Life as a Jehovahs Witness
For over forty years I was one of Jehovah's Witnesses. I left the organisation (for reasons that will become apparent in future blogs) a few years ago or to use JW parlance I 'drifted away'. Hopefully this blog will give an insight into what it's like to be a member of this strange and often misunderstood religion. I will begin in the mid 1970's in a small mining town in the English North Midlands. I'm eight years old, dressed in a suit and tie and carrying a briefcase almost as big as me. In the briefcase you would find a barely worn bible, some Watchtower and Awake magazines, a pen (heavily chewed at one end) and a grubby S8 (a form to mark down all the 'not homes' and any house number where the resident showed even a modicum of interest in the JW message). As I walked down yet another weed lined concrete path towards yet another battered council house door my father uttered the most frightening words I had ever heard; "You have a go ...