Terry

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Posts by Terry

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  14

  What sort of people were the JW's who went to prison? Government study tells all

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  do you feel a draft?

  (jw’s did-in the 1960s)i thought you might find it interesting to review exactly what the u.s. government thought, studied, and wrote about people of conscience during the vietnam war.what follows comes from official records…more than half of the 27 million men eligible for the draft during the vietnam war were deferred, exempted, or disqualified.

  (cortright, david (2008).

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  Terry

  Rutherford and his Board were in Atlanta and they might disagree with the "lived like kings" :)
  However, Nathan Knorr and Freddy (the Oracle) Franz had a jacuzzi filled with naked boys - soo....
• 
  14

  What sort of people were the JW's who went to prison? Government study tells all

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  do you feel a draft?

  (jw’s did-in the 1960s)i thought you might find it interesting to review exactly what the u.s. government thought, studied, and wrote about people of conscience during the vietnam war.what follows comes from official records…more than half of the 27 million men eligible for the draft during the vietnam war were deferred, exempted, or disqualified.

  (cortright, david (2008).

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• 

  Terry

  I found this poem I wrote about SEAGOVILLE prison:
  
  

  CAPTIVE THOUGHT
  
  Through the prism of a prisoner’s point of view, it must be said
  Nothing freely follows from a prison inmate's head

  if your audience is captive there is no need to rebuff
  Any stab of poetry even though it’s silly stuff
  
  Often thinking the unthinkable
  presuming to presume
  SEAGOVILLE inspires the author’s dark desires
  While confined at night inside his tiny room

  
  Wit is for the witty not the pretty nor the proud
  Merely japing jungle jargon (jarring jawbones laughing loud)
  
  Coloring your adjectives with every spoken word
  Borders on the ludicrous, the loutish, and absurd!
  
  (for instance)
  
  No, my mother’s not a trucker but I’m gonna get you, sucker
  Don’t bend over in the shower for the soap
  Snitches will get stitches, (never trust those sons o’ bitches)
  Keep an eye out for the pervs who like to grope!
  
  The food is in the Mess and often mess is in the food
  But you’ll eat it and you’ll like it - (or you won’t)
  You can choose the DO’s you DO by simply doing what your told
  or refuse the few you don’t
  And spend the night inside THE HOLE
  
  Ah yes, SEAGOVILLE, my Brothers
  Was a home unlike all others
  The confinement simply smothers you with cops
  Pray parole will turn up
  With all your Hope you burn up
  While you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop
  
  Seventeen thousand hours is the average time we spent
  With room and board on Uncle Sam (so none of us paid rent)
  Because we loved Jehovah and embraced His word of Truth
  One day we’ll stand before His King
  who’ll weigh our ‘worthy’ proof
  
  ____________
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  14

  What sort of people were the JW's who went to prison? Government study tells all

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  do you feel a draft?

  (jw’s did-in the 1960s)i thought you might find it interesting to review exactly what the u.s. government thought, studied, and wrote about people of conscience during the vietnam war.what follows comes from official records…more than half of the 27 million men eligible for the draft during the vietnam war were deferred, exempted, or disqualified.

  (cortright, david (2008).

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• 

  Terry

  I was sentenced and jailed in the country jail in Fort Worth, Texas in '67, and ten days later
  taken outside Dallas to Seagoville Federal Correctional facility. After the first six months
  I went before a Parole hearing.
  That first time, I intuited the members of the Parole Board wanted to 'poke the bear' and
  make me kiss their collective ass.
  That was problematic. Of course, I wanted to get out of prison as soon as possible. Duh!
  But their smarmy attitude of power irked me.
  
  I was asked if I liked the lovely facilities of the prison. Now that's a pregnant query!
  Better to make the question neutral than to insert the word "like."
  My thought at that moment was that I was being baited.
  Maybe I was just being paranoid. I don't know for sure.
  "I'm not accustomed to any everyday association with criminals and that colors my views," I answered as evenly as I could.
  Unfortunately, the reaction was negative.
  "You've broken the law - you're a criminal. Maybe the other inmates resent being in here with you."
  Involuntarily, I laughed!
  I shouldn't have responded as I did.
  "That's just silly. The other inmates are here for robbery, extortion, loansharking, drug trafficking, kidnapping, and one fellow I met the other day murdered five F.B.I. agents. Who would you want to be trapped in an elevator with? Me or them?"
  Yes, I was stupid.
  I went up for parole again the next year and mostly kept myself confined to pleasant "Yes or No" answers.
  In 1969 I did get parole and remained on parole for 6 years! I reported to my parole officer regularly and
  let me tell you - THAT guy was a genuine butthole who left no doubt in my mind he was power-mad and held my fate in his hands.
  More than a few of my fellow JW's served 3 years or more and were bounced from prison to prison, state to state never received any letters from their home congregation or got a single visit.
  There were 50 of us during my time spent inside.
  Last year I was contacted by one of the Bros and told of a reunion to be held on ZOOM for all
  the guys I hadn't seen or spoken to in 50 years.
  I'm the only EX-JW among them. Just think about that. I know I did.
  There have been 3 online Zoom reunions so far - I skipped all of them because I did not want
  to lie to any of them or misrepresent my status.
  I love those guys. We have a bond like none other. I've spoken to five of them on the phone...just feeling them out.
  We are all in our mid-70s and none of them is retired from work except me.
  They are unhealthy, falling apart physically, depressed, in some instances - I'd say 'robotic'.
  By that I mean - what did I expect? Saying the same things over and over for FIFTY YEARS!?
  All those Kingdom Hall hours spent listening to - fill in the blank. I'd have shot myself by now had I
  remained inside. Whew.
  I have one really close friend among them who knows my status and doesn't care.
  He and I agree that many of the prison Brothers are probably PIMO but don't wish to lose friends or family.
  All they have is the eternal Armageddon is almost here mantra.
  They'll be waiting on Jehovah till the day they drop dead.
  It makes me very sad, actually. Very sad.
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  14

