In The Truth
In The Truth
Perfect Bound Softcover
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302 pages




Where love rules there is no will to power; where power predominates, there love is lacking.   Carl Jung ( 1875-1961 )


" This novel is an incredible journey of two young people, raised by Witness parents, who are on a quest for life and run away from home to escape their authoritarian control. It beautifully reveals the ultimate inability of shunning to dampen the spirits of those who love nature and love life . . .and people. Very well written. You won''''t be able to put it down!"  Randy Watters, Editor of the Free Minds Journal



Actual news.


July 17, 2003Calgary, Canada

Bethany Hughes, a Jehovah’s Witness, died after refusing life-saving blood transfusions. Bethany was 17.


March 10, 2003Newport, Oregon

According to police, Christian Lango, 29, feeling shame for being excommunicated from Jehovah’s Witnesses, killed his wife and three children.


January 17, 2003Oregon

Robert Bryant, expelled from Jehovah’s Witnesses, killed his wife, Jane, their four children and then himself.


October 2002 – Polk County, Oregon

Bimla Boyd was arrested in the shooting death of Robert Spencer. Charles Boyd, her ex-husband, died of an “undetermined” cause. He was depressed for weeks before his death because he and his former wife, Bimla, were expelled from Jehovah’s Witnesses in December 2001.   


            When an authoritarian, asocial religious sect intervenes into a family’s way of life the once harmonious, natural flow of daily living can be destroyed.  This novel shows the effect the WatchTower Bible and Tract Society (Jehovah’s Witnesses) has on two families by exposing the reality that dwells behind the Society’s façade.


                        Although the Jehovah’s Witness organization has over 6,000,000 members, 15,000,000 adherents and more than 94,600 congregations around the world the vast majority of the public is not aware of their eccentricities, which this novel has attempted to reveal.





Startled awake, the girl sat up in bed…the dream fading now.  She was in her bedroom, and she was alone.  Sighing, she dropped back to her pillow, pulling the sheet and blanket with her.  The pillow felt wet…she touched her cheeks.  She must have been crying.  Then she thought of him - the man that had been in her room last night.

At first, he stood next to her bed where she had to look up at him; at his sweat-stained, gray shirt and pants; his dark, matted hair; the perspiration that dripped down his face…a mannequin’s face, she had thought, glaring down with brown, unmoving eyes.  And his scent…a breeze from an open window had curled around him, and carried his smell to her, a mixture of sulfur and iron smoke.  Then he had said something…what was it?  Something like…like, “I put in a hard day’s work at the factory, get home tired and aching…but because I care, I’ll correct you when you need it.”

When it was over, she had huddled in her bed, her legs pulled up to her chest and wrapped in her arms, crying and rocking.  And the stinging!…she was lost in it.

Now, in the early morning hours before sunrise, she tried to forget the night.  She looked up from her pillow for the photograph of her brother, her father, and herself, but couldn’t see it.  Sitting up, she found that it lay flat on the bedside table, as if haphazardly placed.  She leaned over, picked it up, and set it upright.  Lying on her side, she stared at the photo, looking long and deep into the faces of her brother and her father.  She thought of when it was made, three years ago, when they were in the mall.  It was Dad’s idea, just walk in the studio, have it taken.  They were being silly, pushing up against one another, making faces for the camera.  It was so much fun.  Now, it seems so long ago…and Dad is far away.

Drifting in memories, she desperately fought the weariness that came over her now.  Unable to hold on, she let herself go and fell into a deep sleep, her right arm dropping behind her… behind her to rest against long, red tracks that striped her in a helter-skelter patchwork from her buttocks to her knees.

_ _ _ _ _

“Hurry now,” her mother called from downstairs.  “Breakfast is almost ready.”

With one last look in the mirror, Susan made sure her hair was properly brushed and her barrettes, one on each side, firmly in place.  Pulling at the blue ribbon beneath her collar, she tightened the bow.  The collar was pressed flat and she hoped it would keep the ribbon in place, at least until afternoon.  Unbuckling her belt, she pulled it tighter one more notch, pinching her stomach.  That’ll keep my shirttail in, she thought, then checking her shoelaces, she was ready.

Susan was tall and thin for fifteen…and with legs and arms that seemed to be fighting her all the time she was always bumping into things.  Desks at school, door jambs and corners everywhere bruised her thighs and elbows.  Her dark red hair went to her shoulders in a natural wave, her cream-like skin was flawless, and her face one could never forget: large, full lips; fine, prominent cheekbones; and big, blue eyes under long, dark eyelashes.

Grabbing her Bible and study guide, a pencil with the eraser nearly chewed away, sweater and mittens, she walked to the top of the stairs.  The rubbing of her jeans on the back of her legs made her flinch.  Still, she hurried.

There it was again, the emptiness.

The author was born in Georgia and attended university in Ohio. However, restless and bored, he soon dropped out, opting for a "real world" education. His work took him to the Northern, Midwestern, and Southern portions of the United States. He presently lives in Florida.


He has experienced first hand the WatchTower Bible and Tract Society’s (Jehovah’s Witnesses) methodology of member indoctrination and control. This realization unfolded for him when circumstances dictated he attempt to understand their design for living.


His study revealed various methods used by the Jehovah’s Witness hierarchy to “bring sheep into the fold”. However, the tactic of instilling emotional separatism (shunning, disassociation, etc.) in a convert to keep at distance family members critical of the Witnesses’ doctrine is one of the most heinous. This maneuver successfully allows instruction of a convert segregated from family influence. Thus the seeds are planted . . . and fertilized.


The author’s hope is that this novel, in its own way, will act as an informative causeway over the far-reaching waters of the authoritatively minded WatchTower Bible and Tract Society.     


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