Along with three other special pioneers, I started work in Cork city. It was not easy to find a listening ear. At their Mass, the priests constantly warned against us, calling us “Communist devils.” Newspapers too warned against our activities.

One day a barber was trimming my hair using a straight (cutthroat) razor. In the course of conversation, he asked what I was doing in Cork. When I told him, he flew into a rage and swore at me. His hand was shaking with anger, and I had visions of walking out of the shop with my head tucked under my arm! What a relief to get out of his shop in one piece!

Mob Violence

Sometimes we had to face mob violence. For example, one day in March 1948, we were busy in the house-to-house ministry when a mob attacked my partner, Fred Chaffin. Pursued by the crowd, Fred ran to a bus terminus and appealed to a bus driver and a conductor for help. Instead, they joined in the attack. Fred ran farther up the road and managed to hide behind a high wall that bounded the priest’s house.

Meanwhile, I had gone for my bicycle. To get back to the city center, I took a side road, but when I emerged onto the main road, the mob was waiting. Two men grabbed my briefcase and threw its contents into the air. Then they began punching and kicking me. Suddenly a man appeared. He was a plainclothes policeman, and he stopped the attack, taking me and the attackers to the police station.

This attack provided a basis for ‘defending and legally establishing the good news.’ (Philippians 1:7) When the case came to court, the policeman who had rescued me, himself a Roman Catholic, gave evidence, and six individuals were convicted of assault. The case showed that we had a right to go from door to door and served as a deterrent to others who might think of resorting to violence.

At first it was considered too dangerous to send sisters as pioneers into places like Cork. However, it often seemed it would be better for sisters to call on interested women. So, just prior to this attack, the Society had assigned two fine pioneer sisters to Cork.

One place that epitomized the antagonistic attitude of many toward us was the town of Athlone. When concentrated witnessing began there in the 1950’s, priests arranged for all who lived in one part of the town to sign a petition saying that they did not want Jehovah’s Witnesses to call at their doors. They sent this to the government, making the work in Athlone very difficult for some years. Once a group of youths recognized me as a Witness and began to throw stones. When I positioned myself in front of a shop window, the proprietor invited me into his shop​—more to protect his window than to protect me—​and let me leave through a rear exit.