Chapter 4: Beyond Expectations

Throughout the next several years when he was home, it became progressively harder to please him and he became more abusive toward Mama, Buck and me. Mama and Dad were auguring over everything now. The verbal abuse escalated into physical confrontations of pushing and shoving matches. Buck and I tried to smooth things out between them as much as possible siding with Dad most of the time just to appease him and doing so usually calmed him down, but it always ended the same way; a call to the maritime union and requesting the next ship out.

The trips taking him to meet the ship were not enjoyable any more. In the past, when we were younger, Dad took us to the beaches, zoos, drive-in movies, ate out, and just spent time until he reported on board, but now we shot straight to the home port only to stop for restroom breaks and to buy gas.We were once the pride of Dad, but now we became baggage.

Mama and Dad did not talk as they did before and Buck and I were mostly ignored except for and occasional blast of short commands of, "Knock that crap off." "Be quite!" "Keep your hands to yourself," which came from either Mama, Dad or both in retaliation to our unorthodox games played in the rear seat trying to overcome the boredom.Mama, instead of crying when Dad left, now said, "I’m so glad he’s gone. I wish he would never return."

The summer before Buck graduated was the end of what we knew of family life and the last time Buck and I ever did anything with Dad: Dad bought an old boat and an outboard motor so he could store his gear and take off at the drop of a hat as he continued his fishing expeditions to Percy Quinn State Park. The boat was a new thrill for Buck and I at first as we puttered into the swamps of the man made lake fed by the East Fork of the Amite River with Dad trolling and enjoying himself until we hit a submerged stump and sheared the cotter key or broke the shaft which in turn all hell would break out with a flurry of cuss words and screaming at us about how stupid we were and how we should have lifted the prop as we entered the shallow waters.

We never carried extra cotter keys, or used props, but we did carry two paddles and Buck and I would have to paddle the two hour trip back down the river, tacking our way through the stumps. We caught more Water Moccasins, Cotton Mouths, Snapping turtles, and Eels than fish; therefore, getting bitten by one always played a role in our minds if we had to jump into the water to un-lodge the boat. After paddling back to the boat house on several occasions because inevitably the old outboard was more trouble than it was worth and getting laughed at by our friends who were water skiing did not help our egos we began making excuses not to go fishing anymore. Dad began making excuses not to take Mama fishing with him anymore.He told Mama he needed time alone and Mama gave him room to do whatever he wanted to do. He sold his toys and returned to stuffing the car full of fishing gear and fly fishing off the banks below the spillway.She never questioned him as his coming and going as he would bring a mess of fish home every so often and Buck and I would clean them and Mama deep fried them along with Hush Puppies and onion rings. Meal time was the only time we spent together and they were full of tension.

Dad’s use of time was not all alone as Mama found out from a phone call from Mrs. Holiday who told Mama she had seen Dad at the Chatter Box with his ex-wife and they were doing more than just talking. Mama lit into him and gave him enough rope to hang himself and he used every inch of it in his explanation, and Mama did not relinquish the rope or accept any of his excuses. The moment he confessed to seeing Allie, he slap Mama and told her to shut up, that he had enough of her bitching and then shoved her. She reeled back into the corner of the hall, lost her balance and slid down to the floor. She was horrified and Buck and I went after him, with Buck screaming, "Don’t you hit my mama again." Dad shook Buck off and Buck staggered back into me driving me back into our bedroom. Dad reached for his back pocket where he kept his switchblade knife, brought it around to his right hip and took a stance of a well-trained fighter; feet, spread shoulder width and slightly bent, bobbing and weaving on the balls of his feet. He was ready to fight.

Mama screamed, "Buck! Get in your bedroom. He’s crazy and will kill you. I’ll be all right."

Dad pushed the locking mechanism of the knife, the six-inch blade opened with a swooshing sound through the air and snapped opened in its’ locked position with a click. Calmness settled over him now as he took complete control of the situation. His intense voice sent chills and fear throughout me as he stated through clinched teeth, "I’ll cut your fucking hearts out if you little bastards come out."

That was the first time I’d ever heard the F word, it was not a common expression at that time and I did not know what it meant, but I did realize it must be the supreme cuss word used only in the most aggressive dispute. This was an antagonistic dispute as Mama was pulling on his leg and sobbing, "J B, if you hurt those boys, I’ll kill you-"

His words, "I’ll take your mother out to Percy Quinn- " were interrupted by Mama’s shouting.

"You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you if you touch my boys-."

He completed his interrupted statement, "nobody will ever see her again."

Mama was still on the floor. Her hand still gripped his belt and she continued looking up into his face and with contempt reiterated, "I’ll kill you if you touch my boys," and at the same time she jerked her hand from his belt he looked down; and for some reason, whether it was the sight of her on the floor or what she said penetrated his hypnotize state and he folded his knife and slipped it into the rear pocket from which it came, stepped over her, and left her kneeling on the floor.

His voice was chilling, "I’ll continue to take care of your kids till they graduate, and then they will get the hell out of my house."

"Your house, my ass," Mama retorted filled with piss and vinegar, "you may have made the money but by God I busted my ass making it a home. Everything we own is because I took the initiative and bought the property. The house is paid for; everything we own is paid for. If it was not for me scrimping and saving,you wouldn’t have a pot to piss in, or a window to throw it out. You hear me?"

Dad ignored her, slammed out the back door, and started ramming his fishing gear in the car and the next thing we heard was the engine start and the whine of the transmission as he backed out the drive.

We were eating breakfast when Dad came out the spare bedroom and one could cut the tension as it permeated the house. "You want any breakfast?" Mama asked breaking the silence.

"Nope," Dad replied. "I’m going to call the hall then I’m going fishing." He made the call and after hanging up he said, "You’ll have to take me to Galveston, Texas Monday. The Lykes line has an opening, I’m taking it." He pushed the screen door open and announced, "I’ll be back late tonight. Don’t wait up for me." From that moment, our house was no longer our safe haven or sanctuary.

Sunday night they began packing and left early Monday morning. Mama called late Monday night, "We made it here. J B, reported aboard when we got here. I’m spending the night and will leave tomorrow, early. I’ll be home tomorrow evening. You boys be good."

Buck graduated in June and joined the Navy before Dad returned. I still had a year left of school and during the summer of my senior year, Dad returned from his treck to India, and for the next year he traveled up and down the coastlines and ports of Africa to Asia. His return home coincided with my graduation in May, and we avoided each other like the plague for the next three weeks until one morning he ask,"Rags, you remember what I said about living here after you graduated?"

"Yes sir, I do."

"Well, what are your plans? You need to start finding a job or do like your brother and enlist in the Navy. They will give you a place to live, teach you something, and pay you while you learn."

"Well, I am thinking about going to New Orleans and join the merchant marines."

"Helen, come here," Dad called out. Mama came into the kitchen, "your son said he wants join the merchant marines. Helen, you had better take him down to the recruiter’s office. He’s too young for the merchant marines, and he can’t join the union. He’ll be wasting his time in New Orleans. The best thing for him to do is join the Navy. Helen, remember what I said, ‘after graduation I’m not supporting him any longer.’ "

"Yes, I remember what you said," replied Mama as picked up the phone, asked for information, then for the Navy recruiter. The next thing I know, I’m at the Naval recruiting office with Mama saying don’t come back until you sign up. I signed the enlistment papers with a twinge of fear and guilt knowing if Armageddon came I would certainly be destroyed along with the other ninety-nine point five percent of Earth's population who stood in opposition to Jehovah and his Earthly Organization.

My mind did not remain on my fear long because after the induction ceremonies which we had to raise our right hand and repeat an oath to serve and protect the United States of America we received our first orders, "Girls, at-te-e-e-n-hut! We didn’t know what to do with his command, so we just stood there. He turned toward his recruiting partner, "Sergeant Wilson, are you surprise?"

"Surprised?--No I am not," responded Sergeant Wilson then he posed a question. "Petty Officer Cahill how are we going to get their attention? Didn’t you have some information to pass on to these slime balls?"

"Yes I have important information concerning these maggots’ future. So we better give them an example," Petty Officer Cahill’s voice became condescending as he said, "they need to understand the command attention, don’t you think so?"

Sergeant Wilson stepped forward and said, "I’m going to show you worms your first commands. I’m only going to do it once, once only. When you hear "front and center" I want you to form a group and look at me. I want your undivided attention. When I say, ‘fall in,’ I want you to step to this white painted line," he pointed to the narrow white strip on the floor, "place your toes on the line and line up from right to left. Do you understand girls?"

