TheWonderofYou: JOE RAY PRUETT, SR., former owner of Pruett's T.V. Repair, passed away at his home on September 15, 2004
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Oh fer Crissakes!
That sucks. This time I'm just more angry than anything.
THANK YOU for finding this.
Joe was my first friend inside Seagoville. He went out of his way to make me feel like I had solidarity with others.
Joe had a terrific sense of humor. He spoke fast and was a bit of cut-up.
He was paroled 6 months before I was.
When I was paroled, I had a LIST with all the Brothers names and addresses I took with me.
My mother ended up throwing it away. (Gr-r-r-r-r)
I've searched for him time and again to no avail.
I'm going to try and contact this family and simply ask (just to make certain) if Joe had been an inmate in Seagoville.
Huge sigh.
What a stab in the heart. Another one gone forever.
TerryWalstrom
JoinedPosts by TerryWalstrom
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Another JW "friend" bites the dust
by TerryWalstrom injust got word one of my favorite friends died a year ago!
only now have i heard about it.
he remained a devout jehovah's witness--so--he could not/would not speak to me.
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TerryWalstrom
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This Morning’s Narrow Escape from a Serial Killer
by TerryWalstrom inthis morning’s narrow escape from a serial killer.
8:00 am: i leave the house.
my aim is 10,000 steps.
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TerryWalstrom
The events actually happened. I account for those.
What I'm still wondering I can list.
1. Why did I feel the overwhelming urge to look behind me?
2. Why would a floral delivery guy go down such a treacherous (for a vehicle) pathway? It was obvious there were no streets or houses nearby.
3. Why didn't he honk his horn earlier rather than creeping up so close?
4. What if I had NOT turned around when I did?
5. Let's just say (speculatively) if he were intending sneaky harm...When I suddenly turned around and he knew he had no longer any chance of surprise...maybe he wondered if I had his license plate number and THAT's WHY he doubled back: to create a plausible deniability of ill-intent. His alibi.
Or--I'm just nuts:) -
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This Morning’s Narrow Escape from a Serial Killer
by TerryWalstrom inthis morning’s narrow escape from a serial killer.
8:00 am: i leave the house.
my aim is 10,000 steps.
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TerryWalstrom
All my ridiculous emotions were indeed futile!
It's not unlike seeing your garden hose in the corner of your eye and screaming, "SNAKE!"
I watch too much TV, obviously. -
4
This Morning’s Narrow Escape from a Serial Killer
by TerryWalstrom inthis morning’s narrow escape from a serial killer.
8:00 am: i leave the house.
my aim is 10,000 steps.
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TerryWalstrom
This Morning’s Narrow Escape from a Serial Killer
8:00 AM: I leave the house.
My aim is 10,000 steps. A morning stroll, if you will.
Its purpose is stamina building for my London vacation in September.
My earbuds blare Elliot Goldenthal: TITUS.I change my route each morning, ever increasing the distance.
I bore easily, so I take a completely different route on a whim.
MY FIRST MISTAKE!
______The access on-ramp to the Freeway on my left signals the end of a paved surface for my walk. For about 500 paces a crude asphalt surface replaces the concrete.
What follows is now a dirt path and a rural countrified slog through a wooded path.
I’m isolated as I trudge, engrossed in the music's crescendo after crescendo of stentorian brass. (Stentorian? Define: loud and powerful.)I can see there is a slope downward surrounded by grassy snake country and a nasty drainpipe spilling rainwater runoff plus creepy ooze is just ahead. At about that point, the hackles on my neck rise!
(Hackles? Definition: erectile hairs along the back of a dog or other animal that rise when it is angry or alarmed.)
Why am I alarmed?
Instinctively, I pivot front to back and---FREEZE!______
Not 12 paces behind me--out of nowhere--is a dirty white van. The motor is running.
It has clearly been stalking me!
This is inhospitably rough road no “sane” person would elect to drive upon for ANY reason.I’m facing East and the sun stabs blinding shafts through the trees surrounding the scene.
I squinted hard.
The driver is staring at me!