  What sort of people were the JW's who went to prison? Government study tells all

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  do you feel a draft?

  (jw’s did-in the 1960s)i thought you might find it interesting to review exactly what the u.s. government thought, studied, and wrote about people of conscience during the vietnam war.what follows comes from official records…more than half of the 27 million men eligible for the draft during the vietnam war were deferred, exempted, or disqualified.

  (cortright, david (2008).

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
• 

  Terry

  DO YOU FEEL A DRAFT? (JW’s DID-in the 1960s)
  
  
  I thought you might find it interesting to review exactly what the U.S. government thought, studied, and wrote about people of conscience during the Vietnam War.
  What follows comes from official records…
  
  More than half of the 27 million men eligible for the draft during the Vietnam War were deferred, exempted, or disqualified.
  (Cortright, David (2008). Peace: A History of Movements and Ideas.)
  
  The Federal Government and the Military created three categories for these fellows.
  1. Draft Evaders
  2, Draft Resistors
  3, Conscientious Objectors
  
  It is now known that, during the Vietnam era, approximately 570,000 young men were classified as draft offenders, and approximately 210,000 were formally accused of draft violations; however, only 8,750 were convicted and only 3,250 were jailed.
  
  
  The SELECTIVE SERVICE SYSTEM was “kind” enough to provide recourse for non-combatants. (see below) and that Alternative was “other than” Military or Political.
  
  
  
  We see from the above, that Alternative Service was viewed as being neutral in the eyes of the Law.
  This is where the fun begins!
  The attitude, mental state, and the reason given by each individual person actually determined how the Law would act - or-” react.”
  
  
  
  The funny part (not “ha-ha” funny but peculiar) is that there is a technicality in all this that seems to be very hard for many folks to wrap their head around. Jehovah’s Witness Brothers were automatically exempted from the Military when they were deferred as Conscientious Objectors but - by also refusing community service instead of Military service, their DOUBLE-refusal was regarded as defiant, obstinate, and wilful insubordination.
  
  
  Very few Judges could make heads or tails of this, it seems. Some did - most didn’t.
  As a matter of fact, asking for that EXTRA privilege (requesting probation) backfired for many of those requesting special privileges.
  
  Depending on the particular judge, attorney, or jury a JW had - the sentence might differ quite widely.
  
  
  That part (above) about Indeterminate sentences under the Youth Corrections Act,
  was my category: the maximum sentence was 5 years EXCEPT under the YCA, and I received a 6-year sentence because I was 20 years old and my judge (Hang em’ High Brewster) decided to feel this was appropriate. (Sigh). Long story short: no two JW’s received the exact same treatment. Most of us never knew what our Brothers’ actual state of being was unless he volunteered to tell us. Among us are many untold stories!
  
  Eventually, we were paroled and faced the prospects of going back into everyday life with an invisible impediment attached to our reputations (as far as employment was concerned).
  
  
  Our prison experience might well be summed up by outsiders in the following way:
  
  
  
  HALF A CENTURY ago we of the SEAGOVILLE brotherhood went into the local County Jails and served time in several Federal Correctional Institutions. Seagoville ironically had been built originally to house Japanese-Americans during WWII whose only crime was being the same nationality as the country the United States was fighting overseas.
  
  When we finally made it back to our local congregations and asked to fill out our time spent in service card - those 17,532+hours looked mighty impressive - did they not?
  Yes, I am jesting!
  That time wasn’t counted - but for us - it counted. Just simply knowing that time didn't count with the Watchtower Society says a lot. In my mind, it means I and my fellow inmates were "useful idiots" and used as public relations to promote the idea that persecution proves the JW's were the true religion.
  
  All of us separately and together did exactly what we were asked to do by our local congregations and (tacitly) by our Governing Body at the time. It was told to each of us quietly, circumspectly with caution: "Do NOT tell anybody you were instructed to do this. You must say it is your conscience." IRONIC, isn't it? We were told what to say as if our "conscience" was concluding ALTERNATE service was just as bad as military service. Who thinks that way? Who reasons like that? I found the above information quite revealing. Maybe you did too.
  
