Hi Greg,
Something you said in your response to Frank's story made me think of another person I haven't thought about in a long time: Dean Pittman. Before I went to Bethel, I thought that the literature offers that appeared in the Kingdom Ministry were somehow tied into Jehovah's "master plan" to warn the nations just before the end came. I had heard statements to that effect, that this particular piece of literature, or this particular article, came just at the right time to accomplish His purpose.
When I became Pressroom Overseer, I met Dean Pittman. Dean didn't like the limelight. Even when I was Assistant Pressroom Overseer, I never even knew who he was. But Dean was the Society's master planner for printing and literature inventory. He also planned the literature campaigns around the need to "move the old inventory". I always thought that Dean was a good man. He wore thick glasses and spoke with a Southern accent that was even thicker. Dean and I got along famously. Maybe it was because I was so different from Richard Wheelock, my predecessor. He and I would sit down every six weeks or so and plan the next months' print runs. He had a big spreadsheet (made by hand, no computer spreadsheets in the late 70s) and we would go over the paper inventory, and plan the printing and binding, and talk about the literature stocks in the warehouse. Then at the end of each session, he would work out the offers to be published in the KM.
About the time the GB Committees were forming, the "Man's Salvation" book was in its first printing. Freddy had his interpretation of one of Jesus' parables, maybe the one about the mustard seed. He wrote the book, so he put his interpretation into the manuscript and that is how the book went to press for the first printing (the convention release). Evidently, someone or ones there had some sort of opposite opinion, for the GB discussed it and decided to overrule Freddy. I believe that was the first time something like that had happened. Whatever the case, in the second printing of the book, (only a month or so later, following the usual pattern for convention releases), the interpretation was entirely different. I don't remember the specific character represented, but in one view the character represented Jesus Christ, in the other it was Satan the Devil, so it was not a minor adjustment.
The first printing had been large, but only the second and subsequent printings were sent to the field. Poor Dean Pittman put the first printing on the offer list for a couple of years, but he couldn't move 'em. I think they ended up giving them away for some pittance, like three out-of-date (or is it dimmer light?) books for a quarter, when they were still selling them. There may still be some of those darned books from the first printing in cartons at 30 CH, who knows?
Tom
Tom Cabeen
JoinedPosts by Tom Cabeen
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Warren Schroeder from Bethel on Freddy, Kline and the apostate books!
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Tom Cabeen
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Warren Schroeder from Bethel on Freddy, Kline and the apostate books!
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Tom Cabeen
Hi Frank,
I remember that story from when we talked a lot in the mid 1990s. Sadly, there were so many stories just like it. I now know how blessed I was to be in the Pressroom, where output was measurable and as long as we put out, we were pretty much left alone. I met some fine men there, and I will always love and respect them, wherever they ended up. It wasn't until long after I left that I began to see how divisive that whole organization is. You have so capably pointed out the reason why: the men in charge are exactly the same way themselves. No wonder so many of their decisions about the poor bros & sis's in the field are so uncaring!
The caption under Klein's picture ought to read: "Jesus said, 'Take; eat." I say: 'Don't you dare touch it!"
Thanks for sharing.
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Warren Schroeder from Bethel on Freddy, Kline and the apostate books!
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Eliveleth,
It is so nice to see these pictures of Fred. He served with my dad, Bill Cabeen, in the Spanish Circuit work in the early 1970s (he was District Overseer), then he and Maggie came to Brooklyn Bethel. Fred took me under his wing, and gave me lots of good advice about Bethel and spiritual matters, and Maggie helped me sort out my relationships with the sisters in my congregation.
Fred and I spent lots of time together after Maggie left. Then Fred left and later married Jeanne. I believe Ray and Cynthia introduced them. We visited the Virgin Islands with Fred and Jeanne and Ray and Cynthia in the late 1970s. What a lot of laughs that trip was!
When they moved to Mobile, Gloria and I and the boys went to visit them there. Then, a few years later, when Fred was so sick, I went back and spent a few days with them. I returned home only a day or two before Fred died. I was so glad I was able to talk to him, play the guitar and sing Tex-Mex songs for him, take him for a ride around in the car and even laugh a little.
Thanks so much for reminding me of a dear friend whom I miss very much.
Tom -
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Warren Schroeder from Bethel on Freddy, Kline and the apostate books!
