Another anecdote from the tales of a former Jehovah's Witness: By Rayzorblade
We all have stories to tell about our Witness days, don't we?
Well, it occured to me, that I had one bizarre and rather unusual experience in the field service many moons ago.
This incident, I believe took place back in the winter of 1982/83. I was auxiliary pioneering in northwestern New Brunswick, Canada.
Now nevermind all the hullabaloo about the Americans and their hillbillies of Appalachia. Canada has a few real fire crackers too.
Now, the area I was in was very hilly, mountainous, and actually a part of the Appalachian chain of mountains that run from the southeastern United States to Atlantic Canada (New Brunswick and the Gaspe Penninsula of Quebec).
You run into all kinds out there. People who could show you tricks they could do with their tongues, and animals that would add and subtract. Yes, we saw many human feats worthy of "Believe it or Not".
On one call in particular, we were in a very remote area of western New Brunswick. Sort of a 'one road in - one road out' situation. I remember that it was winter, and there was tons of snow on the ground. I was out in the service with a few people, can't remember everyone who was there, but I recall that they were keen on going to this one big house at the end of an old logging road.
*The Banjos are playing....Maurice Boyer comes to mind*
Well it was pretty much determined, that ol' Rayzorblade was going to be the one to go to this house. I could see the apex of the old house way off down the road. The driveway was more of a two rut laneway, complete with deep crevices here and there. Enough to worry anyone concerned about the undercarraige of their vehicle. We'd wonder if the muffler and a few other items, gas tank, brake lines would somehow be visible in the rear view mirror. But we managed. At one point, 1 or 2 of us had to get out so that the car didn't sink.
Anyways, I decided to get out and walk towards the house.
As I approached, there were old wrecks all around the yard. Some of the cars and trucks off to the side of the house were from the 1950s. Old beat-up Chevy trucks, and old Plymouth Fury from the early 60s, with a border collie in the front seat. There was also some big old dumb dog (harmless), chewing on some big fluffy white thing closer to the doorway of the house.
When I got closer, I realized, this dog was eating a dead sheep.
He was wagging his tail at me, and continued right along with his frozen mutton. It was strange. There were dogs all over, some were barking, some were completely mental. One was chasing chickens. The border collie jumped out of the old Plymouth and followed me to the door. He was friendly, just curious.
I knock, and I hear some shuffling from the inside. The door opens, and I swear a man that rival Santa Claus came to the door. When he openned the door, the wafting of intense squallor filled my nostrils. It was pretty rank.
He was a jovial old man, with an allergy to soap and water. He had a huge beard and wore these old overalls that you'd see from episodes of the "Little Rascals". He chewed tobacco and would spit his reddish-brown froth into the top of an old wooden stove. So as I began my JW intro, he'd periodically lift up the iron lid on his stove and spit into the fire below.
The old man was friendly enough, and would tend to repeat his agreement with me about 'last days' etc., and he called to someone in the house. I could tell there was someone else in the house, but didn't hear a voice. It sounded like a few shuffling feet. Then from behind a door came this woman. I wasn't sure who she was: daughter, sister or wife?
Wife, it turns out. Then out from behind her, a little girl.
The woman, sad to say, had about 2 teeth in her entire head. She was quite rotund and uneducated. She was very nice, but just rather simple and didn't have much to comment upon. I sort of picked up from where I last left off, and she said something so funny, regarding the 'Last Days' and 'World Conditions'.
"you can see world conditions right here..."
I looked about wondering if she was baiting me or teasing me. She was dead serious. Honestly, the house stank something fierce. It was an odour I could not put my finger on (nor would I want to either), but it permeated the entire house.
We talked for awhile, maybe 20-30 minutes. These folks didn't get many visitors. You could tell, anyone coming to talk to them, was a real treat for them.
They grew tired of my bible banter and took the copy of the Awake & Watchtower. They began to go on about world conditions, from their viewpoint, things about 'whores' and 'prostitutes' in the big cities. Then they became a bit graphic about certain people and their unusual anatomy. At that point, I figured...time to go...lord knows they might SHOW me what they were referring to.
I remember exiting their home, and could hardly wait to get on the outside of this house. I remember the little girl, she couldn't have been any more than 5 or 6. Not in school, which was unusual. She was the prettiest little girl, not indicative of her parents features. Poor thing, living in squallor like that. It was sad.
As I returned to the yard, the same old dog was munching away on the previously said, sheep. The border collie jumped out of the old Plymouth and followed me happily down the road way where the JW car was. The other dogs were still chasing chickens and other wild birds in the yard.
As I walk gingerly along, not walking into ankle deep slurry in between the ruts in the driveway.
I reach the car with border collie in tow. I can see many smiles and possible relief that I made it out alive.
I open the door of the car, hop in...and right away, eveyone says: "Oh my goodness...what is that smell?"
I had to hop out. Little did I realize, the yard was full of cow/sheep entrails and manure. I lost my sense of smell from being inside that house. So, I had to walk through some of the snow to get the gunk off the bottom of my Witness shoes, and walk along side of the car until they backed out on to the paved highway. It was a scene almost out of Deliverance.
To make matters worse, after I hopped in, the smell from INSIDE the house had permeated my suit and coat.
The field service, pretty much ended right there and then. The smell on my clothes was autrocious. Everyone had the window open a crack all the way back up into the village where everyone dispursed. That was a 50-60 km. ride back up river. Poor souls.
I had to have my jacket/coat dry-cleaned. My pants/shirt and everything else had to be washed more than once.
I don't know why I remembered this story, but thought I'd have a bit of fun and share that with you.
Nevermind the Beverly Hillbillies or even the ones you read about in the USA, we got a few of 'm up here.
Sorry for the long read, it'd be neat to hear of some of your bizarre field service stories from long ago or not so long ago.
Smelling Zestfully clean: Rayzorblade.