I've had occasion to catch back up with three different Sisters I used to date.
The years had not been kind to any of them, really.
I'm almost to the state of mind that makes me recoil from taking yet another chance
of bumping into yet another tragic story and being able to do nothing for any of them.
Posts by Terry
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10I revisit an old Jehovah's Witness friend from long ago...
by Terry ingoodbye old friend; someday we'll meet again ….
the ghost with the fine china cups.
my last memory of her… a friend from long ago.. julie was a startling beauty, a blue-eyed, natural blonde; a model, guitar player, a singer with glowing purity of tone, a talented writer, and possessed of a wicked sense of humor.. she was too young to be dating and yet she was a natural flirt.
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Terry
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John DeLorean BACK TO the FUTURE Backer
by Terry inmy john delorean story.
in the summer of '74, i moved my family to southern california.
i was trying to escape fromjehovah's witnesses and low-paying jobs.
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10
I revisit an old Jehovah's Witness friend from long ago...
by Terry ingoodbye old friend; someday we'll meet again ….
the ghost with the fine china cups.
my last memory of her… a friend from long ago.. julie was a startling beauty, a blue-eyed, natural blonde; a model, guitar player, a singer with glowing purity of tone, a talented writer, and possessed of a wicked sense of humor.. she was too young to be dating and yet she was a natural flirt.
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Terry
Goodbye Old Friend; someday we'll meet again …THE GHOST WITH THE FINE CHINA CUPS
My last memory of her… a friend from long ago.
Julie was a startling beauty, a blue-eyed, natural blonde; a model, guitar player, a singer with glowing purity of tone,
a talented writer, and possessed of a wicked sense of humor.She was too young to be dating and yet she was a natural flirt. She had a big crush. On me. I too had a crush. On her mother! An explanation is in order, I’m certain you’ll agree.
I was sixteen and standing on the quicksand of a Jehovah’s Witness adolescence. All my social contact was through the local Kingdom Hall. Any future prospect of dating or marriage was foreordained to be within the microcosmos of that religion.
Or so it seemed...back then…Carol Ann Smith, (Julie’s mother) had 3 beautiful daughters: Nancy, Debbie, Julie, and the fruit of the
Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was Carol Ann’s garden.That’s all the setting you’ll need, I suppose.
I was perhaps,” interesting ” because of my poetry, writing, artwork - who knows? I was tall, not bad-looking, possessed a rich vocabulary. I really don’t know what these people found worth their time. I was extremely flattered they cared at all!
Carol Ann took me under her angel’s wings and encouraged me to develop my talents; showing intense interest enough to become my Muse. It made all the difference in the world. I owe her memory a debt beyond evaluation.Carol Ann introduced me to Classical music and played Rachmaninoff while I spent time in her living room with her daughters (one on one). Nothing at all romantic in that deck of cards, I assure you.
Those years from my youth are treasures of my heart. Memory evergreen.
The following visit with Julie after five decades is bittersweet.
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In our phone conversations, Julie cautioned me--prepared me in advance she had been felled by an affliction or two and would not look the same.
On the phone, it was as though mere days had passed since our last encounter in the Jurassic era of our lives--so vivid and bright was her ravishing humor and personality I felt no necessity of bracing myself.
I drove to her apartment filled with warm enthusiasm.
Now, here I was standing outside her apartment - rapping on the door.
Finally, the door opened...slowly…
There before my wondering eyes stood this little old lady bent double; pushing a walker, covered with Band-aids.
Forward motion, perceptibly a maximum effort.It was all I could do ...not to gasp.
_____
I swallowed hard and entered her apartment - taking my proper position among her souvenirs, cats, and memorabilia.
Julia Leigh Smith stood slightly bent forward on the other side of a Japanese folding screen - still applying makeup and chatting away like the 15-year-old prodigy she once was. (Back when she was way too young for me…)
You can walk out of a darkened room into full sunlight and feel suddenly invigorated. Julie’s life had been the opposite.