  ________
  
  Addendum
  
  New Light
  
  1996
  "What, though, if the Christian lives in a land where exemption [from military service] is not granted to ministers of religion? Then he will have to make a personal decision following his Bible-trained conscience. What, though, if the State requires a Christian for a period of time to perform civilian service that is a part of national service under a civilian administration? That is his decision before Jehovah." Watchtower 1996 May 1 pp.19-20

  
  

  “Jehovah’s Witnesses are grateful when governments exempt them from military service altogether or allow conscientious young men and women to perform nonmilitary civilian national service. (Romans 12:18; 14:19; 2 Corinthians 10:4; Hebrews 12:14) Furthermore, the Witnesses’ neutral stand means that they do not interfere with those who choose to serve in the armed forces. Application of this simple principle makes Jehovah’s Witnesses exemplary, peace-loving citizens from whom governmental authorities have nothing to fear. “
  
  https://www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/Documents/Issues/RuleOfLaw/ConscientiousObjection/JehovahsWitnesses.pdf
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  2

  MY TWIN Brother (finally)

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  my twin brother.

  i seldom mention my twin brother.. for good reasons, of course.. he has only lived ghost-like inside my mind due to a comment made to me by a declaration from my grandfather.. we were in his car and he turned to me non-sequitur and declared with no pretext: "you know you have a twin brother, don't you?".

  at that point, we had arrived at school and i had to exit my grandfather's car.

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  Terry

  I know. Believe me...
  the dream was more real than life itself.
  
  
  
  p.s. I'm the only person I know even near my age group who takes no pills, medicine, narcotics,
  marijuana, or - in short: I'm healthy as a horse. Wherever dreams originate: this one was a double-barrel blast with a kick.
• 
  2

  MY TWIN Brother (finally)

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  my twin brother.

  i seldom mention my twin brother.. for good reasons, of course.. he has only lived ghost-like inside my mind due to a comment made to me by a declaration from my grandfather.. we were in his car and he turned to me non-sequitur and declared with no pretext: "you know you have a twin brother, don't you?".

  at that point, we had arrived at school and i had to exit my grandfather's car.

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  Terry

  MY TWIN BROTHER

  
  

  I seldom mention my twin brother.

  For good reasons, of course.

  He has only lived ghost-like inside my mind due to a comment made to me by a declaration from my grandfather.
  
  

  We were in his car and he turned to me non-sequitur and declared with no pretext:
  "You know you have a twin brother, don't you?"

  At that point, we had arrived at school and I had to exit my grandfather's car. I was too stupefied to hold my ground, ignore the bell (for classes) and demand explanations.

  No, sheep-like, I went on to class in a cloud of puzzlements.

  You might well have done otherwise.

  There was no follow-up, except to say, "Ask your mother about it."

  Of course, I did.
  
  

  Nobody was more slippery (some might say "cunning") than she.

  Mother could tie a bagel in knots. Her verbal gifts were beyond measure. A consummate liar, you couldn't step into her arena without the ground beneath you turning to quicksand.

  Yes, the more you struggled; the faster you were subsumed.

  Try asking the wind why it blows…
  
  

  Next, I tried my grandmother who was of a different temperament than her own daughter.
  I got nowhere.

  Some kind of solemn, sacred pact between them had sealed her silence.

  Magically the subject changed - transformed in the blink of a blind eye. The subject was roses. Presto!

  Finally, one shrugs and moves on. "Nothing to see here - move along."
  Life seized my shoulders and pushed me off in other directions. Such is life.

  In my now seventy-five years, I've often met people who recognized me, yet I'd never met them. I won't bore you with the instances of those awkward denials - insistence - denial - wary acceptance ritual. Except to say I developed a pearl around that grain of irritating sand: a charming way of information gathering detective work. A little here; a little there. One hopes a portrait - a police artist's sketch of the perpetrator might take form and conjure answers.
  
  

  A digression here:

  There is a legend about eternity that goes like this.

  A little bird, every thousand years, pecks on a granite mountain. One tiny peck and flies away. Eventually, the story goes, that impossible task is complete. Having done so, the legend calmly declares: "This is but the first day of Eternity."
  
  

  My first day of Eternity is finally complete.

  It all adds up. Finally.

  I glimpsed my Twin yesterday.

  Much more than that.

  I followed him around. I snooped, spied, eavesdropped, and voyeured at his every movement.

  You're wondering - "Why didn't you simply walk up and introduce yourself?"
  So great a Mystery over so many decades demands resolution - does it not?

  Perversely, I tell you - it was no longer necessary.

  I'll tell you why in a moment.

  (Judge me harshly if you prefer but keep it to yourself. )

  One does what one must do as inevitably as day follows night.

  In a lifetime, we eventually become who we are.

  The sculptor's chisel at work: some small bit flies off now and then. That block of granite I mentioned is being roughed up in trials and travails. Michaelangelo's obviously spurious declaration when asked how he sculpted DAVID out of cold stone. Thus said to have uttered this famous banality:

  "I chipped away everything that didn't look like David."

