I too live in Midwest U.S. I think I saw you write that that's where you hail from.
JWs who came to the door, very young. First thing out of their mouths was asking if I knew where I'd end up when I died. As soon as I told them "No, and I don't believe that you know either." I was read the "hell" riot act.
I've spoken with several Christians who shun many mainstream churches (too much coffee shop flair, I think), or have been shunned by such churches (a little too "second coming" flair in at least one of those people's demeanor, I think), and they insisted that hell is real, and that I am going there based on my nonbelief.
On this very site there are plenty of posts that amount to Pascal's Wager type veiled threats. "What if you're wrong?"
How about mainstream churches in my area putting up signs about how hot hell is? Admonishing that one had better know where they will end up in the afterlife, etc. Even those little marquees outside of the church - those innocent little, non-sentient signs - are made to be in on it. Sometimes even stated like it's a big joke that Christians should be laughing about, relating the heat to fireworks in July, or stating that as cold as winter is in Dec., Jan., Feb., that one should rather be in that than in "the fires". All those foolish "sinners" burning in hell. I don't find such humor very funny.
My own mother-in-law and father-in-law, at least early on, were very keen on trying to get me to accept Jesus as my savior. When that didn't work, they would start to talk about hell, ask wasn't I frightened, etc. Mind you, these were people that did attend those coffee-shop-style churches avidly, and within the church walls one would never, ever hear them speaking about hell. There was no reason - they were among like-minded individuals. All Christians. I am the type of person they reserved that talk for. A nonbeliever. Which is why I don't think it matters much whether you think that your experiences are some kind of "norm". Perhaps the norm when pal'ing around with other Christians. You aren't like me. You don't say the types of things I am apt to say to Christians, and so you don't get the kinds of responses that I do. A sort of "Christian privilege", I suppose. Allows your glasses' tint to remain of the rose-colored variety.