She’d taken a path from glittering summer to darkest winter.I observed and listen to this living ghost - this cherished person so indispensable to my development as an artist and confident young man. Both Julie and her mother would invite me to read to them my latest work and praise my efforts; pouring refreshing acceptance at a time most sensitive to young artists - quelling fears and healing insecurities.
Old friends must catch up, spinning memories into gossamer recollection, capturing the missing bits, discovering missing pieces. Applying tiny editorial emendations. A wisp of this n’ that--flavors, hues, and shades -creating a new portrait of who we had once thought we were.
______
Julie performed nobly. We sat for tea in fine China cups with wistful vistas and Auld lang syne.
Old Friends chit-chat. Taking our turns pouring into the cup of memory - sipped, savored, and sighed.Her cell phone would ring now and again. An abrasive male voice--always the same voice--interrupting, demanding an accounting of this visit. The voice was insistent and irrepressible. It was Julie’s mysterious man friend. Not happy that another male had set foot in "his" domain was he. Mildly she assured and scolded him alternately, then, disengaged and apologized. Every man in her life for as long as she could recall was both controlling and possessive -and she added - rude.
Even now.But she didn’t want to have THAT discussion. Not today.
We spent our time on golden days - BEFORE the long, slow, slide into her present abyss.______
Julie and I had the common link that we were teenage Jehovah’s Witnesses. She had been ‘born in.’ Born in is so-o-o different than what I knew. No selective choice is involved. A young person feels trapped in a single point of view. No room is provided for sniffing out other ways of thinking, reasoning, or believing are permitted.
I, on the other hand, was “a boiled frog” gradually steeped in cold water, then not so cold, ratcheting hotter but not realizing I was ‘done’ till I was served on the platter in prison.
Cause and Effect thinking comes slowly to teens. Born in’s more easily go off the rails when adversity arises, in my opinion.As she spoke, it was as though she were pulling open sealed doors ripping open nailed windows. Bit by bit, I learned things I wouldn’t have dreamed. Shocking and unseemly things about - what really went on in her family. People I thought I knew hid a rotten side no matter how self-possessed or spiritual they appeared.
Julie had run away from all that by the time she turned 18. She set off out of Texas to Los Angeles, away from a Jehovah’s Witness frying pan into the fire of Scientology. Yes - Scientology! Her first attempt at examining another POV.
If you are raised around narrow-path thinking that disallows challenges to your dogma, you develop a taste for it - it might well seem normal that all other “alternate” Truths will have the same strictures.
Julie ended up pregnant and forced (Scientology’s policy) to abort if she wanted to remain ‘on staff’ as an Auditor.
She hung bravely until she fell apart and crashed; only then moving back to Ft. Worth, Texas.Somehow, she pulled it together long enough to start a promising modeling career.
In no time at all she met and married a man with money who built things for a living.
There was money--lots of it--and cocaine. She burned through a lot of both. Her candle was burning at both ends.
The addiction and her temperament collided and the balance of her mind was ‘disturbed.’She injured her spine. (Wouldn’t say how.)
The severity of the damage required an internal steel brace. As she was recuperating, she fell and twisted. The operation had cost a fortune. That fall bent the brace! Now a permanent stoop forced her forward into a curve.
Pain and misery ended the marriage. The divorce settlement was enough for her to possess a beautiful home, property, assets to last a lifetime. Right?
Wrong. The money went right up her nose.
Her back problem couldn’t be addressed without costing another small fortune. That was gone.
So great was her legendary beauty, there were still men who came and went--each time breaking off a part of her and leaving with assets.
I saw where her story was headed. She lost her home and property and friends, one awful decision at a time.She turned to her mother--her old - ‘competitor-in-chief’ - for money and pity, but soon exhausted what little remained.
See what a bright a wonderful reunion there was?
It was my turn.
I was disabused of any thought at all that MY life had been anything but lollipops and sparkling Unicorns by then. I recited a few of my standard Hollywood stories and divorces and crowed about my seven children. Finally, we found ourselves as quiet as two old people in a room staring into an empty teacup wondering where it all had gone.
We steeped in tepid silence for a long minute or two. An earth and moon sort of an embrace.