  If you are dull-witted at this moment I suppose you missed my point.

  Let me insult your intelligence with further remonstrance.
  
  

  A TWIN is only "a twin" if the two persons grow up side by side, dressed alike, spoken to as a pair, under one roof parented identically as - not individuals - but as a hyphenated duality; a mystical TRINITY doctrine (minus one) to be taken on faith alone.

  You see? My Twin was simply a univocal person. He was unambiguously himself with absolutely no reference to "other."
  
  

  ("Other" means "me.")
  
  

  We had identical DNA but different experiences, (that little bird pecked and pecked at us day and night for our share of eternity. )

  Michaelangelo in-the-sky chiseled our souls quite separately.

  We emerged transmogrified. Too stuffy a word for you?

  Plainly speaking: I was a cucumber and my twin was a pickle.

  Or - have it your way - the other way round.
  
  

  Where am I going with all this blather?

  This does have an endpoint. This mystery IS solved.

  Yes, dammit - I DID CONFRONT MY TWIN!!

  Why should I tell you about this?

  My feeble answer is - I am a writer and that brings with it a compulsion, it means "tell everything." Either way, ready or not, here comes the REVEAL, the denouement.

  Take it or leave it.
  
  

  24 hours plus a bit more to wrap my head around all this now expired. I confronted - or was confronted - with or by my brother.

  My Twin brother was a little taller, stronger, and deeper voiced.

  His eyes are bluer than mine.

  He dresses better and carries himself with bold confidence.

  He isn't given to exaggeration or subterfuge. He says what he means and no coloration is necessary. In short, everything I could have been but didn't have the character or ambition to become; he became.

  He didn't marry four times; he married once. For life.

  He didn't go to prison for religious beliefs; he is a Deist without doctrines. He is obviously well off financially, well-insured, straight teeth and no moles or wrinkles can be observed. In short, I am the cocoon and he is the butterfly.

  You should stop reading at this point.

  No, really - you should stop.
  
  

  What comes next is too disturbing and personal for strangers' eyes and unpolluted minds to carry around. Some things can't be understood - and in not understanding them must be expelled in a sneeze of repulsion.

  I warned you. Don't say you weren't warned.

  What follows is the rest of the story…
  
  

  Earlier (above) I said, "I glimpsed my Twin yesterday."

  While true - it is slightly inaccurate. I should have used a more uncommon word: "Yesternight."

  Why? Well, the fact of the matter is - I was sound asleep.

  What occurred actually happened (for real as real can be) in my dream.

  Let me share that experience as it went down…
  
  

  Dreams have a logic of their own detached from the rigid ways "things are" in everyday living.
  THE DREAM

  I entered my motel room during the day and walked straight over to the closet. I had left my wallet in the coat I had intended to wear but changed at the last moment after seeing a stain on the lapel after putting it on and checking the mirror.

  I found the wallet.

  I walked into the bathroom and washed my hands, walked out, and only THEN stopped dead in my tracks.

  What I saw shook me to my core. Gobsmacked, as they say.

  My wife (ex-wife but in the dream, not ex) was nude in the bed with a sheet wrapped around her. Next to her, in bed nude also, was my TWIN BROTHER!

  Let's pause while all that sinks in.

  Okay?

  My wife laughs. She says, "I was wondering if you'd ever notice."

  This struck me like a fist.

  In an indirect way, that phrase had way too much implication and it took the wind out of me. I said nothing by way of response.

  I stood there in the middle of the room, rather stupidly and staring.
  
  

  My wife didn't move or feel uncomfortable and it broke my heart.

  I began crying.

  The abominable Twin put on his pants and shoes and approached me. He took me by the sleeve and guided me outside where we talked.
  
  

  "You just don't get it, do you, Terry?"

  These cold words weren't a question. Not at all. This was a knife-in-the-gut accusation and nothing more. It wasn't even spoken in malice. It was the kind of statement a judge might hand down at the time of sentencing while the prisoner stands quietly listening.

  Anger rose inside me. Indignation triggered my words.

  "No, but apparently you sure did." I gestured with a jerk of my head toward the motel room.
  
  

  We started walking and talking.

  I asked questions. Twin gave matter-of-fact answers priest-like.

  I listened like a three-year-old child.

  What he said next stunned me.

  "I died at birth, you must realize."

  My life gasped!

  "I died and you lived, simple as that. You won't understand this but I'll tell you anyway."

  I just nodded. We walked around the perimeter of the motel. I was too angry to listen - to really listen. I hated him instantaneously. He told me unacceptable things and our circuit ended back at the motel door.

  We parted. I didn't go back inside. How could I?

  Instead, I waited across the street.

  A long, long time I waited.

  Watched. Waited.

  Inside my head, murderous thoughts jumbled.

  Finally, he emerged, and - as I told you (above) I followed him every place he went all day long.

  In my dream, there was only observation and no introspection.