Petty officer Cahill stepped to the line and placed the toes of his shoes on the line. When you hear dress-right-dress; snap your right out arm shoulder height. Watch Petty Officer Cahill," Petty Officer Cahill once again responded by following the command, "Got it, girls? At the command, at-te-e-e-en-hut," Petty Officer Cahill snapped to a rigid stance standing tall, chest out, knees straight, chin in, and dropped his extended arm to his side; straight and stiff. The command dress right, dress was issued and Petty Officer Cahill’s right arm shot up shoulder high as his head turned to the right. "That is how you will dress right, dress." With the command, "at ease", you can relax your stand, Petty Officer Cahill relaxed his stance changing his weight from one leg to the other. The command, fall out, means you are free to leave," at which Petty Officer Cahill moved from his assignment.

"Okay girls, don’t screw up! Your country is counting on you," his voice seemed to plead with us then he inhaled and with force and authority he exclaimed, "Fall in! We responded.

"Sergeant, we got geniuses here." We toed the line, and he grinned. "Dress-right, dress," came the command, we pleased him again. "At-t-e-e-e-e-n-hut!" We snapped to the command.

"Damn! Look at our college grads," sarcasm oozed out of the remark, "at ease!" he ordered. We relaxed and started to talk. "I did not tell you, you could talk did I," he shouted, "did you see Petty Officer Cahill speak when I said, ‘at ease,’ did you?"

We answered his question, "No."

"No," he shouted, "no what, sailor? Don’t you mean, No sir?" He asked shouting exposing the large artery in his neck.

"Yes sir! No sir!" We answered.

"That is better, girls. Now, fall out." He ordered. We followed his order and broke file and started laughing.

"Girls, I almost forgot this command," he reached into his breast pocket took a pack of cigarettes out, flipped his lighter open, took a drag, "the smoking lamp is on. Smoke-um if you got-um." With that command, it became a smoke-out as the "greasers" lit their smokes.

I need you back here tomorrow afternoon by three-thirty. There will be a bus here to take you to Jackson for your physical then your boot camp assignment. You’ll need, o-o-o-o-h around, let’s say twenty-five dollars to get you through your first month of boot camp. You won’t need any clothes except for what you will be wearing to Jackson," We were dismissed with a warning, "don’t miss the bus. You belong to the United States Navy. We will find you!" he reiterated the time, "Three-thirty tomorrow afternoon. See you tomorrow, three-thirty."

The following day Mama dropped me off at the recruiting office and handed me twenty dollars, gave me a kiss, and said goodbye. Several more enlistees arrived, and at four o’clock Petty Officer Cahill arrived with a gray colored bus had Department of the Navy stenciled to its side. He open the door stepped out, scanned the group, and said, "Good afternoon girls. Fall-in," he shouted pointing to a spot directly in front of him. "Right here. Let’s go! Let’s go! Double time! Fall-in." Short and concise were his orders. We jumped at his command and formed a single file. He barked out another order, "Listen up! When you hear your name," he raised his arm above his head and shook the clipboard, "say, ‘here,’ then board the bus, starting from the rear to the front." We accomplished the exercise without an incident.
We arrived in Jackson where we took our physicals. I was one of the "lucky" ones who passed the physical and received my orders to train in San Diego, California. I called home and Mama started crying.

The induction into the military was complete and all remained was the trip to the airport where a DC 7 was waiting on us recruits. We filed on to the plane saying nothing, I know I was too scared to talk. I never had flown before and my white knuckled experience became even greater as I hung on to the chair arms as we lifted off, gripped even harder as the plane hit air pockets and dropped, fell, rattled, and shook. With all the rocking and rolling it was hard to concentrate on learning my service number as instructed by Petty Officer Cahill. There was a unified exhaling as we touched down and rolled to a stop on the tarmac and boot camp began with the words delivered by a loud irritating high pitch voice screaming, "Welcome to the United States Navy. Get your asses off this bird and fall in front and center." We lined up for our bus ride to San Diego Naval Boot Camp. Most of us memorized our service numbers, and the ones whom did not, wished they had.

We were ushered through a barrack and issued boots, socks, drawers, dungarees-shirts and bell-bottom trousers a set of whites and a set of blues along with P-coat, a stencil with our service numbers and a sea bag.

Reveille sounded at four thirty A.M. "Drop your cocks and grab your socks." was the order of the day and shouted for the duration of the bunk shaking and baton rattling against its metal frame. My boot camp experience began for real just as it is depicted in books and movies, maybe even more so as we were stripped down, dehumanized, called everything imaginable, fat boys became slim, skinny boys filled out, shy boys became extroverts, extroverts and braggadocios learned to keep their mouths shut, and at the end we were transformed into well trained men, and with that said I will not belabor the experiences of "ass hole and elbows", but for the sake of explaining the effect my early religious experiences with Jehovah's Witnesses controlled my sense of reasoning I will relate my first Catholic Mass which I attended with a great deal of apprehention.

The first thing I saw which shocked me was the vast number of attendees, because I was under the impression from the Society’s teachings that the waters of Babylon the Great was drying up, but what I saw was in strong contrast, the waters of the river of life seemed to be flowing quite freely and in an abundance from the throne of God. The second shock which reaffirmed my earlier beliefs came as the earth began to tremble as the Priest spread his arms and looked toward the heavens and began to pray. The trivial tremors caught my attention and the following tremor which caused the earth to roll turned into a steady shaking, which shook the Mass right out of me and rattled the teachings’ of Jehovah’s Witness right back into my consciousness. I stopped listening to his prayer and started saying my own prayer, "Oh, Jehovah, please don’t let this be Armageddon. I know I am in the wrong place with the wrong people, and doing the wrong thing, but I’ll start serving you again when I get out of the Navy." I’m sure trying to make a deal with Jehovah didn’t pay dividends; but, the tremors did subside without any aftershocks, and needless to say I never attended another Mass. I had enough of false religion to last a lifetime.

Chapter 3 Modified Expectations

Home life began to change with each passing year, and the year Dad spent home recovering from a heart attack cost him his freedom to gallivant the world, as he was accustomed to do, and he became antsy and cantankerous. He changed, or he was home long enough for us to recognize him for what he truly was; a mean man with cutting words of negativity.

He was a far cry from the jovial old man of five years ago whom knelt down and asked, "Where would you pecker woods like to go?" I did not know what to say, but I was in love with that big ugly man the moment he placed his hand on my head and tousled my hair a couple of times. His hand was gentle as it covered my head and my fear left as I looked passed his cropped red hair, big hooked nose, and large ears that appeared to stop his hat from sliding over his eyes in the midst of explaining, "I’m thinking about taking your mama out to grab something to eat. You boys want to come?"

"Can we Mama? Can we?" We pleaded.

He did not wait; he took the matter into his hand and said, "The only answer is yes." He called out to Aunt Ginny and Uncle Russ and said, "Don’t worry; I’ll take good care of them. See you later and have a good night." He raised his hand and gave a wave good bye. Turning his attention to us, he pointed to the pink and white car, "Get in!" Following his instructions, we jumped off the porch ran down the gravel drive and open the heavy door and scampered in. We ended up outside of Brookhaven at Dogs and Suds where we introduced our stomachs to our first foot long hotdogs. We ordered four-foot longs, three chocolate, and one vanilla milk shake with side orders of French fries.

Through out the meal he joked with us, and "Pecker Wood this, and Pecker Wood that," trying to make us laugh, and we did. We finished eating and mama suggested he take us home because it was pass our bedtime. He honked the horn and a girl skated out and took the tray from the window. The trip back home flew. He took his hands off the steering wheel and shouted, "Look Ma, no hands." He gunned the engine at the incline of the railroad crossing. The heavy car just could not break gravity, but we got a big kick out of the thumping of the tires against the tracks and cross-ties as we bounced around in the back seat. We were back at Aunt Ginny’s before we knew it.

She opened the screen door, waved at Mama and Mr. Hinson as we ran into the house,closed the door, and put her finger up to her lips,"Shhh, Uncle Russ is asleep."