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Hey Randy,
Ciro is still there, to my knowledge. His biggest claim to fame was his being the Society's liaison with the UN on the NGO debacle. I think his name was on the paperwork. He married Lolly Knocke (not positive about spelling; pronounced ku NO kee), a very sweet young lady who came to Bethel about the same time as my wife and is either a month younger or a month older, don't remember. Gloria and I knew Lolly pretty well and did some things with her before they were married, less after they were married. Ciro used to G-job giving piano lessons, as he was musical. If he would give you a note, he would write musical notes on it. I think he has been in Writing for some time now.
I think you have or had one of his talks on freeminds where he was explaining how the end was ever so close, back around the turn of the millennium. Must be even closer now, doncha know.
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Warren Schroeder from Bethel on Freddy, Kline and the apostate books!
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Hey Bob,
Your post reminded me of that old van of Petrie's. I had forgotten all about it. One weekend Gloria and I borrowed it so that we and a couple of Pressroom guys could visit some former Bethelite friends who lived in Monroe, CT. It was about 50 degrees F on Friday night and raining as we slogged our way through rush hour traffic. A severe cold front was following us as we drove up, so it kept getting colder and colder as we drove. By the time we got to Monroe, maybe two hours later, it was below freezing and snowing. By midnight, the temperature had dropped to about 10 degrees F, where it stayed all weekend. We had a wonderful visit with our friends (we never went to meetings when we were on a "vacation" weekend).
On Sunday evening, as we were getting ready to return home, I went out to start the van and warm it up. To my dismay, I discovered that the darned van was frozen solid! Not only wouldn't the engine even turn over, the van wouldn't even roll! My friend Steve had to push the van out of the parking spot with his new truck. He pushed me down the frozen back road he lived on. I had put it in gear and was going to let the clutch out to start the motor. The first couple of times, the back wheels just skidded-they wouldn't even turn when I let the clutch out, it was so frozen. Finally, it started.
I let it run as we loaded up the stuff in the van. On the way home, we noticed that not only did the van not have a heater, it had more holes in the front of it than a Swiss cheese. It had warmed up outside to about 20 degrees F, but it seemed colder than that inside the van, not to mention that the windows kept fogging up something terrible, since we had no defroster. I had asked them to try to hold their breath until we got back to Brooklyn, so I could see through the windshield, but everyone inside kept stubbornly insisting that they had to breathe. ;-)
Good thing the traffic was heavy enough that we did not have to drive very fast. But it was a long ride home, and we were all half frozen by the time we got back to Bethel. It's funny now, but I had some choice words the next day for Peach for not telling me that the van had no heater.
Ah, the good old days, when a dollar was a dollar--and that was all we had!
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OK Randy, about money...
I was one of those (evidently in the minority) who actually got along on what the Society gave Bethelites. Shortly after I came to Bethel, my parents went into the Circuit work, so they had nothing to send. Later, after we got married, Gloria's folks also didn't have any extra cash. Maybe two or three times they sent us $10. Also, being the obedient type, I didn't G-job, except for one time, which I will now tell you about.
My roommate (and best friend at the time) was Steve White, overseer of the Electric Shop in the factory. He got a job installing wiring a Kingdom Hall in the Bronx for A/C. (It is still there. You can see it if you look up when you get onto the Cross Bronx Expressway traveling south on I-95.) It was summer, of course, and it was hot. He supplied the brains, I supplied the grunt work. We worked our butts off for a very long weekend on the project, and made $250, a small fortune to a Bethelite in the late 1960s.
We hadn't been paid for the job yet, when Steve decided he had to run to Manhattan to pick up something for the electric shop from an electrical supply company there, rather than submit a requisition and wait for Purchasing to deliver the thing. So he took one of the Society's cars and went to lower Manhattan. He couldn't find a place to park, and he was "only going to be a minute or two", so he took the chance and double parked with the flashers on. Of course, the ever-vigilant New York's Finest ticketed him and had his car towed away. The rest of the day and night was a nightmare that did not end until, like the unforgiving slave of Jesus parable, Steve had "paid the very last penny." Getting the Society's car back, including the ticket, towing fee and parking charge on the DOT towaway lot cost him exactly $250.
That was my first and last G-job, as I was too busy with other "legitimate" Society work. But I remember many months when Gloria and I had less than a dollar to our name by then end of the month.
Tom
PS for the uninitiated, the G in G-job means "Government". I am not sure where that came from, but Richard Wheelock told me that. I would be interested in how outside work got that name. -
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Warren Schroeder from Bethel on Freddy, Kline and the apostate books!