  "Died at birth" means nothing if that person is in bed with your wife and walking around all day!

  This cognitive dissonance woke me up and a flash of awareness, introspection, and accusation struck me all at once. A slam of vivid mystical understanding struck.

  I sat up in my bed with my heart pounding.
  
  

  I was pulling lots of things together like strings attached to balloons so high I'd never reached them before.

  Now they were in reach and I popped them and little messages fell out in front of me. Answers! Answers! Answers!

  A blind man's eyes are opened!

  A dead man is resurrected - if only in one dream.
  
  

  There isn't only ONE of me. Not now - not ever!

  I and He are/is ME.

  The best me and the worst me cheated on each other and I cheated on myself by myself with myself.

  HOW?

  I've lived two lives simultaneously - each out of sight of the other.

  The IDEAL version of me made Straight A's, became an evangelical Christian, went to prison for my faith, became a full-time minister, married, and created a family with stability inside a community of true believers.

  At the same time ...however ...the other me wanted to be a genius, reading the encyclopedia, the Great Books, memorizing poetry, lists of vocabulary words, teaching myself music, becoming an Artist, and showing off how wonderful I was! Notice me and tell me how special I am!!

  A famous Messiah once told us: "No man can serve two Masters."

  But - how many can quote the rest of that homily?

  "...for either he. will hate the one, and love the other; or else. he will hold to the one, and despise the other...")

  My Twin hated me. I hated him - yet secretly, each of us admired and longed to be THE OTHER.

  If anybody died at childbirth it wasn't one OR the other;

  stupefyingly - it was both and neither.
  
  

  After sitting up in my bed, I grabbed my cellphone and texted my ex-wife in the middle of the night.

  The text reads this way:

  "Wow! That was weird!"

  The next day she responded: "Um...okay."

  I texted: "...don't ask!"

  She said: "Well now you've got me curious"

  I texted: "Just don't."

  Her final response: "Lol. Not surprising."
  
  

  You see, she lived with me for 18 years.

  She had all the surprises she needs for the rest of her life.

  ______________

  

  _____
  _____
  _____
  https://docs.google.com/document/d/1M5_esY68hM7D10Gvwx0c_Ic7YSBxP5Wnd3Ah0Vsmg0g/edit?usp=sharing
  
  
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  10

  The story of a renegade anointed

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  remarkable sister pettifog.

  this morning i arrived on my bicycle at the local starbucks early and took up a seat at the outdoor table in the fresh air.. that’s when it happened--a group of 3 older ladies at one of the other tables outside rose to leave and one of them walked over to my table and spoke directly to me.

  i was wearing earbuds at that moment and didn’t hear.

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  Terry

  I can't imagine the emotional reaction anointed members experienced when they were "demoted".
  I had heard for many years that the anointed all over the world sent in "LIGHT" in letters and phone calls since they had their own antennae tuned to the Jehovah frequency.
  
  The GB has never been very good at tact.
  I doubt any anointed became Apostate, but who knows, eh?
• 
  10

  The story of a renegade anointed

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  remarkable sister pettifog.

  this morning i arrived on my bicycle at the local starbucks early and took up a seat at the outdoor table in the fresh air.. that’s when it happened--a group of 3 older ladies at one of the other tables outside rose to leave and one of them walked over to my table and spoke directly to me.

  i was wearing earbuds at that moment and didn’t hear.

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  Terry

  I almost think Pettifog's personal testimony could be taken two opposite ways, which is to say: PRO Org (non-ironic) or sort of like Marc Antony's funeral speech at Caesar's funeral.
  However, the granddaughter's inside information, in private conversations with Mildred, makes it pretty clear that she was fighting "sneaky" with "sneaky" of her own.
  
  " The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:
  If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

  And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it.
  

  Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest–
  

  For Brutus is an honourable man;
  

  So are they all, all honourable men–"
• 
  10

  The story of a renegade anointed

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  remarkable sister pettifog.

  this morning i arrived on my bicycle at the local starbucks early and took up a seat at the outdoor table in the fresh air.. that’s when it happened--a group of 3 older ladies at one of the other tables outside rose to leave and one of them walked over to my table and spoke directly to me.

  i was wearing earbuds at that moment and didn’t hear.

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  Terry

  Me too. Each time I reprint it- I edit it. One day it will be down to a readable length.
  Thank you.
• 
  10

  The story of a renegade anointed

  by Terry in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  remarkable sister pettifog.

  this morning i arrived on my bicycle at the local starbucks early and took up a seat at the outdoor table in the fresh air.. that’s when it happened--a group of 3 older ladies at one of the other tables outside rose to leave and one of them walked over to my table and spoke directly to me.

  i was wearing earbuds at that moment and didn’t hear.

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  Terry

  Remarkable Sister Pettifog

  ________

  This morning I arrived on my bicycle at the local Starbucks early and took up a seat at the outdoor table in the fresh air.