______
Eventually, visitation at the end, we vowed to stay in touch, maybe regather the old gang and have a proper reunion. I headed toward the door and she tried to follow as best she could to see me out. We hugged and I peered at her tear-brimmed blue eyes and caught a glimpse of a soul drowning in pain.
"So very nice to see you--let's do this again soon..."
_________
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The Most Unforgettable Man I Ever Met
by Terry inthe most unforgettable man i ever met.
let me call him a walking contradiction.
he certainly was at least that.. he was short, had crooked teeth, walked like a crab, and you could barely understand anything he was saying.
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Terry
I was just sitting here thinking ...Back "in the day" Reader's Digest would publish this sort of story.I just checked. The Home Page tells the tale:"We do not accept article proposals or original works of fiction, nonfiction, or poetry, and we cannot acknowledge or return unsolicited submissions."Okay. I was wrong. -
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John DeLorean BACK TO the FUTURE Backer
by Terry inmy john delorean story.
in the summer of '74, i moved my family to southern california.
i was trying to escape fromjehovah's witnesses and low-paying jobs.
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Terry
WingCommander
Your friend was just making more excuses to justify his getting rid of the vehicle.
___________________________________________
He was a little guy. I stood next to him looking down. (I'm six-four).
He'd probably need high heels to drive a Volkswagon :)
Guys like Billy Hork are a breed apart when it comes to telling a story.
I watched him speaking with Art customers and he was a spell-binder.
Being a short man meant he could get away with approaching people without
being threatening.
He insisted all sales associates learn what he called "The Rap" on every piece of artwork hanging in the gallery. Not just facts and dimensions, etc. It was a fairytale-style bedtime story!
"Anton Chichakov painted this canvas you're admiring and - did you know? He escaped from a Gulag in Russia! A Siberian prison camp! He was a political dissident who was critical of Stalin. He made his way on foot hundreds of miles before finding his way to a fishing village where he hid out and finally made his way to safety and freedom.
He learned to paint from taking odd jobs such as janitor work in a French atelier
(art-studio) where he mopped and swept and emptied trash but listened and watched the artists as they labored over their paintings.
He asked questions and learned techniques as time went by.
This painting of his is almost 3-dimensional because of the heavy use of palette knife and scumbling techniques ....blah blah blah...blah blah..."
There was no such man as Anton Chichakov, by the way. That painting was designed by a couple of American guys and painted by a crew in a warehouse! A friend of his wrote the Biography.
Such is the unseemly side of the Art world I soon discovered to my dismay.
Ahh, memories!
I could write a book about all the Art crooks I encountered! -
4
John DeLorean BACK TO the FUTURE Backer
by Terry inmy john delorean story.
in the summer of '74, i moved my family to southern california.
i was trying to escape fromjehovah's witnesses and low-paying jobs.
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Terry
My JOHN DELOREAN STORY
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In the summer of '74, I moved my family to Southern California. I was trying to escape from
Jehovah's Witnesses and low-paying jobs. I was an artist and decided to move where art
and artists were in demand.I performed various art-related jobs which led to meeting fascinating people along the way.
In the course of time, I found myself working in a Beverly Hills art gallery. The owner was named Billy Hork. He was about 32 years old, energetic, and quirky. Hork was the essential entrepreneur and he made quite an impression.
Billy Hork hired a Captain Hook look-alike handing out ‘picture hooks’ with business cards attached featuring his gallery!
Hork didn't want customers to just stand there staring at a piece of art in his gallery--no, no, no! He demanded his salesman walk right up and begin unwinding a reel of fascinating details for the viewer: how it was made, about the artist, the framing, etc.
I caught on quickly. Look at all the training I’d had as a Jehovah’s Witness! Knocking on doors and narrating the meaning of the Universe :) I became adept as an Art Associate and earned commissions for art sold.Hork arrived in California visiting and inspecting his West Coast gallery while keeping an eye on his shady partner, Tom Francini. We chatted for a couple of hours. I came away with a nifty John DeLorean story from him.
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Why don’t I share this story with you now?
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JOHN DELOREAN
In 1974, young Billy Hork met John DeLorean in New York.
