Chapter 32 New Boy 50 years a Watchtower slave

by new boy 7 Replies latest jw friends

  • new boy
    new boy

    Chapter 32

    Jerking off on the Subway

    The first guy I ever saw who was really pissed off with the Jehovah’s Witnesses and especially Nathan Knorr was a guy we called "Mr. Frog." We called him that, because he always wore a green suit. He would stand in front of the 124 building, just before lunch with hundreds of Bethelites swarming around him. His fist was clinch raised to the heavens, screaming at the top of his lungs, on the evils of Knorr and his organization. Many of new boys wanted to kick his ass.

    “Mr. Frog” was really Bill Norris. The story goes that he went through Gilead but did not graduate and while there got engaged to another Gilead student. Knorr was not happy about this at all and sent Bill’s betrothed out on assignment to some place in Africa, there by splitting up the couple forever. Of course, the girl could have chosen Bill over her assignment but we all know what the organization can do to normal human emotions, feelings and attachments. At any rate, he married another woman. However by flunking out of Gilead and then losing the love of his life it took it took a toll on his marriage. After having two children he left his wife and moved to New York to make a career out of tormenting Nathan Knorr and the Society. The funny thing is that his ex-wife remarried in the 70's and by the mid 90's she, her husband and Bill’s son all left the organization!

    There was this one crazy old women, we called her "Lady Margret." She was fat and ugly and looked like she hadn’t taken a bath in years. She lived in "The Margret Hotel" before it burned down which was next door to the 107 building.

    She would follow us Bethelites down the street, yelling obscenities and every foul name you could think of. “You mother fuckers.” She would yell out. Not one sentence didn't have a curse word in it. One day I was walking to the factory, just a month before I left Bethel. She was there, standing on the corner. She pointed her boney finger at me and with a strange look in her eye said. "You boys want any soup? You boys want any soup? You boys want any soup?” I looked over to my friend and said. "I don't believe it, it’s the first time in four years she hasn't cursed at us." The very next second after I said that, she said. "You.....black bastards what any soup or not?” We just laughed,

    Yes, you saw it all in New York and especially on the subways. I saw old guys masturbating right on the train in front of a car load of people. He was in his own world for sure.

    One late night coming back from a double feature on forty second street this four hundred pound black guy who looked totally crazed got on the train wearing only a pink tutu. You just knew he wasn’t going to a costume party. It was hard not to stare but you never wanted to make eye contact with those people.

    Don Breaux the circuit overseer I admired so much was a "golden boy" for sure. I found out his job at Bethel was the 124 receptionist. So his job there was welcoming all the tour groups that were coming to check out the lord's house. No factory or machines for Don. I told him years later. "Don you were never at the real Bethel." He smiled, he knew what I meant. Just before Don was leaving Bethel to get married he did make eye contact with the wrong guy. I cost him a broken nose. He told me that while he was sitting on the train one day he glanced up and caught a guy’s eye for a split second. A moment later the train pulled into a station. The guy jumped up out of his seat and walked over to Don. “What the fuck are you looking at?” Before Don could say a word the guy hit him as hard as he could in the face. It was probably the only time Don wasn't golden.

    We were hated my many of the locals there in Brooklyn Heights. The locals and the crazies all agreed they didn’t like us in the area. Sometimes people not in the Heights hated us too.

    We stuck out like a sore thumb. All these white twenty year olds dressed in our suits and ties with our over loaded book bags. Even in New York you could spot us a mile away.

    Ronnie Kleinman was sitting on a train coming back from a meeting one night. This big black guy with his five year old kid by his side stood up and walked over to Ronnie and stuck his finger in Ronnie’s face and looked over at his little boy and said. “Son this is whitey… you hate whitey!”

    There were lots of beggars on the trains too. One lady could role her pupils back in her head so all you could see is the white of her eyes. She had a cup in one hand and cane ion the other. She made great money.

    I didn’t get mugged in N.Y.C while I was there. The rule of thumb was if you were there for four years you would get mugged at least once in that time period. I came very close a few times.

    The factory area was a scary place late at night. If you couldn't find a parking space at 2:00 a.m. Monday morning you might end up over by the factory. Walking back from there, through the park was an adventure, good luck. The key was to walk really fast. You were always scanning at less two blocks away. If you spotted a group of strange people on a corner you would walk five blocks out of your way, to put as much distance between you and them as you could.