  That’s when it happened--a group of 3 older ladies at one of the other tables outside rose to leave and one of them walked over to my table and spoke directly to me.
  I was wearing earbuds at that moment and didn’t hear. I popped them out and asked her to repeat herself.

  “That’s a beautiful bicycle you have there. What a great way to stay healthy!”

  I thanked her and idly chatted about this and that.

  As I spoke, I could see she was scrutinizing my face like a private investigator rummaging for clues. The analytical part of my brain went on alert at that instant. What was she doing?

  “I think I know you. It’s been a long, long time ago when last I saw you. I don’t expect you’d remember me but I remember you because my great grandmother use to tell me how much you reminded her of her favorite movie star, Randolph Scott.”

  Straightaway, I put 2+2 together! I knew exactly who she was talking about--after all, nobody else in the whole world had ever said I looked like Randolph Scott but one lady!

  “You’re talking about **Mildred Pettifog, aren’t you?”

  This lady about fell over when I pulled that rabbit out of the hat!

  “How in the world--I mean--that’s impossible you should say that. How--how do you know that?”

  I explained the instant connection and invited her to sit. I could see she wanted to talk.

  She was probably in her 50s but who can really tell, right? She was jovial, keen-eyed, and pleasant. All the while I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  We swapped gossipy tidbits for a while about the Knorr Era Kingdom Hall folks
  until she was just about ready to leave. Then she stopped and gazed out into the past and dredged up a memory to relate to me.
  After I finished listening - well - I sort of sat dumb with my jaw hanging down.
  This pleasant lady told me a little story about Sister **Pettifog, her great grandmother.

  ___________________Backstory

  The first time I encountered Mildred Pettifog she was a full-time Pioneer knocking on strangers’ doors. (“Pioneer” means engaged in a door-to-door neighborhood ministry to achieve one hundred plus hours each month as a required ministerial quota.)

  
  Yes, she was one of Jehovah’s Witnesses and had been brought up as a Bible Student since the late 19th century.
  In case that means nothing to you, think of it this way, the Civil War was fought 15 years before Mildred was born.

  By the time I was introduced to her (1960), Sister Pettifog was already 80.

  Way back in 1960, when I first attended a Kingdom Hall as a guest, old ladies looked like old ladies. No Botox, facelifts, etc. White hair was quite acceptable.

  Sister Pettifog sported a little purple hat pinned to the back of her head by a long hatpin with an improbably large pearl on its end about the size of a robin’s egg. Her hair was mostly silver-white tinged with a faint blue tint.

  This elderly Sister flashed a crinkled smile and possessed large brown eyes like a puppy in a pet store window eager for adoption. Her skin was quite pale and her cheeks radiated a pinkish powder blush but were a proper style back in the olden days. Once seen, Sister Pettifog was not soon forgotten!

  Her dress appeared to be colorfully modest, hand-made on an old Singer sewing machine with prudently selected patterns from the local fabric shop. The steel-rimmed bifocals framed her wide-set eyes perfectly and bestowed an impression of quiet intelligence and wisdom.

  Although everybody who met Sister Mildred loved her instantly, the effect of her Jungle Gardenia perfume was devastating- tossing people’s nostrils hither and thither in pandemonium!

  The most remarkable aspect of Mildred Pettifog’s persona was the fact she was one of the anointed members at our Kingdom Hall.
  (At the time, it was special - very special...and mysterious.)

  What did it actually mean to be “anointed”? I wanted to know.

  Sister Pettifog had what was “a heavenly calling.”

  
  The vast majority of JW’s aim for an “Earthly hope.” Life everlasting in a new Eden.
  Scant few possess the interior tingle of a special self-awareness.
  If you’ve never been a Jehovah’s Witness, you’ll be scratching your head about now wondering aloud just how cuckoo this might be.

  Don’t worry about that right now, suffice it to say Mildred Pettifog was a rare individual viewed with almost “magical” specialness (although no JW would ever employ the word “magic.”)

  Until fairly recently, the eight million Jehovah’s Witnesses all over the world were under the impression the “anointed” got direct messages from the heavenly realm tipping them off about sacred secrets and advanced prophetic divination. These whisperings were better than stock market tips! (Although none has ever paid off).

  Certainly, this was the case when I was introduced on that first visit.
  The person introducing me spoke in a sudden and respectful hushed tone of awe in their voice as Mildred’s name was intoned.
  This created a funny feeling inside of me too. The psychology of awe is quite contagious! Sort of like, “Ya wanna meet Elvis?”

  ****

  Now you may be wondering why I’m telling you all this about one little old lady, right? Fair enough. Just hang in there - you’ll soon discover why.

  Let’s begin . . .

  ________________ORIGIN STORY

  Before I met my future best friend Johnny, he had gone through a sudden ‘conversion experience’ after a conversation with Mildred Pettifog.
  He was only 9 years old at that time.

  Sister Pettifog knocked on the door and Johnny’s mother Jenny answered.
  
  Much to his surprise and horror, Jenny started cussing out the old lady and slammed the door in her face after only a few moments of discussion of the Bible!