Delorean designed Hork's favorite automobile the Pontiac GTO muscle car. Delorean also designed Hork’s second, third, and fourth favorite cars: Firebird, Grand Prix, and Chevrolet Vega. DeLorean was the kind of young, handsome entrepreneur who appealed to Billy Hork's sense of outrageous "style."They hit it off.
Delorean was pretty savvy about both money and the people who had it to invest. Billy Hork was “on tap” for Delorean’s charismatic world-building ideas.
The dashing designer confided in Hork, "I'm going to start my own automobile company and design and build the most outrageously exciting car in the history of the world!."
(Yes, he was modest, too.)Hork's tongue was practically hanging out.
He quickly grabbed DeLorean's arm and pleaded.
"I want the first one to roll off your assembly line!"
DeLorean smiled a big, wide, Cheshire cat grin.
"Okay, tell you what I'll do. Write me a check for $20 thousand bucks and you'll get the first one I produce!"
They shook on it. In a trembling hand, delirious with excitement, Billy Hork wrote big, handsome John, sexy John, a whopping check. (My hand would be trembling too, wouldn't yours?)
"Don't fill in the date yet," said DeLorean, "I don't know when that first car will be ready. Just leave it blank and I'll fill it in."
Hork agreed and then---a small thought passed before his mind. The seed of curiosity sparked a query.
"Um--uh, John--do you have any idea___approximately__when I might take possession of my fantastic new Delorean vehicle?"
John Delorean pocketed the check and clamped a firm, reassuring hand on Billy's shoulder. "Don't you worry--it won't take one day longer than necessary. I'll keep in touch with you."
And that was that.
It was 1973.
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Billy Hork told me this story many years later, of course, around 1982 or so.
He had a merry twinkle in his eye as he recounted the following details. . .
_____________
"That was in '73, and I didn't hear a squeak out of John for three years--three LONG years. One day, my phone rings and it's John. John is calling me!"
Hork's face flushed red with enthusiasm as he tells me this. His body became very animated. He pantomimed picking up an imaginary telephone and begins pacing back and forth like he's actually on the phone at that same moment.
"Hello John, it's great to hear from you. I'll bet I know why you're calling me! it's about the car you've designed. Is it ready? IS IT READY, JOHN?"
Then, Hork’s face turns to astonishment. He pantomimes grave disappointment. The smile sags into a droopy curve of forlorn sadness.
"Production problems? Oh. Yeah. Sure. Sure. I understand. . ."
So John DeLorean tells him there is a delay because cost overruns have cut into his available cash. A prototype is ready to demonstrate the concept of the gullwing vehicle--But the car is NOT YET very good. Then, big John drops it on him. . .
"I don't think you want the prototype, Billy. You can have it - just say the word - but, know this - I'm re-engineering it. I'm bringing in a guy from Lotus and rejiggering the engine into a fuel-injected V6. Moving things around inside. YOUR car will be the best my company can possibly put on the market. If you want to wait for it - THAT ONE is yours. Is that okay with you?"
So, Billy is waggling his head from side to side now like a man weighing life and death in an internal battle. The car looks fantastic--but--John DeLorean says it's not any good. What are another few months compared to getting the BEST of all possible great designs?
"Yes, John. That's okay. I'll wait."
And now. . . here it comes. . . ready for it?
John DeLorean tells Billy Hork, "I'll need another check from you. This time another $10 thousand dollars. Trust me, Billy--it's well worth the money!"
_______
The name of the redesigned car was to be called Z TAVIO. John DeLorean was combining his middle name and his son, Zachary's first initial.
Billy pauses and shakes his head in an exaggerated side-to-side motion.
"I later found out, Johnny Carson and Sammy Davis Jr. both had invested a similar amount too. In fact, DeLorean had already burned through $175 million dollars from investors!!"
Most quality issues were solved by 1982 and the cars were sold from dealers with a one-year, 12,000-mile (19,000 km) warranty and an available five-year, 50,000-mile (80,000 km) service contract.)
In case you didn't notice, 1982 is almost a decade after Hork and DeLorean had first shaken hands!
The name of the vehicle had changed by then to DMC-12.