    One of the best defenses is looking and acting totally nuts! One time it looked like I was going to be totally cornered. I started screaming at the top of lungs. “Mother Fuckers come and get it Mother Fuckers!” It helped if you had a little saliva running out of my mouth too. My head was doing crazy gyrations. I swear that saved my life.

    Another time I was on this subway car by myself. Three teenagers come into on my car. Two from one end and one from the other end. There was no escape. I was by myself and looked like easy pickings. They started walking towards me. It was winter so I was wearing an army trench coat. When they were about 10 feet away, I put my hand under my coat, looking like I could have a gun on me, I grit my teeth and looked at them as if to say, you want to party, let’s go! They looked at each other and just keep on walking.

    No one wants to mess with crazy people. I don't.......do you? If you are going to mug someone, you want someone who isn't going to give you any problems.

    Sometimes on the subway we acted like we were crazy just for fun. A couple of times late at night we had fun with the commuters. Two or three guys would chase one guy from one end of the subway to the last car. We would corner the guy running to the last car and pretended to beat the crap out of him. People would of course be in shock. He would lay in a heap on the floor for a minute or two and then get up like nothing had happened. No one would try to help you of course. It’s New York City, forget about it.

    Besides almost getting mugged a couple of times. The closest, I came to getting hurt while at Bethel was in the summer in 1972, at the Allentown Pennsylvania “The Divine Ruler ship District Convention.”

    After a day of spiritual enlightenment, Jim Pipkorn and I went to this college bar for some beers. There were these college kids there that had their whole table full of these little empty 8 oz. green bottles. They looked, just like little bottles of ginger ale we used to drink as kids. So after having a few beers myself. I looked over at them and said..."Hey! What is 'Rolling Rock'? Some kind of soda pop?" These four jocks, got up and came over to our table and grabbed me, they would have bet the shit out of me, if it wasn't for Jim saying. "He is just a fool and an idiot, please leave him alone."

    There was a time when I was in "Little Italy." with Jim Pipkorn again. There was this really big festival going on there, just like in the movie "The Godfather II." Jim and I were sitting in this door way watching everything that was happening. I was looking out at the crowd and said with a smile on my face. “These are my people (because I'm Italian too). I love all these old three pound women with moustaches!" Just then I felt this liquid running down my head and face and all over my clothes. I looked up to see a big fat Italian lady with a moustache, pouring the wine from her glass out on top of my head. I never saw anyone laugh harder than Jim at that moment. It was me sticking my big foot in my month once again.

    A friend of mine was mugged in NYC. I guy pulled him down an alley and put a gun to his head. The mugger said “Give me your money or I’m going to blow your brains out.” My friend thought for a minute and said “You better shoot….one thing I know about New York you can live here with brains but you got to have money!”

    PS. I hope you don't mind "Sparky" I used you information about Bill Norris here.

  • compound complex
    compound complex

    Hey, New Boy:

    I recall much of what you wrote, especially the man in the green suit and Lady Margaret. I sometimes had to go out on my own in Manhattan and Brooklyn but was never mugged. Propositioned once, though, by a guy. Other than that, I think I was invisible.

    Like you, I learned not to make eye contact with anyone. We spent hours and hours a week on the subway. What a life. To make good use of my time on the train, I wrote letters to non-JWs to get in my time. Two to two-and-a-half-hour ride to and from meetings and service!

    Please clarify:

    "I love all these old three pound women with moustaches!" -- New Boy

    Thanks!

  • new boy
    new boy

    Sorry, three hundred pound women.

  • fulano
    fulano

    Great fun !!!

    I have written my missionary diary. I have translated it with Google but just don't have the time to put it in proper english. I wish I would have a volunteer.

  • Finally Left
    Finally Left

    Loved reading about the 300 pound woman! Thanks! I needed a good 😂

  • mann377
    mann377

    Old lady Margaret..........that brings back memories. She once came up to me and said: I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR FACE OFF WITH A RUSTY TRASH CAN LID !!!!!!!!!!!! Ah the good times.

  • tiki
    tiki

    Love these stories! What an insane life you guys led!

  • sparky1
    sparky1

    Old lady Margaret.........I remember a bunch of dogs licking the sores on her legs. Jesus Christ , the things we saw!

    P.S. - I don't mind new boy. Glad you kept the back story alive. Bills ex-wife died a few years ago. She was 88.

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