  Johnny felt his world crash about him.
  After all, Jenny was NOT that kind of person. She was a charming, affable, and genuinely kind woman. Why had she been so vulgar and rude to the old lady?

  (Johnny told me the whole story many decades afterward.) Now I tell you.

  Johnny’s parents moved to Fort Worth from South Texas and dressed up special to go to the nearby Baptist Church for the first time taking all their kids with them (Johnny, Judy, JoAnn, Vicki).
  Upon arrival, the Pastor of the all-white church pulled them aside and not-too-politely instructed them to go to the “Mexican” Baptist Church three miles distant.
  Why?
  “You folks will feel more comfortable there.”

  Johnny’s father was from a Spanish family and his skin was deep-hued in an era in which race relations in the South were testy, judgmental, and volatile.

  Following this stinging and hurtful embarrassing rejection, Jenny and Steve disavowed church in a fit of righteous indignation, nursing their tender feelings self-isolated from the fellowship of any sort.

  The arrival of Sister Pettifog at the door that day was ill-timed at the “worst possible” moment for raw emotions triggering an unfortunate outburst from Jenny Santa Cruz.

  9-year-old Johnny ran after the old lady and apologized to her for his mother’s tantrum and insults.
  Sister Pettifog was jovial and forgiving.
  She invited Johnny to sit with her once a week for a private Bible study. He leaped at the offer being of an especially open and intelligent frame of mind given to a natural curiosity about the Divine.
  So powerful was the teaching and personality of Sister Pettifog, in no time at all she was studying with the rest of Johnny’s family, overcoming all objections, answering questions, and amazing them with her uncanny grasp of all the spiritual secrets of the Almighty Jehovah!

  The upshot of this incident will now make more sense to you with this background in place. You see, Johnny became my best friend some 3 years after that incident and he began bombarding me with religious conversation from day one.
  A kind of apostle of Pettifoggery.
  
  When I attended the local Kingdom Hall with him my first time, it was fated to be my first meeting with Johnny’s favorite person in all the world Sister Pettifog!
  It was Johnny’s tone of hushed awe which made my spine tingle when Sister Pettifog took my hand and told me, “You remind me of my favorite movie actor, Randolph Scott!”

  _____________BACK TO OUR STORY

  We’ve now squared the circle on all the background, haven’t we?
  Yes, I think so.
  I became a Jehovah’s Witness 3 years later in 1963.
  
  Four years later, I was sentenced to possibly 6 years in Federal Prison on a religious belief during the Vietnam War.
  Johnny had one eye and flat feet - no prison required.
  He married in 1967, the same year I went to Seagoville Federal prison.
  I was paroled in 1969 and 5 months later - I married Johnny’s sister, JoAnn.

  At this point, I’ll try my best to give you the story as told to me by the great-granddaughter of Mildred Pettifog.

  ________PETTIFOG goes rogue?
  
  

  “The first time my great grandmother said one bad thing about the WatchTower organization I thought I was going to have a heart attack! It was like a bomb went off in my head! Granny Mildred is the one person most able to turn a Bible study into a Baptism. She had a way about her. She was not just the best; she was the best of the best.
  Truth as published by the WatchTower organization had a way of suddenly flipping the script and Granny Mildred noticed it and used the word, “Sneaky.”

  This shocked me. I didn’t believe my ears.
  I asked her to explain. When I heard what she had to say, I wished I hadn’t!
  
  She stood there in the kitchen helping me wash dishes like she always insisted on doing and at the same time started ticking off a long list of “sneaky” things she claimed the Organization had done over the years to prove they were “making stuff up.”
  
  I kept telling her not to continue. I was panicking! I immediately thought of rushing her to the hospital. It was obvious to me--or so I thought--she had suffered a stroke and wasn’t responsible for her words!”

  “A year passed with these embarrassing conversations (private as they were). We moved to Oklahoma and started going to a new Kingdom Hall. All the while, she kept going to all the meetings and out in Field Service, (door to door,) like nothing inside her had changed. I asked her how she could pretend what she was learning and teaching was still “The Truth”?

  “Granny smiled and explained that her ‘anointing’ could do a whole lot more good ‘undercover’ than as an Apostate because nobody was allowed to listen to an ex-member. But everybody would listen to her as one of the anointed remnant!”

  At this point in her story, I was begging for details.
  Granddaughter glanced at her watch. She had to go shortly but she said she’d tell me this one thing Granny did when she was around young Witnesses. The teens.

  Sister Mildred Pettifog would wait until she was in the car with a trapped audience who couldn’t flee. Then she’d start talking about her life as a Jehovah’s Witness. . . .

  ____PETTIFOGG’S HISTORY from her own testimony

  "I stay faithful to the Organization!
  I knew I was going to heaven no matter what the Governing Body decided was true!
  Right or wrong. Where else would I go?
  I didn’t graduate from High School or go to college when I was young because Armageddon was coming in 1914--what good would a worldly education do me?
  Pastor Russell said what Jehovah told him and it didn’t happen the way he told it.
  Was it a mistake? A human opinion? Wrong is wrong. But we believed it and we were surprised, sad, and many of our Friends declared it a ‘false prophecy’ and left the Organization. Not me."
  