About 9,200 DMC-12s were produced between January 1981 and December 1982.
But then?All that ended in bankruptcy and DeLorean was arrested on drug trafficking charges!
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Okay, take a breath. Let it sink in.So now I'm standing there staring at Billy Hork who has grown very quiet and still as he's lost somewhere inside his own thoughts and memories.
I break the silence. . .
"When did you finally get your car?"
Hork snaps out of his reverie and looks startled, but soon flashes his trademark smile again.
"I never got the one John promised--that first one. He had promised everybody things like that to get the money upfront. I'm not angry about it. That was just the greedy collector inside of me, ya know?"
I nodded but didn't really believe him.
He continued.
"The car was, at first, retail priced at $12 thousand. That's what the 12 meant in DMC-12 (Delorean Motor Company-12 thousand bucks.) But that never happened. The price kept going up and up and up. Eager car enthusiasts offered $10 thousand ABOVE whatever asking price there was. So, I wasn't the only idiot in the village."
I smiled at his self-deprecation.
"Funny thing is this. John DeLorean is six feet four inches and his design was for a man of that height to fit comfortably behind the wheel. I'm a lot shorter - you may have noticed - and I have to stretch my legs to reach the pedals!"
We both laughed.
"I came out ahead. I made money off of John because he was true to his bargain--sort of--in his own way."
(Note: adjusted for inflation, the DeLorean DMC-12 purchased by Billy Hork was going for about $65,000 dollars in today's money. Billy had only paid $30,000.)
"Well, that's quite a story. Are you driving it around now? I'd love to see it."
I'll never forget the expression on Billy Hork's face as he turned and looked up at me to answer my question. It was a wistful expression with a tinge of regret.
"Nah. I drove it a few times and sold it. Those gull-wing doors never worked right. I got stuck inside a few times and became the laughing stock- the butt of everybody's jibes when I had to be rescued from my fancy-schmancy exclusive vehicle."
He snorted and shook his head."I sold it and doubled my money. I felt sorry to see it go. I'd have been a fool to keep it when I knew I could turn such a profit. I admire John DeLorean a lot for selling it to me and seeing to it I took delivery. He went through hard times and had other things on his mind."
His voice trailed off.
Customers wandered inside the gallery where we stood. He walked briskly over to them and chatted them up. I stood watching him.Billy Hork died in 2008. He was only 62.
What a guy. What a story!
I really enjoyed listening to him and watching him act it all out.
I also enjoyed writing this to share that experience with you.
___________Terry Walstrom
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3
The Most Unforgettable Man I Ever Met
by Terry inthe most unforgettable man i ever met.
let me call him a walking contradiction.
he certainly was at least that.. he was short, had crooked teeth, walked like a crab, and you could barely understand anything he was saying.
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Terry
THE MOST UNFORGETTABLE
MAN I EVER METLet me call him a walking contradiction. He certainly was at least that.
He was short, had crooked teeth, walked like a crab, and you could barely understand anything he was saying. I’ve been thinking about Philip Moh since 1980. Yes - for 41 years. This man told me something 41 years ago I have been unable to forget. I’ll tell you what it was after I tell you about the man.
Philip Moh won awards as Best Salesman of the Year.
Year after year selling life insurance. Tough sell even for a handsome man who speaks perfect English.Philip Moh outsold every salesman by a wide margin and he worked for the largest Insurance company in the state of California.
His yearly bonuses included a fancy car, Patek Philippe watch, around the world vacation, stock and cash.
I worked for Philip Moh in a unique relationship.
I needed a second job, part-time to earn extra money. My 4th child was about to be born. I answered an Advert in the L.A. Times for a telephone solicitor “with highly persuasive phone skills.”
I may not have known what exactly that was - but I surely knew what it wasn’t.
First off, you can’t be pushy, sneaky, or fast-talking. That’s tough for a solicitor to grasp for some strange reason. Reading from a script too long and badly written shuts down almost everybody in the first ten seconds. I knew that much and that’s all I needed to know.
I dialed the number and he answered.
I could-barely-understand-him!
All he said was this. “If you want the job - just try and sell me a pencil.”
