A Sinister Start for the Governing Body

When the idea of a governing body was first proposed to Knorr and Franz, they protested. It meant the “Governing Body” – and not the president – would have control of the Organization’s doctrines and policies. Although he and Franz were powerless to stop the change, Knorr insisted that more hardcore members be appointed. Seven of Knorr’s “yes men” were called in to Bethel from outside assignments and asked to serve on the new Governing Body…

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Brother Knorr, I’m leaving Bethel!

So, young Jehovah’s Witnesses, do you think in order to serve Jehovah that your best move is to volunteer for service at the Brooklyn Bethel or in Patterson, New York? Most young JWs think so and many do apply for Bethel service.

But is Bethel the “holy headquarters” of Jehovah’s Witnesses? What’s it really like to rub elbows with officers of the Watchtower Society and the Governing Body? Dick Kelly describes his brief time as a Bethel volunteer and his face-to-face encounter with the Society’s then president, Nathan H. Knorr. Dick will assure you that he’s not alone in what he saw and experienced while he was there. His take on life at Bethel will expose facts about what really went on that may shock readers who think that serving there is really about being surrounded by and working with “loving” and “spiritual” brothers and sisters.

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Hard Knocks

It happened over sixty years ago. And still, I hear those booming knocks at my front door. They weren’t ordinary knocks, as they set in motion a series of events that dramatically altered the rest of my life.

Before taking my afternoon naps, Mama would read a story from my favorite comic book. Her animated delivery of Little Lulu’s adventures, finagling her way into the boys-only club or Lulu’s imaginary tales of Old Witch Hazel was the best part of my nap time routine. On one particular day, I was awake in bed for a long time, thinking about Lulu and how she had out foxed Tubby and Iggy into getting them to admit her into their exclusive club.

I had just fallen asleep when I heard a hard “knock, knock, knock” at the front door. Knocks so loud, I heard them clearly from the far back bedroom of our newly built bungalow-style home in West Los Angeles. It was November 1947,

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