During the nineties, there was a big Mexican family that attended our congregation. While they were not financially well off, they often enjoyed having the friends over for gatherings in their large home. One memory I have is of a certain game they would play with large groups. Actually it was more of a trick. They called it “Broom-Ho.” I have no idea if anyone else has ever heard of Broom-Ho, and—no—I don’t think it was named after a prostitute who rides on a broom.
Imagine a large group of people sitting in the living room. Sister Oliveros (not the real name) comes in with a broom. She then instructs one of her young children to go into another room. Here we can be assured that the boy cannot see anything going on in the room, but he is still within earshot. Sister Oliveros then points the broom at one of the friends and shouts, “Broom-Ho!!” The child can be heard from the other room also crying, “Broom-Ho!” Then she points the broom at someone else, and the whole thing repeats itself. Finally, after about ten or twelve passes, she points the broom at someone, and asks, “Broom-Ho ovah whose head?” The child would shout, “Broom-Ho ovah Brother Johnson’s head!” And sure enough, he’d be right.
The whole object was to figure out how they were doing this. When you figured it out, you were supposed to excuse yourself from the game—without telling anyone why. The whole show would continue, with another kid leaving the room and another friend being the final “Broom-Ho” pointee. Every single time the kid would get it right. I tried my best to analyze this scam. Was the child peeking through a heating vent? Was another child acting as secret courier, delivering the right information to the kid in the other room? Did it have something to do with the way Sister Oliveros actually said the word Broom-Ho? Sometimes she said it with a down inflection, other times it went up, still other times her voice would quaver suspiciously. But no matter how hard I tried, I could not nail this dog and pony show! After each round, people who figured it out would drop out, with lips buttoned. It would all continue until the very last person finally figured it out. Guess who that was? You guessed it. Just call me Mr. Clueless.
This is how it worked. When Sister Oliveros came out with the broom, the child was still in the room. While she was looking in another direction, she would make sure the broom was pointing at one particular friend while telling her accomplice to get in the other room. It did not appear that she was pointing it at anyone, but the child knew whomever was closest to the end of that broom as he left the room, would end up being the Broom-Ho pointee. Crafty little twerps.
It all reminds me quite a bit of the process of leaving the Watchtower organization. At some point and for a variety of reasons, we figure it out. After finally allowing ourselves the right to honestly assess it, we see it for what it is. But unless we want to bring a world of pain upon ourselves, we’re not able to tell anyone about it. The lips are zipped, and we just have to hope our loved ones figure it out for themselves.
All those years I’d wondered what happened to certain ones. They weren’t disfellowshipped, weren’t disassociated; they just fell away… Yes, all those people who had formerly been so dedicated to the organization just fell away… I noticed how other friends would come up with explanations for such “falling away.”
“Well, you know they had that nice house and those two cars. They probably had to start working overtime to pay for all of it. Evidently they decided material things were more important than their relationship with Jehovah.”
“He once told me, before coming into the Truth, he always wanted to be a Baptist preacher. Maybe he just couldn’t get that idea out of his head. Pride can be a terrible thing.”
“Remember how they used to go out to eat a lot? “Lovers of pleasures, rather than lovers of God.” Tsk tsk tsk.”
The most memorable case of this sort was that of a fellow elder. He was in his early fifties and had been an elder for many years in another congregation, even serving as Presiding Overseer there. He was charismatic, friendly and energetic, gave wonderful talks. At first he asked not to give anymore talks. Then he asked to step aside as an elder. When we spoke to him, he’d state, “Brothers, all I can say is that I’d feel like a hypocrite if I continued. But I just love the friends.” This statement was of no use to us in trying to figure out what was going on. Thereafter he stopped attending meetings, went into hiding, and refused to make an appointment with us.
I concluded that he must have committed serious wrongdoing and couldn’t bring himself to confess. But why not?! This was a dedicated, energetic, zealous Christian elder. How could he just “fall away?” Well now I get it perfectly. Just like in a game of Broom-Ho, he figured it out. Substantial penalties for sharing it with others though, so mum’s the word.
All things considered, I’d rather be playing Broom-Ho than this game of Watchtower Hide & Seek.