(Try to keep in mind - this was in the pre-computer era. There was no internet either.)
I asked for further clarification but he just sort of yelled:
“You have two minutes to sell me a pencil. GO!”
I shrugged my shoulders and dived in.
“Do you know what cost tens of thousands of dollars? A ballpoint pen so astronauts could write in zero gravity in space. Do you know what costs about a dime and writes upside down and underwater? A pencil.
We all make mistakes because we’re human but if we make our mistake using a pen - we’re screwed! If we use a pencil - we turn it around and use the eraser and instantly have a fresh start - no extra charge!
This simple fact is so obvious we don’t stop and think about it. We all need a pencil handy and I’m here to help you and your family make sure you’ve got one on hand. How many packs can I put you down for?”
I stopped talking.
Philip Moh spoke: “That was 45 seconds. You have a minute 15 seconds left.”
I answered: “Don’t need it. More is less. Short and sweet gets the job done.”
Silence for a second or two.
Philip Moh: “I love it! You’re hired.”
And that’s how we started.To be a successful salesman, what do you think you would need to have as a very basic starting skill-set? Pleasant appearance? Great speaking skills? The ability to put people at ease?
Philip Moh was none of the above.
I’ve already described his appearance and difficult speech style. What I didn’t tell you is what follows.Philip Moh told me what had happened to him when he was 5 years old in China.
He fell off a balcony. He landed on the flat of his back.
He was crippled by his injuries and unable to move for a year. But his mother was a special person. She believed it was better to do “something” rather than nothing to help her son. Her efforts were heroic and made all the difference.Through exercise, discipline, determination little Philip learned to move on his own and finally walk. It was a strange walk but effective.
Philip’s family had no money but a strong work ethic. They moved to America for opportunities. Philip worked his way through school, learned English, won honors, and applied for a job as a life insurance salesman.“Why Philip? Selling? Why?” I couldn’t see how that would be his first choice.
He explained.
The insurance company wouldn’t have to take a chance on him failing.
Salesmen are on straight commission. If he wasn’t any good at it, he’d starve.
He’d fire himself, so to speak. He thought they might have reasoned that there was a large Chinese community in California and he had a shot at selling his own people.
Philip Moh was given a chance. That’s all he required.
He read the sales manuals, attended sales meetings, and then bought himself a good suit. In five years’ time, he was winning sales contests and winning awards.When I first walked into Philip Moh’s office, I was taken aback by his appearance.
I felt uncomfortable. That’s on me. I had to adjust to his speaking style: garbled.
I didn’t know where to look. I pretended to look at his face--in fact--I looked through his head at an object behind him.Yes. I know--I sound like a monster. I’m just being straight with you.
But then, a strange thing began to happen.Do you know what CHARISMA really, truly means?
Whatever you think it means--there is a kind of supernatural magic “some” people possess which makes them spellbinding.
Philip Moh had a bucket of CHARISMA.
He practically “had me” at “Hello.”
We hit it off. He hired me.
I left his office with my head spinning. I was dazed.
“What just happened?” I asked myself.
I had no answer. I still don’t have one!
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I was hired to obtain leads by making random phone calls. Leads are potential customers.
Philip Moh told me:
“Just get me both the husband and the wife willing to sit down with me for 15 minutes knowing in advance I am an insurance salesman and I will sell them--guaranteed--no exceptions.”
Moh couldn’t do this for himself because it required telephone skills.
He had none!
I gave it my best shot and it worked.
He told me I was the best lead man he’d ever hired.
“How many have you hired?” I had to ask.
“I go through about 200 fails a year. Sometimes more.”I LOVED THAT!
We hit it off as I said.
_____
After a month of working for Philip, in his office, on his telephone--I asked him
The Elephant in the Room QUESTION.Philip Moh’s answer to that question is what I’ve thought about for 41 years.
(See how I finally got back to the point?)
Remember what I said at the top?
I said:
“Let me tell you what Philip Moh told me. I’ve been thinking about it since 1980.
Yes, that’s 41 years.”_____
Here is what I asked him and how he answered.
_____
“How do you do it, how do you manage to sell so much insurance to so many people?”
