When I was a Witness, I shared a house with an elder/pioneer named Herb. Herb was in his eighties, and he had paid off his two-bedroom house long ago, so he would offer the extra bedroom to local brothers. It was a good deal, and Herb got some company at the house, so everyone benefited.
For being in his eighties, Herb was exceptionally fit. Besides being a pioneer that actually walked a great deal, he worked in his garden every day, and he was known throughout the block for his produce, which he would sometimes give to neighbors. True to JW form, Herb also washed windows to make a living. However, in his case, one got the sense that he wasn't particularly perturbed that he still had to work at his age. He was a happy old man, humming all day long while he shuffled about (though I could never quite pin down what tune he was humming).
I lived with Herb for two years. During the first year, when I didn't have a serious job, I helped him with his window washing on many occasions. Herb and I got along well, so when he decided to move back to his native Canada and needed to sell the house, he gave it to me for under market value. I'll forever be indebted to him for helping me get my first house at a good price.
Herb moved back to Canada not quite three years ago. About a year and a half after he left, I went through my awakening and left the organization, so of course, we fell out of touch. As nice a guy as he was, Herb was absolutely a company man, so I didn't take offense when I never heard from him after that.
I found out last night from a neighbor that Herb had passed away. The news was fourthhand, so I sent a mail to a former friend in Herb's old congregation and he gave me the salient details. Herb died on April 25, from a cancer that was apparently unknown until shortly before that date.
After the initial fact of Herb's passing sunk in, I began to think about the fact that no one from any of the local congregations had seen fit to tell me about it. His death was almost a month ago, so I think I can safely assume that no one had any plans to do so. This is not surprising to me, but it does hurt.
Herb was a local legend. Everyone in the local congregations knew him, and almost everyone knew me. I personally am well acquainted with many elders in multiple local congregations where Herb and I used to go, who surely must have thought about me briefly as they considered Herb's death. And yet no one - not even the most decent one of the lot - had the human compassion or consideration to tell me about it.
They cannot plead ignorance of my whereabouts. I live at the house where Herb lived for 30 years, once frequented by car groups and produce-pickers. A simple letter would have sufficed. I'm in their territory, so they could have even stopped by during field service and left the letter in my door if they didn't want to waste the stamp.
I find their conduct totally inhuman. It is difficult to conceive of another group of humans that could act with this amount of coldness, excepting the Nazis and their ilk. On hearing of this, my girlfriend said in shock and disbelief last night, "These people are truly sick."
JWs claim to be the happiest, most well-adjusted people on earth. And yet when the rest of us see their actions, we cannot but stagger in grief over their total lack of humanity. Witnesses of God, they! What God could possibly be as heartless as those people who have been so conditioned by the Watchtower Society as to be devoid of all traits of love and compassion? Love in action! Jehovah's Witnesses do not know the meaning of the word.
Herb was an old man, so his death comes as no real surprise. And the failure of local Witnesses to tell me about it is no real shocker. But it serves as a fresh reminder of what a terrible, cold organization is that which bears the name Jehovah. If such a God does exist, he surely must hang his head in embarrassment over these his people.
SNG