It did not make sense how Uncle Russ could sleep through the ruckus and noise of all the trains and switch engines rumbling and squealing pass their house. The Illinois Central Rail Road provided the house rent-free for the section boss, and having a free place to live, offset the location of living in the vertex of an obtuse triangle of the main tracks used by City of New Orleans and the Panama Limited as they streaked North and South from New Orleans to Chicago. The switching spur running northeast and southwest kept the switching crews moving all night as well as shaking the house. The squealing of the brakes, the slamming of the cars together as the couplings locked joining the cars together. The yelling and cussing of the brakeman and flagmen shouting orders, the fireman slamming and dragging the water shoot against the tank making the floodgates of heaven open as they filled the boiler from the old wood water tower. Yes, Uncle Russ heard none of that commotion, but as we ran toward our bedroom laughing, his booming voice came from the closed door, "Boys, hold the noise down, don’t make me get up and tan your fannies."

"Yes sir," we shouted, letting him know we heard him over the symphony of the grinding, snorting, belching, gurgling, and squealing of the Illinois Central Rail Road.

Aunt Ginny gave us a kiss good night and tucked us in bed.Uncle Russ hollered,
"Good night." I did not answer; all I could think of was how funny Mr. Hinson had been. He was a fun guy and every Friday Mr. Hinson took us out, and spent some time with us before he would drop us off at Mama’s request and they would leave again. He seemed to like Buck and me, and I liked him, but Buck did not accept him as freely as I did, and it showed on the evening Mama and Mr. Hinson instead of dropping us off, came inside.

Mr. Hinson looked at Uncle Russ and blurted out, "Mr. Russum, I want to take Helen off your hands. I asked her to marry me. She said, ‘Yes,’ boys can I be your Dad? If you say yes, we will all move to McComb and be a family. What you say?" Uncle Russ and Aunt Ginny jump up out of their chairs, hugged Mama, and shook Mr. Hinson’s hand. Buck and I smiled and agreed with a resounding, "Okay," at which Buck walked to our bedroom and closed the door.

Mama never looked more beautiful than she did on her wedding day as Uncle Russ gave Mama away. Her light pink dress hugged her hips showing off her figure, her hair was still jet-black with no indication of turning gray. Mr. Hinson looked impressive in his new suit, and the double ring ceremony ended with the preacher saying, "You may kiss the bride." Mama was standing below Mr. Hinson’s armpit looking radiantly up into his face as he bent over and lowered his head to meet her response to the preacher’s instructions. This was the first time I ever saw Mama kiss anybody except Buck and me and a streak of jealousy rushed over me. I ran to Mama. When they completed their kiss, Mr. Hinson looked down at me and said, "Now you can call me daddy."

Instead of going straight to McComb and becoming a family as Mr. Hinson had promised, Mama told us we were going home with Aunt Ginny for two weeks.
"Your Dad and I are going to spend sometime together before we moved to McComb," she said giving us a kiss. She sprinted after Dad and left us looking at them drive away with the horn blowing, hands waving, cans bouncing, paper, and ribbons leaving a paper trail behind as they broke away from the string attached to the bumper.

Mama called the next day and asks how we were doing and then talked a little longer to Aunt Ginny. Buck and I stood there looking at her as she began to giggle, "Really? Please Helen, I don’t need to know that."

Buck said, "Aunt Ginny what’s so funny?"

"Buck, be quiet. It doesn’t concern you," she said scolding Buck. "Helen," she giggled again, "so you are having fun," she said with the emphasis was on fun. "Good for you. I’m so happy. Okay, we will see you in two weeks then."

"What did Mama say?" Buck asked again.

"She told me to tell you and Rags she loves you and misses you."

Mama and Dad returned from their honeymoon happy, smiling, and at peace and we packed our belongings and headed for McComb. We turned onto Earl Street and then turned into the second driveway on the right. The house was a small bungalow with a yard needing some work, but first things first. Dad introduced us right away to his side of the family and the first "kin-fok" we met were Uncle Ralph and Aunt Vera. They farmed, and we became best friends with their barn and throughout the summer we mucked the stalls and took the treasure home.

Our first summer filled us with life experiences as we spent it working around the house and yard and going fishing with Dad on the weekends. He loved fishing and he invented a little worm finder as he called it. It had two metal prongs with lamp cord attached running into the wooden housing with a small hand crank coming out of the side. He walked out his little shop over to the flower bed where we found more worms than we could use for fishing and he pushed each rod into the moist ground and gave the handle a whirl pick one probe out and gave the handle another turn. "Hum," he said in wonderment, "you know boys, when I stick these leads into the ground and turn the knob, worms should come to the surface. Buck come here I need to check the worm finder. Hold these two leads, one in each hand," Dad instructed Buck and showed him how to hold them. Rags, would you go get a can out of the garbage to put the worms in?"

"Yes sir," I said jumping to his request.

I was leaning over the garbage can looking for a can when I heard a whir of the handle, Buck shouting," Daddy,that hurt! What is it?"

"It’s my worm finder," Dad said laughing.

"It made me tingled."

"Come here Rags," Dad said, and like an obedient pup I came over and handed him the can, "Buck said it hurt, I can’t believe it hurt, so here take these prongs." He showed me how to hold them just as he showed Buck.

I reached out and followed the instructions. Dad cranked the handle as hard as he did with Buck. I shouted and threw the prongs down, Daddy laughed and said, "Well, I guess we have a working worm finder."

Mama heard my shout and shouted out the kitchen window, "J B, be nice to the boys."

"I’m not doing anything honey, just showing my sons how to use the worm finder."
"Oh, okay," Mama said not questioning Daddy’s answer.

Daddy looked at us,held a finger over his mouth and said,"Shhhh, don’t tell your Mama."

We complied and the test continued with every fishing trip. We would fetch the worm finder and "just to check it out" Buck or I would hold the prongs and Daddy would give it a whirl we would shout and he would laugh. We became smart over time and refused to play with Daddy anymore, but we did shock each other whenever Daddy wanted us to "dig worms."

Just before school started in September, Dad received a call from the Maritime Union Hall. They had a ship loaded with cargo for Cape Town, South Africa and needed to fill the crew’s list with a Radio Operator. Dad signed on for the job and told Mama it would be a nine-month cruise and he had to report to New Orleans by the end of the week to catch the ship.

We drove down to New Orleans weaved through the Port Of New Orleans and finally located the Seventh Street Wharf where the S. S. Leslie Lykes was moored in mucky brown water. It was a dingy looking ship with rust stains running down the side and large rat shields installed around the moorings.

We walked up the steep gangplank. Dad showed us around then took us to the mess hall for lunch. From the mess hall, Dad led us through a dimly lit passageway to a ladder that led up to the second deck. We passed through a hatch and at the second door he pushed it open and stepped into his quarters and broke out in a grin when he saw a man standing in front of his desk,"Damn, it is nice to see you Sam."

"Sparks! It’s you," the man exclaimed, "what a surprise! I am glad to see you. It sure makes the job easier when you work with someone you know. I’m glad you were available for this cruise."

They shook hands, "I’m happy as hell that you will be working with me, as you well know it can be a son of a bitch with a new crewman."

Mama spoke up, "J. B., the boys are here."

"I’m sorry Honey it just slipped out," he said reaching out and drawing her close to him as he continued to show pleasure and pride with our introduction,"Sam, I got a brand new family since the last time we sailed together. This is my wife, Helen and our sons Buck and Rags. We just got married this past June."

Sam and Mama clasp hands acknowledging each other’s greeting. An announcement over the inter-com requesting all family members to depart the ship interrupted their conversation; so we gave our goodbyes to Sam and wished him good luck. Dad ushered us to the main deck. He kissed Mama Goodbye wiped away her tears then hugged us. We walked down the gangplank with the other family members and watched the process of "getting underway."

The boatswain mate began shouting orders to raise the gangplank, remove the bow and stern moorings. "All lines free" echoed through out the wharf as the fore and aft hawseholes became free of the spring lines. Dad gave his final wave as the Captain ordered the crew to "man your stations." The tugboat’s foghorn blasted as it pulled the ship slowly from the wharf. The ship’s screws churned the filthy waters sending a musky stench into the air. It was amazing to watch such a small boat tow the Leslie Lykes beyond the docks, into the open canal beyond the breakwaters and out of sight.

The trip home was long and Mama cried off and on as we headed North through the bayou towns of Metarie, Ponchatoula, Hammon, Tickfaw, Fluker, and finally Kentwood, Louisiana. There was only twenty-two miles remaining as we passed Osyka, Mississippi.

I still remember seeing the big pile of cow manure that came into view with the car’s headlights as we pulled to a stop. We began shoveling it the next day. The hot Mississippi sun baked down on us for the next three weeks as we spread it over every inch of the yard. The benefits of the manure and scattered showers paid off as the rains dissolved the last trace of our hard work around the roots of the once dormant landscape, and by the end of summer the weeping willow, mimosa, and pine trees took on deep green leaves and needles. The hedges filled out, and the lawn of Saint Augustine grass became lush green and the barren areas became a five o'clock stubble of new sprouted runners. It was Mama’s passion and she blossomed right along with the house and yard.