Moh looked at me in a strange way for a minute. Behind his eyes, a magnificent machine was churning, ticking, calculating a reply.
“Okay. I tell you,Terry.” (When he said my name, Terry, it sounded like “Tah-ee”.)
Moh got up from behind his desk and walked over to his door and shut it!
I felt like I was at the C.I.A. chief’s office about to learn who really shot J.F.K.)The implication was that what I was about to hear was too precious a secret for anybody to know...but me.
I already felt honored!
“People want to believe good things about themselves. My job is to help them believe the best possible thing. A person who pays money month after month for life insurance gets nothing for all their payments. They must be dead for anything to happen! What kind of person buys something like that? I explain. Only a hero does that! A selfless person who truly LOVES others does that. It takes a great person with a great heart to reach out and help their loved ones even after they are dead. If you want to be remembered forever as that kind of hero by your wife and kids--I am there to help them. That is my job. Their job is to become that hero.”
Wow! I went light-headed.
I don’t know what kind of answer I had expected. Not that.
He was very honest with me. He went on to explain.
“I know I make people uncomfortable because of my arthritis, my bad English, my appearance. Yes--I do know that. I also know something more important. Good people want to give a man like me every chance possible. That is my only advantage. Good people sit and listen to me. I am there to help them and allow heroic and unselfish hearts to shine.”
Now, do you understand why he is the most unforgettable man?
I kept thinking, “People want to believe good things about themselves.”
I still think about it. Salesmanship is empowering others to think well of themselves. Wow. Still blows my mind.
Is that why I became one of Jehovah's Witnesses?
Did I want to see myself as heroic and willing to go to prison to demonstrate what an unselfish person I was in serving God?
Are JW's empowered to believe the best about themselves through all those holidays they don't celebrate, through the thankless door-to-door preaching?
Is THAT what was going on? Were we paying the hero’s price for self-esteem?
I still think about that, and now - possibly you will be too.
______________________________
Being honorable or heroic may well be a talent some are born with while others have to work hard at it. -
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What Do They Have in Common?: Covington/ Muhammed Ali / Disfellowship policy
by Terry incovington / muhammed ali / disfellowship (what do they have in common?
)“hayden c. covington, one of the most influential figures in the history of first amendment law.
beyond the numerous first amendment cases he argued or co-argued in the supreme court, he also prevailed on behalf of the witnesses in over “100 decisions handed down by various state supreme courts, and .
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Terry
Good read Terry Just one question though, what was he DFed for ?
Rafe, I can't say positively he was DF'd for alcoholism but that's all
anybody complains about concerning Covington.
Rutherford drank 'at least' as much as HCC.
I'll use a Theocratic word here: "Apparently" he was DF'd for drunkenness.
I suspect he was either unrepentant or insubordinate vis a vis Knorr. -
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MIDNIGHT MASS on Netflix is extraordinary (horror)
by Terry ini will post a **spoiler** in a few minutes.a 7 part horror movie on netflix titled midnight mass blew me away and i thought i mightrecommend this limited series (only seven parts.first of all, there is a word never ever mentioned by anybody in this horror drama.that is for a good reason.
a very good reason.
i won't mention it either or i'd ruin part of the build-up inside the plot.suffice to say, this horror story is a very fresh take on a well-trodden path we've all been down many times (if we are fans.
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Terry
Yes, slow opening and then.................BOOM!
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What Do They Have in Common?: Covington/ Muhammed Ali / Disfellowship policy
by Terry incovington / muhammed ali / disfellowship (what do they have in common?
)“hayden c. covington, one of the most influential figures in the history of first amendment law.
beyond the numerous first amendment cases he argued or co-argued in the supreme court, he also prevailed on behalf of the witnesses in over “100 decisions handed down by various state supreme courts, and .
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Terry
I think about how underpaid and unrewarded such a potent attorney was
because of his association with Jehovah's Witnesses.
Today the Watchtower cult pays millions of $$ to lawyers.
The money spent is for nefarious purposes.
What Covington achieved has considerable impact for the good ...mostly.
Some people are simply born at the wrong TIME in history.