He is wearing absurd, round-rimmed “Mr. Moto” black-rimmed spectacles.
His shoulders are hunched as though he were a race driver about to swerve into a hairpin turn. His skin is eerily pale and the expression on his unearthly face is baleful. (Baleful? Definition: threatening harm; menacing).I yanked the earbuds out and took a sharp breath.
Clearly, my nemesis HATES me!
My brain races.
“Data please,” I scream internally at my Fight or Flight Instinct Department.
My right-hand makes a swift gesture and I remove my pocket knife, flicking it open like a scene from BLACKBOARD JUNGLE.
I’ll not go without a fight!
My best threatening stance instantly spooks the serial killer and he begins slowly backing the van without haste--deliberate, taunting, cat and mousing me as he continues to stare directly into my wide eyes.
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As he reaches the asphalt, I hear the stick shift catch and the ugly van does a stuntman on steroid whirl-about in a 180 maneuver.
Here one minute--gone the next!
I say to myself out loud:
“That could have been my epitaph: Here one minute--gone the next.”______
I become more self-aware at this moment... feel my heart pounding and fast panting breath--as though I’d been sprinting uphill all this time.
I calm myself and the rational side of Terry’s brain kicks in.
I take a deep breath and head back the way I’d come.MY SECOND MISTAKE!
_____Internal dialogue: I begin joking with my girly-man side.
That’s my rational side. I was in no danger at all and had over-reacted.
I had just about convinced myself I had a silly and melodramatic imagination when
straightaway ---HERE HE COMES!WTF?!
The van had circled back on surface roads and was thundering down the access road on the right-hand side WHERE I WAS WALKING!
The painfully bright sunshine was blinding me--but--I readied myself to pull off a sideways leap into a neighbor’s driveway like Burt Reynolds in NAVAJO JOE.If I leaped too soon, the fierce predator could swerve and catch me! He’d fall upon me and pierce my neck with his hypodermic filled with animal trank and stuff me in the van heading for the murky ooze of that drainpipe (where he probably stuffs all his victims after torture and taunt has slaked his bestial urges!)
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Now, at the climax of this heinous encounter--
I MADE MY THIRD MISTAKE!____
The van suddenly slowed as the window rolled down.
The little white-haired, albino Floral Delivery guy with thick Mr. Moto glasses shouted at me:“I can’t find Scruggs Park Drive--where the F**K is it? I’ve got two dozen Marigolds to deliver before Nine.”
Gosh. Do I feel stupid--or what?
I gulped and replaced my stabbing knife in my pocket, fake-grinned sheepishly as I directed him to his delivery spot.“Thanks.” He roared off and left me in a smothering cloud of carbon monoxide.
Well--what can I say?
Carbon monoxide is deadly; so--technically he DID sorta try to kill me.
A little.
Or not.__________
(A true story: according to me) -
24
Another JW "friend" bites the dust
by TerryWalstrom injust got word one of my favorite friends died a year ago!
only now have i heard about it.
he remained a devout jehovah's witness--so--he could not/would not speak to me.
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TerryWalstrom
As I near the end of my earthly course (I couldn't help myself--I had to use that JW-speak for fun)--I realize two things.
1. If we want to reclaim a friend and do nothing--we lose them absolutely. (I tried, but should have tried again.)
2. Once a person is gone the opportunity (however difficult) is done.
Death's FINALITY is the part that eats away at your heart. -
24
Another JW "friend" bites the dust
by TerryWalstrom injust got word one of my favorite friends died a year ago!
only now have i heard about it.
he remained a devout jehovah's witness--so--he could not/would not speak to me.
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TerryWalstrom
DIOGENESISTER: Would you like me to ask on Reddit if anyone knows these fellow friends of yours? It has a large active readership - over 20,000
Me: That would be wonderful--thank you! -
24
Another JW "friend" bites the dust
by TerryWalstrom injust got word one of my favorite friends died a year ago!
only now have i heard about it.
he remained a devout jehovah's witness--so--he could not/would not speak to me.