Chapter 2 Meeting God's People

Tuesday evening came and sure to Mama’s word she started getting ready to go to the meeting and made Buck and me get ready. Buck went out and started the car as Mama and I slipped on our winter coats. The car was warm when we open the door. The wipers dried the light drizzle from the windshield as we backed out of the drive and turned left heading East down Earl Street, passing all the neighbors who were home looking at TV. At the corner of Venable Street, we turned left on Third Street, first passing the City’s attorney house sitting on a triple size lot where we played baseball throughout the summer. Large Victorian homes lined both sides of the street as we continued toward downtown. The last house that ended the parade of the elite in South McComb belonged to the President of the First National Bank of McComb. It was a large two-story brick mansion. Four white columns supporting the balcony running the width of the house.

Three blocks further along the rolling asphalt street, the business section began and at the intersection of Delaware Avenue, Old Highway 51, and Main Street, we caught the red light and across the street stood the pride of McComb’s houses of God. The grandiose Catholic Cathedral, its steeple tolled Oh Holy Night from its belfry as it reached far above the Episcopalian’s and the magnificent Lutheran Church.

The signal light turned green and Mama turned right on Main Street. The holiday season was in full swing now. The sidewalks were bustling with people shopping and Christmas music played from every storefront as it harmonized with the tolling bells as we drove slowly down the street stopping for jaywalkers darting in and out and around, the parked cars. Two blocks down, she pulled into a parking space in front of an old two-story brick building.

The meeting began at seven-thirty and as usual, Mama being prompt arrived at seven. Seven-twenty came and finally Mrs. Franklin pulled next to us, got out, knocked on our door, and motioned for us to come with her. We followed her through a narrow foyer where she shortly stopped, inserted a key into the latch, gave it a twist and pushed open the door separating the stairs from the outside sidewalk. She turned on the stairwell light. It dimly lit the stairs as we followed her up to the second story and at the landing; she turned left down the hall to door number six with the sub-title, Kingdom Hall of Jehovah’s Witness stenciled in calligraphy across the crackled obscure glass inset of the old Mahogany door. She opened the door, stepped in, and pushed the switch turning on the single bulb dangling from an antiquated cord from the ceiling which displayed about twenty hard back folding chairs, a speaker’s podium, an old table with one of the folding chairs pushed under.

The Bible described Jesus meeting in a small upper room with his disciples and my imagination ran wild as I pictured Jesus’ meeting room. Mrs. Franklin told us to sit wherever we wanted to. We chose the rear of the room and as we sat down a tall lanky man rushed through the door, "I’m so sorry I’m running late," was the first thing he said then surveyed the room, "oh, nobody else is here yet," he murmured in undertone to himself, "that is good. I will have time to set up."

Mrs. Franklin walked over to him as he began to take some books out of his book bag and said, "Paul I want you to meet my Bible studies, Helen Hinson and her sons Buck and Rags.

Paul, glanced up, waved, and with a voice so soft it oozed humble pie all over the place said, "Hi, nice to meet you. Please forgive me, but I have to set up the book study." I guess he meant he needed to pull the chair out from the table and set his book and Bible on the podium, because that is all he did except fumble with some papers and reshuffle them.

In response, we simply acknowledge him with a simple hello as a rumbling of chatter and laughter came from the hall. Paul stood erect and relief spread over his face. "Sounds like we’re getting company," he said as the door opened and an older man and woman who resembled "Ma and Pa Kettle" entered. "Pa" in his rumbled pin striped suit headed toward the table along side Paul, and "Ma" dressed in her print dress and carrying a large black purse lumbered over to the roll of seats closest to the wall, where she opened her purse brought out the green Bible and a pale green book with a ram’s horn on the cover.

Paul playfully wiped his brow, "Brother Freeman, I’m sure glad to see you. I’m sure Sister Franklin didn’t want to read."

Sister Franklin pulled a large handkerchief from her purse, waved it over her head as she replied, "Brother Simons, you know me. I always come prepared." The entire room burst out in laughter at her show and tell.

The room miraculously filled within the next few moments and if it wasn’t for Janet, Diana, Buck, Paul, and myself there would not be any young people, and I though, This ain’t like South McComb Baptist. This church is nothing but old people.

Paul welcomed the group as he briefly introduced us. Paul asks Brother Freeman to open the meeting in prayer. I can’t speak for anybody else, but I was lost. His prayer did not resemble any prayer I heard before. There was not any asking for blessing our troops or giving thanks for living in this great country or praying for the poor and misfortunate. He just went on and on praising the faithful and discreet slave class for the wisdom disbursed to the flock. Jesus was not mention until Mr. Freeman concluded with, "in the name of your son we humbly partition you, and then the entire congregation joined in with him with the word, "Amen!"

The entire meeting and book study sounded as if it were a foreign language. I was happy when the meeting ended because I did not understand anything discussed. Brother Locklear said the closing prayer, and it is too bad he didn’t open in prayer, because if he had, there would have been no need to study for the meeting. The prayer lasted five minutes if it lasted a second. The "Amen" brought a bombardment of people coming over, introducing themselves, and wanting to know how we enjoyed the book study and who we were studying with and after a few minutes of questioning Mama gave an excuse to leave.

Christmas day arrived and we woke up early, Daddy called on his ham radio from the ship and wished us a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. He told us he missed us and couldn’t wait to get home. Mama cried as she talked and Buck and I started opening gifts. I couldn’t wait to rip the wrapping paper off to get to the Red Ryder BB Guns. We poured the BBs into the magazines of our rifles and ran outside to target practice. It wasn’t long until our friends came over. Each rode their new bikes and carried footballs. We tried out each other’s presents then there came the grand finale, after comparing the balls, we chose the best and started playing "smear the queer."

The holiday season slipped by and we resumed our study with Mrs. Franklin as Mama said we would. We attended the meetings spasmodically. Being a kid with a new BB rifle who liked to play army, I listened fixated to the topic, "Use Theocratic War Strategy" with its illustration taken from a nineteen fifty-seven Watchtower study article:
"A witness of Jehovah was going from house to house in Eastern Germany when she met a violent opposer. Knowing at once what to expect she changed her red blouse for a green one in the very next hallway. No sooner had she appeared on the street than a Communist officer asked her if she had seen a woman with a red blouse. No, she replied, and went on her way. Did she tell a lie? No, she did not. She was not a liar. Rather, she was using theocratic war strategy, hiding the truth by action and word for the sake of the ministry."Theocratic warfare applied by the Society states: "…only the truth is to be told to those who are deserving." It was a good idea and I used it with Mama, but I didn’t gain any ground as I tried to slant the truth whenever I was caught in a lie.

With each meeting we were still progressing little by little in "the truth" and applying many of the Society’s scriptural admonitions to become part of God’s Earthly Organization, but making a stand for our religion and isolating our neighbors while being ignored by our new found associates became a concern to Mama as she continued to invite the friends over for get-togethers throughout the next several months, but they continued to reject the invitations using different excuses which we finally figured out was another stratagem after Mama asked Mrs. Franklin why the friends never accepted her invitations. She said bluntly, "You are considered bad association and opened her Bible, showing us the scriptures about "bad association spoiling useful habits." The Society, recommended non-publishers not be associated with except at authorized congregational meetings. The reason is, "be on the guard that you are not led off and devoured by Satan…." Mama took the counsel to heart and we began going to the meetings regular, participating in the door-to-door work.

As we became regular at the meetings the friends opened their arms to us and we became accepted and part of their social get-togethers, which comprised of Bible games, questions and answers sessions concerning the teachings of The Organization and studying of the Watch Tower Magazine in preparation for the following Sunday meeting. The get-togethers were more of a measuring stick to gage the spiritual maturity of individuals, especially the brothers since they were the teachers in the congregations. The more one knew the more respect and adulation one would receive.

We were starting to gain respect in the congregation as we began to participate in the Watch Tower studies, but that came to an abrupt end the day after Dad returned home. We finished breakfast and began clearing the table when Mrs. Franklin knocked on the door. Mama introduced her to Dad and told him who she was and what we had been learning about the Bible. He rose from his chair at the table, extended his large statue to its full six foot, five inch frame, his chest expanded as he sucked in his share of oxygen as well as some of ours. His face turned red, and the veins in his neck strained to a point I thought they would burst. The entire neighborhood must have heard him say, "Lady if you don’t get the hell out of here and leave my family alone I’ll kick your ass out on the street personally." He slammed his right fist into his open left palm sending a smack emphasizing his, "I don’t want you or your kind making a shadow on my door step." Mama tried to run interference and smooth things over, but Dad would not have anything to do with it.

