My first time was to hear Cesar Chavez and meet him in person. He was on the West Coast and this was East Coast. I was very excited and afraid. Visions from the orange Paradise Lost book of priests feeding infants to an idol crossed my mind. It was comical. I had no idea how unique the place was. It was the 1960s. I was impressed that the priests were college graduates and wore jeans and sandals under their vestments. It was High Church bordering on Anglo-Catholic. There was a lot of kneeling, crossing, and standing. I was invited for Holy Communion. It took many years for me to go up b/c I was embarassed that I did not know the appropriate hand signals. I only had a back view.
There was a very upsetting incident a few months ago that ended up with my knocking on the Bishop's Door, demanding a meeting. His aide spoke to me for about 45 minutes. I was crying which was appropriate. Part of the drama was asking him if he had any idea what it was like for a JW co-ed to enter the front doors, let alone stay, and learn five or six Latin, Middle English terms for common items. He knew! I kept going on and on b/c I was upset. Do you think I was not afraid of Babylon the Great? Yet I stayed.
I did not do any research. The subway station was closed so I walked down a block and saw the signage for Chavez. It is creepy b/c this church kept me alive later in my life. It is the antiWitness place.
I wanted to go to church today. It is hard for me to wake up on a voluntary basis.