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TerryWalstrom
Tollie taught us all (in prison) to go back and read the early books from Russell and Rutherford. That area of JW "knowledge" was an abyss. Almost nobody (except the elderly) had an inkling of the upheavals in the early years.
Tollie intellectualized all the flaws. His intelligence worked against him in that respect. He could think up a way Jehovah's spirit could be guiding events.
Rutherford was a raw material and just the kind of Old Testament judge to fight through the war years and prevail--so he thought. Russell and Rutherford were seen as less than perfect sinners molded and shaped to accomplish a task.
"David was beloved of God and he stole a man's wife and sent the guy off to die." Jehovah uses the worst of us to accomplish the best."
Delusional but inspiring :)
JW history, through Tollie's eyes. was a shaping from raw materials and an incremental cause and effect process of cleansing.
Tolli saw tests of Faith as a way we get to know what we're made of.
Some of us were born to fail and die at Armageddon. By testing your devotion and dedication and Love for Jah--you discovered whether you were a "vessel fit for destruction" or a worthy vessel.
On the one hand, I admire that ingenious stupidity. On the other hand, I sure would love to have re-bonded over the duration of his last years.
I'm still looking for two other very close prison Brothers and I can't seem to find. (The ones I did locate were dead.)
Ron Clayton from Oklahoma and Joe Pruitt. I think he too was previously in El Reno prison and transferred to Seagoville from Oklahoma.
Here's what makes it difficult. These guys would be about my age (71).
How many folks that age are technophobes?
Plenty. So--the chances of them surfing the Worldwide Web are slim to none--or--of them having an electronic "footprint" I can follow.
If you know either of them--Please let me know. It's never too late unless they've planted you in the garden. -
24
Another JW "friend" bites the dust
by TerryWalstrom injust got word one of my favorite friends died a year ago!
only now have i heard about it.
he remained a devout jehovah's witness--so--he could not/would not speak to me.
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TerryWalstrom
I said the same thing before. I lost him before I lost him.
I get a double-whammy.
The families at JW funerals very seldom weep.
In fact--it's used as a platform for recruiting and giving a campaign speech.
At least, when I mourn a dead JW, I know (one way or the other) I"m never going to see them again. -
24
Another JW "friend" bites the dust
by TerryWalstrom injust got word one of my favorite friends died a year ago!
only now have i heard about it.
he remained a devout jehovah's witness--so--he could not/would not speak to me.
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TerryWalstrom
Excerpt from my book, I Wept by the Rivers of Babylon:
This commences as Tollie approaches the prison authority to report my assault:
________"What are you trying to tell me?" Lt. Bennet's voice filled the room.
His office stood pristine with surfaces shining and perfect like the polished mirrored glaze on the lieutenant's shoes.
His motto was: Get to the point or get the hell out! Impatient and insistent; he listened anyway.
Inmate Tollie Padgett's folder lay open on the desk before him.
Padgett was another JW, one of the inmate leaders of the 40 incarcerated non-combatants and a bit older than the rest, a college graduate.
Padgett had written a "cop-out" form requesting a personal hearing.
Inmate request forms served as the permanent record of inquiry and communication between inmates and staff.
Prison is bureaucracy, especially a federal prison.
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Bennet appraised requests, all of them. He was the final arbiter, the court of final inquiry and the warden's prime minister.
Padgett was bid to sit down in a chair the color of despair.
"One of the Brothers was attacked by another inmate. . ."
"Which inmates are we talking about here?"
(It is never safe to snitch names; there is an unwritten code of zero tolerance.)
Officers asked anyway to see how each man negotiated, persuaded, lied or begged. This was an x-ray for character and honesty.
"Inmate Terry Walstrom, Y-11857, was the victim and I don't know the name of his attacker. I can tell you which building and what room the perpetrator is in, though."
Bennett leaned forward instinctively as though a thought had crossed his mind.
"Exactly what went down and why isn't your ‘Brother’ in here telling me himself if he is an injured party?"
Padgett pursed his lips and glanced thoughtfully to the side.