Mrs. Franklin’s eyes widened, her face drained of blood, she turned and darted out of the house and over her shoulders she reminded Mama, "Helen, remember what Jesus said about those who persecute his people." Mama did not answer her, but turned her attention to Dad while he told us we were getting involved in a cult. We did not know what a cult was and Dad did not explain. All he said was if we needed to go to church, we would all go to his Baptist church.

That episode with Mrs. Franklin brought the Bible verse, "If the world hates you, you know that it has hated me before it hated you," racing into my mind. The thought, maybe these people are right in their religion. I had never heard, nor seen any other religion talked about and treated as this group was, and what she had said after our study about persecution reinforced the point that this must be God's people.

Dad took us to his church the following Sunday and that was that. He was not much of a "church goer," so we spent time going fishing or hunting with him. The woods, creeks, and rivers were his comfort, and he taught us to walk softly and speak quietly. He would more often than not say, "You can be closer to God right here. Look at the sky, smell the trees--the turpentine of the pines, isn't it refreshing? You know you can even talk to God here--good talks, prayers, prayers for cleaning the soul…" after letting us evict the squirrels by firing of our .22 rifles into their nests which were left exposed by the fallen autumn leaves he world then squeeze the trigger of his .16 gage shotgun, and we watched the squirrel hit the ground; or after instructing us on the proper mechanics of casting, flick his wrist sending his home made fly traveling through the air, dropping it delicately on the water next to his favorite submerged log sending out a lazy ripple which separated as it reached the small branch that broke the water's surface then ending his sermon saying, " There is not a church as beautiful as the outdoors."

We spent every week end fishing or hunting until Dad shipped out, and then we returned to the Kingdom Hall, attending the meetings again, though irregular. This scenario continued until Buck had an altercation with Janet Franklin during the school’s assembly program in which he told Paul he saw Janet stand, place her hand over her heart, and recite the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag.
This is a serious accusation for a dedicated baptized Jehovah Witness and could be a disfellowshipping matter, because reciting the "Pledge" or singing the "National Anthem," is considered spiritual adultery and idolatry. This view was written about and accepted within the teachings as truth as early as the 1940s. Nationalism - Jehovah’s Witnesses believe "they owed allegiance to no person, flags, or nation; they owed allegiance only to Jehovah," therefore, they do not vote, salute the flag, or participate in military duty. Men have been jailed for refusing to be drafted. Children have been expelled for not pledging allegiance to the flag.", therefore, even though a baptized person would salute the flag, recite the allegiance, or even join the military; that person would not be "publicly" rebuked or disfellowshipped. It was the society’s consensus, the United States government could use the disciplinary action imposed by the Watch Tower Organization as an act of treason, and this is the view held by the "the governing body".

In as much as Janet said she did not pledge allegiance, it became a he said, she said, incident and they took her side, because she was baptized and Buck was not. This infuriated Mama and she said, "We are just as good as you baptized people. Just because we aren’t baptized don’t mean we are liars. You’ll have to answer to God not us," looking at me she commanded with a scowl, "get your stuff! We won’t be back."

We won’t be back, lasted until Mama got over pouting three years later in 1960. She never got over Buck being called a liar, but as she said, "Time heals all wounds." Well, it took over an extra year to heal her wounds, and in the mean time Buck and I had moved on. We lost what interest we had in living on a paradise Earth and playing with the animals. He was in his junior year in high school,and I traded in playing army and dreaming of being Tarzan for the dreams of playing baseball and football.

Mama coerced us into going to a Sunday meeting and to our surprise there sat Janet with a worldly boy, Freddy Rosenthral. Buck grinned from ear to ear and Freddy blushed from pink to red. "What are you doing here Freddy?" Buck asked still wearing the Cheshire cat grin.

"Janet told me she would go out with me if I came to the meetings," Freddy said winking at us.

"Freddy you are a sight for sore eyes. It is good to see you again," Mama said. "You never come over anymore. What have you been doing."

"Mrs. Hinson, I’m in a rock and roll band now with some of the schools band members and we play school hops around the state," Freddy said filling in the past three years from the old gang splitting and going each in their own direction.

"It is good to see you again. Feel free to drop by when you get the urge," Mama said as she stepped away to hug Mrs. Franklin.The wounds may have healed between the parents, but they were still raw between Buck and Janet.

"I’ll talk to you later Freddy," Buck said, "I better go sit down before the meeting starts."

The final meeting attendance came on a Tuesday night book study. The congregation was still in need of brothers to take the lead, so Mrs. Franklin was sitting in the position of the book study conductor with a bandanna covering her head when Mama asked her if Janet and Diana were sick, because neither of the girls attended.
"You know my girls, Helen," Mrs. Franklin said from under her bandanna and placing her hand to the side of her mouth trying to shield her comments from the older friends who may have died if they heard her say "period" continued, "they both got their period today, and you remember how they are when they get it."

"Hard to deal with, huh," Mama replied.

"You know it. It is time to start the meeting Helen, so I better go get Freddy." I thought Mama was going to choke on Mrs. Franklin’s statement.

Freddy sheepishly came following Mrs. Franklin down the hall while Buck and I just dropped our jaws in surprise. Freddy grinned and sat beside Buck and when the meeting ended Janet appeared from the hall and stood by Freddy and they held hands and stood a little too close to each other from the instructions we had heard about unmarried people.

Mama did not say anything to Mrs. Franklin, but she did express her feeling to us as we drove home. "It’s not right letting a boy in the bedroom with your daughter. I would never let any girl go into your bedroom. It’s just not right." It was the end of the topic and the end of going to the meetings, and Mrs. Franklin stopped coming by to encourage us to attend.

Chapter 1 The Potters Mold

I sat wishing, praying, and under my breath cursing my luck--I should be the one who was clinging to life, not my wife, not the mother of my children. We had come a long way together. Over thirty five years, she matured into a woman of tolerance and understanding--a woman any man would savor, not only to share a bed with but to share his life with. Now I wish I could share my prayers with her as I sat begging God, Jehovah, Jesus, and every other deity who crossed my mind; even going so far as selling myself to the Devil in hopes the woman who was needed by so many would not die, but with my head resting on her breast that sickening feeling engulfed me and I felt my hopes, dreams, and faith slip away as I whispered, "Honey it is okay if you want to let go," and with my next drawn breath pleading, "please, Trisha please, don’t die. I need you, the kids need you, your mother needs you." All the while, Trisha’s gown grew damp from the tears shed by our daughter, Rachelle, and me. Her hands, once so warm and comforting were cold, and the laboring of her breath no longer kept her cheeks pink, and it was at that moment I came to the realization no one was going to answer my prayers, not God or the Devil.

"Damn it, Jehovah, you are gonna let her die," I cried, not caring what anybody thought as I reached for the Kleenex tissue beside the bed and wiped the flow of my sinuses and tears. The words, "She is gone, Mr. Walker," spoken by Janet Wilcox, the attending nurse, became the splitting maul which splintered the rootstock of my family, friends, faith, and God.

Trisha's death ended our journey in life, and I ended the spiritual voyage I had been on since nineteen fifty-five as a young boy when Mama said, "Yes, I would love to live forever on a paradise Earth," in response to the two women who were standing in the threshold of our lives.

The older woman responded pleasantly, "We are so happy you are interested in the future for your family. My name is Louise Franklin and this is my companion, Lynn Booker. May I ask your name?"

"Helen Hinson," Mama answered extending her hand to greet them.

"Lynn and I would love to show you a scripture from the Bible," she said while flipping through the pages as she made small talk. She raised her head from her search and asked, "did you know God promised mankind there would be a time the Earth would become a paradise?" Not waiting for a reply she suddenly stopped flipping the pages, turned the Bible toward Mama, and asked a second question, "Would you like to read the scriptures that answer those questions?"

Mama responded, "Yes, I don’t mind reading the Bible."

"Now listen to God’s recorded promise as you read from Isaiah in the seventeenth verse of chapter sixty- five," she instructed Mama in a soft tone, almost a whisper as if she was in the presence of God.

