friends were coming over. This same elder also made many blanket rules for the flock. At his behest my mom had me burn my Smurf toys, my Star Wars figurine (I had only one, which my Witness aunt had given me, she was a California witness though), and my model ship named the SeaWitch. Apparently, as my mom explained to me, having such demonic items were affecting the harmony of our family. We could not expect Jehovah to bless our efforts as long we had these items.
Of course the real issues: my dad's drug and alcohol problems and my mom's problem as an adult survivor of incest were never properly addressed. So mom and dad remained very angry. My mom was baptized in the spring of 1983. My dad held me up on his shoulders so that I could see. My sisters and I joined the ministry school and became publishers around that same time. Even at that early age I was very articulate. I did not give simple magazine presentations. All of my presentations included scriptures. Everyone bragged on me.
My dad, at least for a while continued to smoke and frequent bars. My mom would sometimes load us up into the car, either late at night, or early in the evening when my dad had not come home as scheduled, and take us to the bars my dad liked. She'd leave us in the car and go in and get him. There would always end up being a big fight at home and my dad would leave bruises on my mom. Eventually my mom and dad split up. He moved to his and my mom's hometown..
We went to vist him, he and my mom took us to the city park. While we were there, they told us that they were getting a divorce. I cried and cried. We went back home the next day. During the next few days, the elders encouraged my mom to reconsider. So we moved to Central Oklahoma. The congregation there was very different. Our old congregation had a very charismatic, almost Pentecostal feel to it. Our new congrgation, which was made up primarily of my mom's extended family, had few young people and was very somber. The Presiding Overseer, who was also my mom's uncle, was very dry. He was very sincere and he and his wife were very kind to us. They would step in on behalf of us kids. We spent the night at there house a lot and it seemed that they were always looking for an opportunity to take us out to eat. They were the only good thing about our new hometown.
It was also during this time that we began to spend more time with my dad's parents. My grandmother was a very sweet woman. My grandfather, however, was a severe alcoholic. He was also a child molester. During the few moths that we lived near them, he bgean to abuse me regularly. It was not violent, but I was still scared to tell anyone. I knew it was wrong. But I thought that I was making Jehovah sad and would be disassociated if I told anyone. No one noticed that anything was different about me. My parents were too busy with their own issues to care. They were concerned about my frequent throat infections and bouts with pharyngitis, but it was dismissed as me just being sickly.
After we became Witnesses, my relationship with my dad began to suffer. As the unbeliever, he became the villain. We would always side with my mom because she was a Witness. The time that he used to spend with me fishing, playing baseball, etc was replaced by field service and meetings. That gap became worse over the years. Not until the past few years have we repaired our relationship.
After a few months we moved back to our original home. I will continue my story later.