While growing up in Manhattan, I had always heard about this type of thing, but had never seen it in person. I had seen references to it in movies and on TV, and friends and acquaintances swear it’s happened to them, but I had always thought that they made it up as sort of practical joke on a city kid. I had dismissed it as a myth or an urban legend—like unicorns, alligators in the sewers, or that girl that had to go to the hospital because she got a frozen hot dog stuck somewhere.
The other day, when I got home and picked up my mail, I saw an odd looking envelope mixed in with a magazine and another envelope containing local coupons. This envelope caught my attention because it was a first-class letter sized envelope with both my address and the return address handwritten on the front. It looked like something that a friend would send me, except that I knew of no friends with the return name or at the return address. Additionally, it was addressed to “Joshua Madison”, and about the only people who use that form of my name are my parents and the I.R.S., neither of whom this envelope came from.
I was intrigued, but also weary. Visions of some long lost relative who left me a million dollars danced in my head; so did anthrax.
I slowly and carefully opened it. Inside was what appeared to be a pamphlet that had been folded to fit inside an envelope, and wrapped around it was a handwritten note. I was so focused on whether or not the note was really handwritten, or just printed to look handwritten, that I actually didn’t read it at first. I just felt it to see if I could feel the handwriting…and I could. It was a real handwritten note from a stranger, addressed to me.
I started to read a bit. The person who wrote it wanted to tell me that they were a volunteer in my area, that they were unable to reach me in person, and “was hoping to share some positive thoughts with you.”
Oh boy.
I could see where this was going, so I decided to finish the rest of it while sitting on the throne dropping some kids off at the pool.
I continued to read about how life may feel like a hamster wheel, and how you can be famous or wealthy one day and lose it all the next, but luckily, the enclosed magazine could make me feel truly successful, so successful that even if I were to lose everything I wouldn’t feel as though I’ve somehow failed.
I opened the little magazine and it was called “Awake!”. I looked at the table of contents and noticed a very slight religious tone to the articles, such as “How Does God View Aids to Worship?”, and “Was It Designed? The Navigational System of the Butterfly”, and “Young People Ask How Can I Improve in My Prayers?”
Oh, this is so not for me.
But before I threw it out, I was curious about who really sent it. I figured it would be the Mormons, or maybe that Scientology thing. I looked around the table of contents but couldn’t find anything that obviously spelled out who was responsible. I flipped the pages a bit and found the publishing information. It was published by some outfit called, “The Watchtower Bible and Tract Society”.
“Wait, that sounds familiar,” I thought. “Where do I know that name from?”
My mind started accessing information pathways that hadn’t been used in some time. For some reason, the Brooklyn Bridge popped into my head, followed by a building in Brooklyn, then…
“Oh my god! Could it be?! Is this them?!!” I ejaculated.
As quick as I could, I got to my computer and looked it up. It was.
IT WAS!!!
It was published by the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and this letter and magazine must be the Manhattan equivalent of them knocking on doors. It’s really real. Perhaps everything everyone told me, and what I had seen in movies and on TV, were real as well? It took 35 years, but the Jehovah’s Witnesses finally made contact.
I just hope I don’t get more of this crap.
Update: Almost forgot…the return address from the envelope is about 12 blocks North from me, and I walk by it all the time, but I never knew there was a Jehovah’s Witness hall there.
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LOL. That was a good one. At first I thought you’d received a chain letter from the way the story was unfolding. You’re not going to believe this but I actually live right near a Jehova’s Witness temple and they come around ALL the time. Seriously. You’d think that they would give up on me by now. So congratulations, you now appear to be conversion-worthy.
And I loved the line about “sitting on the throne dropping some kids off at the pool”. OMG I’d never heard that one before – ROFLMAO
Ha ha this is very funny. They used to come to my door and I would tell them I was Jewish. I learned that technique from my mother. We’re not Jewish. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Anyhow, these characters are becoming increasingly clever with their religious messages. On Halloween, the greatest holiday ever, I got a pamphlet on my car about some kid who was hit by a car on Halloween because he went trick or treating. As if to say both tricks and treats are the product of devil. I beg to differ. I call shennanigans on their whole recruitment process.
Well Joshua, now that I live in Suburbia and am a stay-at-home Mum (much to your amusement), I get regular visits from Jehovah’s. It’s coincidental that you sent me this link now, because just yesterday (well, my Wednesday) at 10am my doorbell rang. I was going to pretend not to be home as I usually do when I am still in my pjs and haven’t brushed my hair, but my darling little boy was screaming in delight at the prospect of a visitor so I had no choice but to put on a dressing gown and answer the door. I could see unfashionable old lady clothes through the window and thought it was my mother-in-law. Oh how the rage brewed inside me at that thought. I opened the door and it was an old lady and a young woman. <insert profanity>. They offered me their little pamphlet and I politely declined as I had already read it and thought it would be environmentally unfriendly of me to accept another. The older lady smiled and said that as it’s nearly Easter they are celebrating the rebirth of Jesus (no, not the pizza delivery guy)… blah blah blah. I thanked them kindly for their time and mentioned that my in-laws are religious and we celebrate the holidays with them. Jehovah’s are more pushy than used car salesmen! I finally got rid of them. My whole day was ruined just by the principle of it.
I wish I could be like my brother who told them he was busy preparing the goat to sacrifice to Satan, so please come back later.
Nice story. JW’s publish two magazines called Awake and the Watchtower.
Josh- they have knocked at my door a few times. And I am regularly bombarded by them handing out Awake magazines at the train station.
I’ve NEVER heard of this before. “Dropping some kids off at the pool”. Love it!
And did you notice that JW is virtually the same as JM?
And isn’t Joshua the password in War Games? (and why they needed the password when they could have just unplugged the darn thing is still a mystery).
Finally, we have JW over on this side of the pond and they pop by every so often. Over here they’re polite and take “not interested” really well. They don’t hassle you at all.
Ah, the JW’s. Even here in the frozen North they appear on the doorstep to spread their word. They come in numbers about equal to the fresh-faced, pimple-riddled boys called “Elder” by the Mormons, but the JW’s arrive with kids in tow. Presumably so they are less likely to get shot at.
A few years back I painted a sign with the Watch Tower emblem enclosed in one of those big red circles with the slash through the middle.
I can’t show you a picture of it because, evidently, it was too popular to stay at the end of my driveway. It was stolen.
However, friends have reported seeing it appear on other gates and mailboxes all over our zipcode. It never seems to stay in one spot long. Perhaps it will show up in Manhattan.