Mama started reading,
"‘for I am creating new heavens and a new earth; and the former things will pass away...’ Verse twenty, ‘No more will there come to be a suckling a few days old from that place, neither an old man that will not fulfill his day...they will certainly build houses and have occupancy; and they certainly plant vineyards and eat their fruitage...for like the days of a tree will the days of my people be...’ ‘They will not toil for nothing...the wolf and the lamb themselves will feed as one and the lion will eat straw just like the bull...they will do no harm nor cause any ruin in all my holy mountain, Jehovah has said,’ "

Mama completed the reading and Mrs. Franklin looked beyond Mama, and smiled at me.
I was standing there taking in everything Mama read. It sounded enticing. The words played pictures in my mind as I placed myself into this new world of living forever playing with all the wild animals. "Wouldn’t that be nice to play with the wild animals and not get hurt," she asked.

"Yes ma’am," I answered.

From that moment, Mama was hooked on the Bible study. They arranged to return the following week to continue the study, and true to the arrangements, Mrs. Franklin returned and the Bible study began. She asked Buck and I to sit in on the study, but Mama said, "No, I would rather find out what this is all about before I let my kids get involved. Now you boys get out of here."

Hearing about the animals and living on a paradise sounded wonderful, but sitting for an hour studying about it was not appealing; so, we followed her order, got out of there, and rode our bikes over to Jimmy Locklear’s while they studied. Each week, like clockwork, Mrs. Franklin came and conducted the study, and after she left, Mama would tell us what she learned.

The fifth time Mrs. Franklin came Mama asked if we would like to sit in on the study. Buck and I gave a mild protest, but I guess out of curiosity and wanting to make Mama happy, we took our places at the table. Buck took it with a grain of salt, but I fell for not only the hook, and line, but I also swallowed the sinker. I was in love with the dream--the dream of living forever on Earth, and for a kid who loved to play--the dream of playing with lions, tigers, and all the wild animals just charged my mind with the images of me in the role of Tarzan.

Before the study began, Mrs. Franklin took a large bandana out of her purse, placed it upon her head, and stated since there were males at the study it was proper for her to show respect for headship by covering her head. She asked if we would mind having the study opened in prayer.

"I don’t mind saying the prayer," Mama said bowing her head, and we followed her example and bowed our heads in conjunction with the utterance of the word, "Our--" and before Mama's next word, Mrs. Franklin cleared her throat and we glanced up.

"Excuse me Helen," Mrs. Franklin said interrupting mama’s prayer. "While it is commendable you know how to pray; we need to get Jehovah’s blessing on our study. To approach God, one must be dedicated to him through water baptism. It would be better at this time since you are studying with me and I am your teacher that I lead you in prayer so it may be used as an example how to pray correctly. Shall I open in prayer?
The invisible birth mark which only appeared when Mama was upset glowed a bright red as it streaked from just below her hair line and disappeared into her thick black hair. Usually when that happened some choice words and cutting remarks came out to express her displeasure, but to my surprise she controlled herself and simply said, "That's fine with me."

Mrs. Franklin bowed her head and we followed like sheep once again as her prayer began, "Our loving heavenly father, Jehovah, we come with our heads humbly bowed asking for your spirit to be with us in this study of your word as your Faithful and Discreet slave has seen fit to dispense our food at the proper time giving the understanding to your people that you are the one and only true God whose name is Jehovah. We ask that you bless this family and give them insight into your will so they will accept you as their God also. Again we ask your holy spirit to remain with the Faithful and Discreet Slave Class to whom we gain the correct scriptural understanding. In your son Jesus' name we ask, amen." She lifted her head and smiled, "It is proper to say amen with the person who is praying if you are in agreement with the prayer."

She didn't miss a thing, and we took her advise and said, "Amen."

"Now let us open our books," she suggested with a little instructors' tone in her voice. We opened our orange books entitled, From Paradise Lost to Paradise Regained. The book had many drawings of Adam and Eve, she pointed out that Adam and Eve did not have belly buttons, "Because they were created by Jehovah, not given birth by a parent." The serpent, she introduced as: the Devil, Satan, Satan the Devil, and Lucifer. The artwork was interesting and went along with the chapters. We skimmed and scanned the entire book building our appetite for our Bible education, and the first lesson taught--was how to underline paragraphs, "Mark up those books. They are not sacred. Write notes in the margins." We saw how she marked her book and we began to mark our. The second lesson taught--answer the questions at the bottom of the page verbatim.

The first doctrine introduced to us was a quotation from Jesus which remained in my subconscious, which is recorded in the New World Translation of the Holy Scriptures, in the book of John, chapter 15 verses, 17-27:

"Seventeen, ‘These things I command YOU, that you love one another.’ Eighteen, If the world hates YOU, YOU know that it has hated me before it hated you.’ Nineteen, If YOU were part of the world, the world would be fond of what is its own. Now because YOU are no part of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, on this account the world hates YOU. Twenty, Bear in mind the word I said to YOU, A slave is not greater than his master. If they have persecuted me, they will persecute YOU also; if they have observed my word, they will observe YOURS also. Twenty-one, But they will do all these things against YOU on account of my name, because they do not know him that sent me. Twenty-two, If I had not come and spoken to them, they would have no sin; but now they have no excuse for their sin. Twenty-three, He that hates me hates also my Father. Twenty-four, If I had not done among them the works that no one else did, they would have no sin; but now they have both seen and hated me as well as my Father. Twenty-five, But it is that the word written in their Law may be fulfilled, They hated me without cause. Twenty-six, When the helper arrives that I will send YOU from the Father, the spirit of the truth, which proceeds from the Father, that one will bear witness about me; Twenty-seven, and YOU, in turn, are to bear witness, because YOU have been with me from when I began."

"The purpose of reading these scriptures, is to let you know--Christians are persecuted, and you will be also tested to your faith. There has been incidences throughout history of God's people being put to death and tortured for the sake of the good news. The Christians were blamed for the burning of Rome. Even during the first and second world wars Jehovah's Witnesses were put in prison, tar and feathered, and ran out of town. Jesus was killed so as footstep followers of Jesus we can expect to be ridiculed and made fun of. When your family and friends find out that you are studying the Bible you will be laughed and told not to study God's word. The Society wants to impress the importance of each person, as individuals to carry out the instructions given by Jehovah through his earthly representatives," explained Mrs. Franklin. I was impressed with what I heard and became all ears as she reached down, opened her book bag, and took out a book."Let me show you from the Qualified to be Ministers book," she said flipping to the spot where a piece of notebook paper stuck out, "here it is on page 156 paragraph 5. We need to accept God’s organization as the source of all our spiritual knowledge no matter what anybody says differently," she said and then began reading:
"‘The first essential for study is the right condition of mind and heart, appreciating that Jehovah grants understanding only to the meek, and not to the stiff-necked. If we have love for Jehovah and for the organization of his people we shall not be suspicious, but shall, as the Bible says, ‘believe all things,’ all the things that the Watchtower brings out, inasmuch as it has been faithful in giving us a knowledge of God’s purposes and guiding us in the way of peace, safety and truth from its inception to this present day.’"My brain was in a spin due to what had been stated over the past hour, her explanations and answers, as well as the paragraph burned into my ten year old mind, and at that moment, a feeling of us against them possessed me. I took those scriptures and counsel to heart and deep down even though it would be years before I dedicated my life to Jehovah I had become the clay in the potter’s mold and formed a mindset, that any opposition to this group validated it, an enemy of God.

The following week Mrs. Franklin brought her two daughters with her. The older, Janet resembled her mother: tall, lean, strawberry blonde, fair complexion, and an exquisite specimen of Jehovah’s handiwork. Her sister, Diana was the complete opposite: Short, chunky, dark brown hair that complemented her dark complexion and her bright smile melted my heart.

They were the girls who moved into town during the past school year. They were different and soon word spread throughout school about their weird position on repeating The Pledge of Allegiance, singing Happy Birthday and exchanging Valentines. Yes, they were the girls everyone made fun of behind their backs, laughing, pointing, and whispering, "Those girls don’t stand up for The Pledge of Allegiance. You know they are Geeehovah’s or something like that. They don’t celebrate Christmas, birthdays or anything."

That is all we knew about them, and here they are standing in our house. The study went well with them there, and they became regulars throughout the summer and well into autumn as we started the new school year in September then November arrived and we were out of school for Thanksgiving. Uncle Russ and Aunt Ginny arrived as they always did to have dinner with us. It was our Thanksgiving tradition. We would eat dinner then go in search for a Christmas tree, tie two on the roof of their car, one for them and one for us.