  "Pastor Russell took a wait-and-see attitude but he died and Brother Rutherford told us 1925 was the year it would all go down. Another mistake, or human opinion, but Jehovah’s anointed remained faithful to the organization.
  The Bible says “No man knows the day and hour.” That didn’t stop Brother Franz and Brother Knorr from 1975, however.
  It was exactly the same thing taught in 1874, moved forward a hundred years.
  Yes, 1874, 1914, 1925, 1975. We all went along preaching it as ‘Truth’ even though it was men’s opinions, wrong guesses, and the anointed slave assuring us we are a spirit-directed organization. Who am I to say they are wrong - until the date comes and goes? I remained faithful to the Organization."
  
  "I am in my 90’s knowing we, the anointed, were dying off.
  We are the anointed Generation of 1914 and have to still be alive to SEE the end.
  Our lives were used as the Countdown Clock. We are part of the MILLIONS NOW LIVING who will NEVER DIE. Do you understand? Why would we leave an organization that gives us this heavenly assurance?"
  
  "Each year, more of us anointed die and it assures and proves Armageddon is getting closer and closer. What fool would risk leaving with such assurance?
  Now I’m 98 years old. I was 95 the last time Armageddon didn’t come. Do you understand? It is now 1977. 3 years ago we were taught the world was ending because of Earthquakes, famine, and wars, and IT DIDN’T HAPPEN.
  Many have gone away now. They lost faith in Jehovah’s Organization.
  But, not me! I’m faithful and loyal to the bitter end.”

  ________

  Mildred Pettifog’s granddaughter shook her head in wonderment at the words she related and added, “How she got away with that--I just don’t know. You could see the young kids’ faces. They didn’t know if she had lost her mind or what!”
  
  If a young person were of college age, she went out of her way to talk to them.
  She’d get them off by themselves and say: “I never got a proper education because the world was ending. It ended over and over and over.”

  “I have friends who never married because of that, too. They have no kids or grandkids because we were assured we’d all be in heaven or Paradise. Many people now are old, bitter, and unhealthy thinking they never lived a real-life - just waiting around for Armageddon.
  Not me. I went ahead and married and I had beautiful kids and grandkids. I’m anointed too - and Jehovah’s spirit allowed me the freedom to have a life.
  Well, I am sorry I didn’t go to college. I could have earned enough money to give my children and grandchildren a start in life. But don’t listen to me. I’m just a grumpy old lady and my mind isn’t as clear as it used to be. You better do exactly what the Organization tells you to do.”

  Then Granny would walk away leaving those young JW’s with a dazzled expression of pure horror and puzzlement behind.

  _________

  I asked the granddaughter if any Elders ever gave her a good stern talking to?

  “Oh for heaven’s sakes! Are you serious? Granny was too slick for that!
  She knew her scriptures and she’d start quoting them one after another until the busybody would shrug and give up. You see, she knew they had too much respect for her to get mean--as they do with most members who have loose tongues.”

  I asked what happened to Sister Pettifog.

  “Granny died peacefully in her sleep 10 days before her hundredth birthday.
  She had written a long letter to be read to the congregation at her funeral.
  She mailed it to the Presiding Elder and a copy to WatchTower headquarters a few days before she died. Do I need to tell you, that letter disappeared and was never read or mentioned by anybody?
  
  I was asked if I knew anything I needed to tell--about Sister Pettifog’s state of mind.
  
  I told them she had only grown more loving, kind, cheerful, and open-hearted the older she got. I told them what she had said about loyalty to Jehovah’s Organization, too. They didn’t seem to catch the irony.”

  It was time for the granddaughter to leave. I thanked her for stopping to talk to me.
  As an afterthought, I asked one more question.
  
  “Did any of that weaken your faith?”
  
  She smiled as she climbed into her car and told me her answer:
  “The day after her funeral I walked away and haven’t been back to a meeting since then. Nice talking to you, Randolph.”
  Away she drove.

  _________________AFTER THOUGHTS

  Pettifog was directly responsible for my best friend Johnny’s captivation by Jehovah’s Witnesses. Johnny, in turn, was responsible for my interest leading to my eventual imprisonment later on during the Vietnam War.
  I was a Pioneer who held many Bible studies leading to baptisms and new members.

  I’d love to know how many young people she spoke to whose minds were changed toward and away - inspired or awakened by her cunning testimony?

  She truly was a Remarkable Sister Pettifog!

  _________________

  Terry Walstrom

  **Note: I have changed the name to avoid tampering with people’s memory of her.
  Removing and substituting the name Pettifog is a writer’s gimmick. You see, in the mid-16th Century, a lawyer who made endless objections was known as a Pettifog.
  If you think you know the identity but aren’t sure - I’ll give a hint. Her nickname was “Boots.” She was in the Poly Congregation in Ft. Worth, Texas

  _________________