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Ok, here is another HD story which Gloria reminded me of. I had completely forgotten it.
Rick Hudson was a very funny guy who set at our table. He worked in composition. He was prematurely bald on top, but had plenty of hair on the sides. Ricky was always trying to do something funny. One day he went to the barber for a haircut and on a whim asked the barber to style his hair like Bozo the Clown. The barber did it, making the hair stick out over his ears on the sides. He went back to his department, expecting all the guys to say "Hey Bozo", but instead, they said, "Harold Dies!" Needless to say, Ricky quickly combed it back normal.
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Warren Schroeder from Bethel on Freddy, Kline and the apostate books!
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Oh, no, Watters! You've done it again!! You've gone and made me remember a story about Harold Dies...
When I was a new boy, green as grass, I was assigned to the King's County Congregation (the "other one" that met in the Bethel Kingdom Hall besides the Brooklyn Heights congregation). On one particularly hot and sultry summer night at the end of the service meeting the Congregation Servant (Harold Dies) stood up to make an announcement. His face was serious and we all knew that what was coming would not be pleasant. He looked around, slowly opened a large manila envelope, pulled some materials from it, and laid them on the podium. He picked up a poster and held it up for all to see. It had a drawing of a rather obscure cartoon character and the words "Dick Dastardly" under it. It also had Harold's name in large letters at the bottom. I had seen the ads on the back of the Cheerios boxes at breakfast. You could send in maybe a buck and a few box tops, fill out a form and get a personalized poster, membership card, and some other junk, possibly a decoder ring and some other stuff like that.
Harold explained the terrible act that had been committed by some...dare I use the word..."dastardly" Bethelite. Someone had evidently filled out his name on the form and now he, Harold Dies, Congregation Servant had his own name--imagine that--on a Dick Dastardly poster! He got out a dictionary and read the definition of "dastardly" to the congregation and followed it up with a mini-service talk about how terrible it is to imply that someone was a fan of someone named Dick Dastardly! He spoke of the need for respect for Jehovah and his Servants. On and on it went. The outrage! The shame!
I was seated in about the middle of the Hall, and as I listened, I could hear sounds a row or two behind me: the unmistakable sound of suppressed laughter, punctuated by the very slight choking sounds made by someone who was on the verge of losing control. As the talk went on, the sounds began spreading. I was terrified that I might be the one who would lose control. If I did, who knows what punishment might be in store for me? I bit my lip and put my head down, as if in silent prayer for the repentance of the beastly cads who would do such a thing.
I could never figure out why a guy like Harold, in charge of something having to do with the Society's finances, would apparently be so dense as to not realize that if he had just thrown the stuff away as soon as he got it, the guy(s) who sent it would never have even known whether or not he got it. But as it was, he maximized their investment. Doubtless few Bethelites in history ever got so much entertainment out of one dollar. Thank you, Harold!
Ah, the good old days...
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Hi Warren,
Have no idea where the Pakes ended up. I lost touch with them when we left Bethel. I heard some news about them several years ago through Jennifer Treece, (a long-time friend and my wife on "All Scripture is Beneficial", a radio show we made during the 70s). Jen and her brother Jim, who was also at Bethel, were from California. I think Jim ran the hand bindery, as I recall. Jen was also a dear friend of Wynne's.
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Quandry,
Thanks so much for your kind words. You write "One of the first posts I ever read on this forum was from a disfellowshipped woman who was told by the congregation that she was responsible for caring for her aged mother after being shunned for so many years her mother was a virtual stranger to her. Her mother had dementia, so there could be no relationship to resume, leaving the woman very bitter, and deservedly so."
I have almost the exact same situation, but I do not share her bitterness. I do have sadness for what we and she missed. But no bitterness. My release came as a result of forgiving her and all the people who wittingly or unwittingly (I can't figure out which) created this horrible situation. I had to forgive in order to move on. That does not mean that they won, if we forgive. We are the ones who win, for we are released from the pain when we forgive. Otherwise, we force ourselves to live the hurt again and again, on and on, like a person who is badly cut in a robbery, and then every day she cuts the wound open again, keeping the memory of the robbery alive and experiencing the pain over and over again. Meanwhile, the robber goes his merry way, spending her hard earned cash easily and never giving her a second thought.
I do not know all the things that motivated my mom to shun me, but I know that she loved me. It was probably harder for her to shun me than it was for me to be shunned. So I have forgiven all, and now I love her without guilt and without pain.
Once again, thanks for caring.
Tom