We returned home and Buck and I dragged our tree into the house, stood it in the living room corner opposite the door. Uncle Russ finished retying their tree and came into the house wanting a snack. We all made "Dagwood Sandwiches" from the leftovers and visited while making more messes in the kitchen, and then they left.
Buck and I were stuck with the dishes, and before we finished the kitchen there was a knock on the door. We ran from the kitchen and saw Mrs. Franklin’s head and shoulders leaning into the living room through the open door calling out, "Helen, Helen, you home?"

Before we could say anything, she let herself in as she always did. Mama appeared from her bedroom and returned Mrs. Franklin’s inquiry, "Yes I am, and how are you. We just got the kitchen cleaned up from Thanksgiving." Mama’s comment went unanswered as the rosy smile disappeared from Mrs. Franklin’s face as she saw the eight-foot Christmas tree.

"Helen, are you planning to celebrate Christmas? I thought we covered the holidays and how Jehovah felt about honoring only him."

"Well, Mrs. Franklin," Mama said. "Jesus is God’s son and I’m sure he won’t mind this one time."

"Helen, why don’t we drop the study until after the holidays? It will give you time to consider what we have studied." Mama agreed to the suggestion, then sat down and motioned toward the head of the table where Mrs. Franklin usually sat to conduct the study. Mrs. Franklin sat down opened her Bible and started giving a lecture about the need to become regular at the meetings. She reasoned we could receive more understanding of what Jehovah wanted from his people through his Earthly Channel, the Faithful and Discreet Slave Class, who dispensed knowledge at the proper time. The meetings are the only place where there was an interchange of faith and where God’s Holy Spirit is.

Mama promised her we would be there on Tuesday night for the book study. After Mrs. Franklin left we took the Christmas tree from the corner, placed it in the stand, and started decorating it all the while listening to Mama complain, "What audacity that woman has, come barging in here on a holiday which she doesn’t celebrate and lecturing me about celebrating Christmas in my own house." We continued to trim the tree as it brushed softly against the white ceiling with every bobble we cause as we loaded the branches with lights, tinsel, snow, candy canes, and shimmering glass ornaments. It stood proudly in final evolution as Buck crawled behind it arranging the cotton snow and the glimmer of the lighting was breath-taking when Buck plugged in the lights. Mama continued to complain and make a fuss out of the run in with Mrs. Franklin.

It was now after midnight, Mama went into the kitchen and made brownies, turned on the radio and the WHNY disk jockey, Gene Striker, welcomed all the night owls to the first Christmas program, " Tonight we are going to rock with Elvis and play this entire Christmas album. So hang in there, here’s a word from Eisworth Motors, so keep groovy, and we’ll be right back." Eisworth’s commercial was the typical small town wannabe big city dealership trying to give away a turkey for a road test. Gene’s voice rose as the commercial trailed off. "Yes sir, if y’all don’t have a turkey, go get one from my good friend Ellis Eisworth," Dean chuckled from his play on words. "N-o-w, here's my boy Elvis as promised. Santa Bring My Baby Back to Me began to play and we continued to put the finishing touch to the tree as Elvis sang every song with out a commercial break.

Synopsis

As a former elder and minister of thirty years with Jehovah's Witnesses, Rags Walker brings his saga to life in THE DREAM PUSHERS: CAPTIVATED BY A SYSTEM OF DECEIT which addresses the subtle symptoms of this social-religious crisis in a completed creative nonfiction manuscript of approximately 100,000 words. It shares a love story--not a conventional love story between two people, though it begins with two young lovers and blossoms into a deeper love with "the system" as the couple become mesmerized by the matrix of dreams and deceit.They are put to a test when their first born son is diagnosed with Lymphatic Leukemia,and their youngest daughter rejects their dream world and enters a self-made libertine lifestyle.

Rags Walker resigned his minister's position twelve years later after his son passes away and stumbles upon a contradiction between the regime's core chronological belief and an ancient history book's quote from the Babylonian Cuneiform Tablets. If the scholarly work is accurate--then the entire dream is false. Rags scrambles to re-enforce the regime's doctrine and his sanity, but, with the click of the mouse, Josephus - The Antiquities of the Jews reinforces the scholarly chronology, and his faith is shattered and his dream world explodes into a hellish nightmare--an Orwellian animal farm. His wife becomes deathly ill, and he devises a stratagem to save her, but it fails miserably--leaving him and his two sons facing a dilemma--either return to their Orwellian world and remain silent or expose it for what it is--a deceitful multi-billion dollar corporation hidden behind a system of ever-changing doctrines, dates, and prophecies.

Religious Cult Recognition Guidelines

"People who end up in cults are normal people. They are usually intelligent, open-minded and honest. They're willing to make sacrifices for the greater good of the group. They're interested in self-improvement and in the improvement of the world. The best kinds of people, in a way, are targeted by cults. Their very decency makes them desirable as cult members," said Dr J W West, Professor of Psychiatry, University of California.

The web site http://www.religious.freeola.com/cults.htm, is a very fine research page and the following fourteen questions can help you recognize a cult.


1. Do they put the demands of the group before family, school, and interests?

2. Are they vague about what their beliefs are until you are in the group?

3. Does the leader demand unquestioning agreement or obedience?

4. Is the leader or leaders charismatic and claims special spiritual powers?

5. Does the group change your sleeping and eating patterns?

6. Does the group keep you in constant group situations and promote dependency?

7. Does the group feel that only they have spiritual truth and that all other groups and churches are wrong?

8. Do group members keep contacting you even after you have told them you are not interested?

9. Do they require proselytizing and religious harassment for the sake of gaining converts?

10. Deceptive recruitment: Do they refer to the "Church" by another name to avoid negative stereotype.

11. Mandatory tithing: Members are required to donate a certain percentage of income or time and may be shamed into giving.

12. Psychological and spiritual abuse: This may include strict obedience to leaders without questions, violation of confidentiality, dependency on the group and fear of reprisals for leaving it.

13. Have you been pressure to cut ties with family and friends and only associate within “God’s Organization”?

14. A religious cult may preach love while their actions show they punish cult members for not following the rules. Parents have “kicked their children out of their homes and implemented the shunning policy against them to a point that they are both spiritually and physical dead. Children will also execute this practice against parents who decide to escape or can no longer agree with the organizational policies.

In the words of Rags, "There is nothing worst than giving your entire life, body, mind to a religious organization which exudes the fruit of the spirit as the truth then later discover what you had put so much faith in was not God--but a fraudulent organization that became your god."

Glossary

To help understand the working of cults one must realize that each organization has its own terminology--buzzwords, hot-links that sets them apart and “protects” them from an outsider, and also triggers--certain words, phrases, and Bible scriptures used in daily conversations which set off a particular thought pattern or an action or reaction.

• EXAMPLE: We were taught that an apostate--via the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society's definition (one who turned away from the teachings of the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society) was evil, not worthy of living. They were dogs licking their own vomit and Jehovah is going to kill them at Armeggedon. The treatment is to shun them with contempt and considered them both physically and spiritually dead. It did not matter whether an apostate was family or friend, son or daughter, husband or wife, father or mother, if the person was referred to or proven to be an apostate, it triggered the feeling of contempt and hatred to the extent--if stoning was legal, we would stone an apostate to death in the manner discribed in the Old Testament.

The following words and phrases are used by the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society.


A
Anointed-144,000 those who are chosen by God for heavenly life.

Apostate-Any baptized follower who questions, doubts, leaves, or disagrees with the scriptural understanding of the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society.

Auxiliary Pioneers- make a commitment to do 50 hours of field service for a given month.

Association of brothers- Loyal baptized members


B
Bethel-125 Columbia Heights, Brooklyn, NY multi-plex area where volunteer workers reside and location of Gilead Missionary School.

Body of Elders-Male members who are the teachers within the Local congregations.

Book Study Overseer-Male members who are the teachers in charge of weekly Bible studies.

Bride of Christ-Little Flock,(these constitute the ones who go to heaven) the remnant, the 144,000.

Brooklyn-Refers to any and all Watchtower facilities located at 125 Columbia Heights, Brooklyn, NY


C

Christ's Presence-The invisable presence of Jesus in 1914 when he return to Earth after casting Satan out of the heavens.

Chronology (May change upon discretion of the Society)
1914 "(C.E.) ends of Gentile Times

line of kingdom rulers interrupted, 607 B.C.E. …..Ezekiel Chapter 21 verses 25-27

"Seven times" to pass until rule restored. …..Daniel Chapter 4 verses 32, 16, 17
Seven=2 x 3.5 times, or 2 x 1,260 days. ….. Revelation Chapter 12 verse 6, 14; Chapter 11 verses 2, 3.