"He's—I guess, not talking—at least, not in any detail. He doesn't exactly know what to do. The perpetrator pretended to be interested in hearing about what we Jehovah's Witnesses believe. He used that to lure Brother Walstrom into one of those storage warehouses behind Mess Hall. He grabbed him from behind and threatened him."
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"Threatened what?"
This sort of incident was more uncommon than people on the outside would ever believe.
Inmates could find anything they want inside the fence. It isn't necessary to use force. Something was awry. Prisoners quickly learned how to barter and negotiate. The price, if right, brought everything but freedom.
"My guess—this other inmate wanted to force sex on Brother Walstrom. This happened yesterday around this time."
Bennett grinned sardonically and shifted back in his chair. He turned toward the window and looked out across the compound. It was noon, or, a little past.
Inmates were scurrying around like toy soldiers on patrol. Bennett put his arms behind his head and clasped his hands for thoughtful support.
"You guess? You either know something or you don't. Why are you wasting my time?"
Padgett could sense he was about to be tossed out. This was the time to get right to the point.
"I know this Brother; I know his temperament and character.”
“Something terrible happened. He isn't talking because he doesn't know how to deal with what happened. He is very likely ashamed and filled with rage. I would be!”
Bennett listened dispassionately. JW's were boys among men.
What did they expect?
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"Well, now, when he is ready to tell me what did or didn't occur, I'll be all ears."
Bennett threw a meaningful glance Padgett's way. It was a dismissal.
Rising anger took hold as Padgett walked toward the office exit. He pivoted and faced Bennett.
"Sir, if the Brothers are being molested it is your responsibility to investigate!”
Bennett flinched imperceptibly. His face suffused with blood.
Then, he gained icy control and made not a move or a sound. That was his own tactic and he wouldn't rise to bait.
"Really? You boys aren't Bennett’s Witnesses are you? What the hell does Jehovah do all day?"
Padgett stared briefly, then exited. He and the other guys would take care of it.
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24
Another JW "friend" bites the dust
by TerryWalstrom injust got word one of my favorite friends died a year ago!
only now have i heard about it.
he remained a devout jehovah's witness--so--he could not/would not speak to me.
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TerryWalstrom
Just got word one of my favorite friends died a year ago! Only now have I heard about it.He remained a devout Jehovah's Witness--so--he could not/would not speak to me. I loved him very much.We were in prison together.He was my mentor. He was an intellectual firebrand.When I was assaulted, he's the one who went to prison authorities and snitched. (I refused to do it.)It was he, Tollie Padget, who gathered six of the toughest looking JW's and surrounded my assailant and gave him a good talking to. (I smile at that...we were there as non-violent folks, you see. Words were our only weapons.)Tollie showed me what a Great Teacher was all about.I patterned myself as closely as possible after him.Tollie was 3 years older than the rest of us. He was a college graduate with, I think, a degree in Physics.He had given up Science to become a JW. He attended the now defunct JW Missionary school, Gilead. He served in Chile until health problems sent him home in El Paso where he died.What a guy!Four years after we were paroled, the END of 6,000 years of human existence was supposed to happen--immediately followed by the Thousand Year Reign of Christ.(Spoiler Alert: it didn't happen.)I turned away from the cult and pursued the Art career end of things. Tollie didn't flinch.Just think about that, will you?His religion predicted THE END and he remained another 40 years thinking it was going to come "soon."I called Tollie on the phone about 2 or 3 years ago.I heard rumors he was mentally free of the religion.He was happy to hear my voice.We chatted for about fifteen minutes until---He said something or other--it was the statement of a devout True-Believer!Oh, no.I made an excuse to go and promised to e-mail him.You see...I just didn't want to have "THAT" conversation with him.You know, the one where I'm an Apostate and he has to disconnect from me because I'm going to die at Armageddon?Yeah.I wrote him instead and included a copy of my prison biography--(with a chapter on Tollie).I invited him to read it and we'd discuss things---If he so chose.He did not.Now...he's gone. So many of my band of Brothers are dead and gone. They died waiting on the bus that doesn't come.Sigh.Wherever you are, Tollie my good friend--I love you.
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