A day for a year. [Makes 2,520 years] ….. Ezekiel. Chapter 4 verse 6; Numbers chapter 14 verse 34

To run until Kingdom's establishment. …..Luke Chapter 21 verse 24; Daniel Chapter 7 verses 13, 14

Circuit Overseer- Male member who is in charge of production of Circuit assemblies


D
Disfellowship- Judicial action of removing a person from the congregation and begins the act of shunning which is a mind set and treatment that the disfellowshipped person is dead both spiritually and physical and referred to as: "a dog who returns to its own vomit."

District Overseer- Male member who is in charge of a district assembly production.

Discipling-Making disciples.

Discipling-(Incorrect pronunciation for disciplining) Training by judicial action (public,or private rebuke,disfellowshipping,and marking.

E

Everlasting life- life sustained by God- the angels, demons, (in heaven or the spirit world Tartarus) and those who survive Armageddon into the New System, Earthly Paradise, New World


F
Faithful and Discreet Slave-Policy setters Channel Of God, God's Channel
Governing Body

Field service report- Records one's proselytising activity

Formal witnessing- proselytizing from house-to-house(the standard practice of preaching.)

Farm-Wallkill, NY


G
Gehenna- Symbol of Complete Destruction

Get-Togethers- parties, any activity out side of congregational meetings and studies.

Gilead Missionary School- missionary school

Goat-Any unbaptized person who dose not agree with the teachings of the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society

God’s Channel- Governing Body

Governing Body- God's Channel

Great Crowd- those who have the hope of living on a paradise Earth forever


H
Hell-The grave

Hours-Mandated time one must spent in proselytizing (may change upon Society's discretion

House-to-House-Manner of working a territory.

Honest hearted people-Individuals who accepted home Bible studies.


I

Immortality- life not sustained by God. Jesus, and the 144,000
Informal witnessing- covert chit-chat to pad ones field service report (i.e. casual conversation leaning toward religion.)

International Bible Students Association Brooklyn, New York, U.S.A.

Independent Thinking-Running ahead of theocratic order.


J
Jehovah's Chosen Organization- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses

Jehovah's Organization- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses

Jehovah's People-Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses


K
Kingdom- Heaven or Earth

Kingdom Hall- Building in which worship is held.

Kingdom Proclaimers- Those who proselytize.

Kingdom Publishers- Those who proselytize.


L
Little Flock- these constitute the ones who go to heaven, the remnant


M
Making Disciples-Proselytize

Marking-Covert action against a publisher who is deemed weak or leaning toward worldly things.There is not any association with the marked person except at the Kingdom Hall.

Ministerial Servants- Male members who carry out non-spiritual Kingdom Hall duties.

Missionaries - Same as other religions sent to foreign countries to preach, but obligated to proselytize for minimum of 130 hours a month.


N
New Order- under the 1,000-year reign of Christ when the Earth has returned to a paradise condition

New System- under the 1,000-year reign of Christ when the Earth has returned to a paradise condition.


O
Other Sheep- Great Crowd- those who have the hope of living on a paradise Earth forever.


P
Paradise- Earth

Pioneers- Those who pledge to proselytize

Publisher- one who proselytizes.

Publisher Record- The service activity of a baptized publisher.


Q
Qualified- morally and spiritually clean


R
Regular Pioneer- make a commitment to perform about 70 hours of field service each month, but the yearly requirement is 840 hours of field service.

Remnant- the remainder of the 144,000


S
Service- Public proselytizing, either formal or informal

Special Pioneers- assigned by the Branch to take on special work, such as publishing in remote areas. 130 hours a month in the public ministry.

Soul- "A living creature, human or animal; life as an intelligent person, other uses Hebrew, (ne'phes; Greek,(psy.khe)New World Translation of the Holy Scriptures page 1642 Published by Watchtower Bible and Track Society of New York, Inc.


T
Territory map- section of area that will be worked on a particular day.

Time Card- A form turned in monthly to the Service Overseer tallying the time spent proselytizing.

The following "T" terms are interchangeable:

The Only True Religion- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Chosen Organization- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses, Jehovah's Organization- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses
Jehovah's People-Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses

The Organization- The Only True Religion- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Chosen Organization- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses, Jehovah's Organization- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses
Jehovah's People-Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses

The Society- The Only True Religion- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Chosen Organization- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses, Jehovah's Organization- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses
Jehovah's People-Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses

The True Organization-The Society, The Only True Religion- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Chosen Organization- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses, Jehovah's Organization- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's WitnessesJehovah's People-Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, Jehovah's Witnesses

Theocratic Order-Instruction comes from Jehovah to Jesus, to the Faithful and Discreet Slave, to the district overseer to circuit overseer, to the local congregations, to the congregational Elders, to the congregations to the male members (Brothers,) female members (Sisters)


U
Unbaptized Publishers- those who proselytize before being baptized.


V


W
WTBTS- Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of New York

Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania


X


Y


YHWH- Tetragrammaton symbol for Yahweh or Jehovah

YOU typed in all capitals- Plural, more than one person


Z
Zeal- abnormal verve for the Organization used in a manner of being a zealot or fanatic.


IMPORTANT DATES AND FIGURES

144,000-The number who are going to heaven from the Earth. Little Flock, the bride of Christ, those destined for heavenly life, the Faithful and Discreet Slave,Policy setters,Channel Of God.

1914 (C.E.) ends of Gentile Times (Refer to Bible book Matthew chapter 24 verse 3)

These are just a fraction of words or phrases used to help the reader understand how the pure language was used to recognize the level of maturity possessed by a brother or sister.

The organization continues to grow and evolve new words and it is up to the individual to keep abreast of the evolution of new light, new expressions, and new terminology. We were told, "Jehovah’s Organization is a progressive society and if you do not progress with it, it will leave you behind.”

Bibliography

• Beyond Jehovah Witness: The Watchtower Indoctrination Process by Timothy Campbell
• When you are Deceived, Who is at Fault by Lorri MacGregor
• Shaun's Research http://shaun.stormloader.com/mystory.htm
• http://www.docbob.org/
• Crisis of Conscience by Raymond Franz published by Commentary Press, Inc.
  
  Published material by Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of New York
• Watchtower
• Awake!
• Watchtower Bible and Tract Society CD Rom
• Qualified to be Ministers
• New World Translation of the Holy Scriptures
  
  The "fair use act" has been applied throughout this blog in order to use original quotes and excerpts in a fair and balanced argument applied by the principles of journalism.
  
  
  
  
  
  

Acknowledgments

Rags Walker was introduced to the beliefs of Jehovah’s Witness in 1955 at the age 10. The teachings were so different from his Southern Baptist background.

Rags had never heard any preacher condemned any person to hell no matter how terrible they were; so, the idea of Heaven being a place for the exceptional good people and those who fell short of the glory of God was destined to live on the earth forever, and the wicked people are destroyed without a hope of the ressurection made better sense than everybody who died went to Heaven.

The preaching from door to door, the persecution, and belittling of the Jehovah’s Witness played along with the scriptures, which Jesus said, "If they hate you, know that they hated me before you."

It was easy to return to the Witness teachings later in life as he began his search for a better life for his family. His wife, mother, and he was baptized into the Witness belief system in 1972 and for the next thirty years they absorbed the teachings and he became an elder.

Throughout the years, the Society changed their viewpoint of scriptural teachings and they expected the "brotherhood" to unquestionably follow their lead and accept the "new light," as they tacked to-and-fro from new light to old light,back to new light; therefore,at this point I thank the owners of the following websites, research material and personal thoughts, evaluations and critical thinking:

Watchtower Bible and Tract Society of New York Inc. Without their publications, it would be impossible to prove the many historical scriptural changes that were set in place and mandated to follow, and it would be virtually impossible to assimilate over a century of data written without the help of those who have placed days, months, and even years in their research and written thesis.

http://www.macgregorministries.org/jehovahs_witnesses/false_prophecies.html
Watchers of the Watchtower World CD from

http://www.freeminds.org

http://wwwfac.worcester.edu/campusministry/cult.htm

http://www.macgregorministries.org/jehovahs_witnesses/false_prophecies.html

http://www.jehovahs-witness.com/6/137285/1.ashx

http://www.bibletopic.com/biblestudy/88c.htm