Tag Archives: community

Learning to Live Together

This morning, I read an interesting but disturbing story on my favorite Amish-related site, Amish America. I recommend the site and story to you, but the short version is that a Wisconsin man is concerned about an Amish School located in a hazardous location due to blind hills and curves. He’s lobbying local authorities (somewhat unsuccessfully) to put in school warning signs on the road.

The Amish are aware of his efforts. An unidentified member of the Amish Community sent Jim Kostohrys (a retired police officer) a letter of appreciation.

The last line of that letter might be the real story here. It expresses appreciation and support for Kostohrys’ efforts.

“Let us live together in a respectful way.”

A large part of my appreciation for the Amish is their effort to keep things simple. That sentence is a simple but elegant example.

Our (non-Amish) system of problems-solving seems less than simple. In spite of the efforts and media attention, it appears little progress has been made towards taking steps to protect these young scholars.

Amish children and one room Amish schools are important. It doesn’t come as a surprise to me that more than one person has suggested moving the Amish school to a better location. That’s not a particularly simple solution, but it reflects the belief this is an “Amish Problem.”

It’s OUR problem.

“Let us live together in a respectful way.”

Do You Know Who I Am?

Before some spraying and scrubbing.

You don’t have to answer, but I hope you’ll wonder just a little bit. This is a gravesite stone in the “old” Abbot Village Cemetery across from the town hall. You can still make out the word “Baby,” but you can likely surmise this child lived some years ago. The stone is worn, covered with lichen, and discolored, so I guess we don’t know who this is—or was.

My goal is to encourage curiosity, not sadness. Particularly as we age, we do tend to think about “legacy.” Most commonly (and the dictionary supports this), we think of our legacy as the amount of money or property we leave behind. It’s one way we will be remembered. Gravestones are another.

This child, or perhaps more accurately the family, “left behind” this small stone. I was reminded of the child’s short life during the few hours I spent recently volunteering to help the Abbot Historical Society clean gravestones. I found “Baby” in the family plot I was offered as my project.

After some spraying and scrubbing, the special solution we used will continue to work, and hopefully, the stains will lighten.

As I worked, I learned a bit more about “Baby.” He was the infant son of George and Sara Bradman. While his lifespan isn’t documented with dates, based on his parents’ stone, he probably lived his short life on Earth in the mid-to-late 1800s.

I mentioned all this to a good friend in an email. Jack replied, “Everyone does their best to make life work… Keeping gravestones clean is a nice reminder of how the system works. Not a bad spiritual exercise.”

Without getting too theological, I hope Baby Bradman and his parents are pleased with my work. I think our little town of Abbot is a better place, not just because this cemetery will look better when the project is finished, but because we are showing that we care about our community and its legacy. The spiritual exercise and reminder of how the system works was a bonus.

But wait, there’s more! Spending a few hours with like-minded coworkers was enjoyable. Everything we needed was provided, including materials, tools, support, and encouragement. We all paused briefly when a passing car repeatedly blew its horn, and the driver leaned out the window, waving and yelling, “Thank you!”

This was one of those occasions when the work itself was the reward. If you live in Abbot, keep an eye and ear open for the next opportunity. You can also contact Brian at the Abbot Historical Society. I won’t be surprised if you join this effort for a few hours and decide to do more.

“We’re not tourists!”

Whenever I get a chance, I announce that “We’re not tourists!” Sometimes I’ll add “But we’re trying to look and act like them.” I have long said that when I’m among the Amish, I consider myself a guest, not a tourist.

One stop today was a “real” Amish store (owned, operated by, and containing Amish-related merchandise). I had a good time with the Amish girls waiting on me, trying to be at least mildly entertaining. I’m not sure I convinced them I wasn’t a tourist but we enjoyed some laughs together.

Needless to say I left with some books. I was a bit tempted by a black vest, but it required sewing on your own hooks and eyes. I’m not ready for that level of simplicity and tradition.

While we’re self-declared non-tourists, we do occasionally do touristy things. Today we opted to visit The Farm at Walnut Creek.

Janice feeding
Janice proves that food and friendship go together.

A highlight of the trip is an open wagon trip through a portion of the grounds where the animals have trained people to feed them. In addition to the “flat hand” suggestion, our Amish wagon driver explains that many of the four legged type prefer to have you drop the pellets on their tongues.

The assortment of furried and feathered friends is amazing. It’s quite an experience. Half the fun for me was watching the kids on our wagon.

As is often the case, there’s a back story. This could be about simplicity but it may also be a bit political. You have been warned. The farm has existed for over fifteen years and maintains more than 500 unique animals. (Not all are available for feeding by visitors.) Due to the nature of their operation, they are licensed by the U.S.D.A. Historically, that’s been a positive relationship.

Their license was due for renewal in May of this year and that meant reinspection by the U.S.D.A. The short version of the story at least has a fundamentally happy ending, but the inspection was conducted by inspectors who were less than qualified and obviously involved “government overreach.” The Farm did an excellent job of documenting the process and an even better job of organizing a campaign to support reasonableness. Even so, it cost the farm $50,000 to meet the requirements, some of which were “necessary” due to rule changes made after the inspection visit.

As I anticipate my ox-driving workshop I find myself wondering and worrying how many experiences (particularly traditional and historical ones) are becoming extinct.

At the grocery store next to the Amish store, we were able to buy some whole milk. It’s actually not about the milk, really. It’s about having the choices and options. I may not want hooks and eyes but I do like whole milk.

First Impressions…

Our first full day here included more driving–as if we haven’t done enough already. Actually, it was fun to get a sense of the area and “the lay of the land.” It may take a little more time to reach some conclusions. It’s definitely different than when we were here decades ago. But what places aren’t?

There’s always a tendency to compare this area (Holmes County, Ohio) to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. I’m not sure I’m ready to do that, but I can offer a few first impressions. The advantage of offering first impressions is that they are just that—impressions. The rest of the week here will hopefully confirm their validity and increase our understanding.

Perhaps the most worthy of note is the prevalence of bicycles—especially e-bikes. Their use is certainly not limited to the Amish, but it’s a common form of transportation among the plain people. There are a number of variations, and it’s not unusual to see various forms of “trailers,” including kid carriers. At one point, we encountered an entire family–each on their own bike, with Mom hauling a trailer containing the youngest.

We’ve seen far fewer buggies, although there seems to be a wide variety of types. One that was particularly notable resembled a Conestoga-style wagon containing an entire family. They were all waving wildly at us.

(We later learned there had been a wagon train “parade” of sorts through the area recently, so this may not have been a typical mode of transportation.)

I often note that any generality about the Amish is going to be false, so I’m not suggesting an overall trend. Some communities/districts do not permit any type of bicycle, and scooters are begrudgingly used. The underlying concern is maintaining a sense of community and a commitment to it.

Another tempting first impression is that the Amish here are a bit more extroverted. I won’t attribute it to tourism because Lancaster County is equally dependent on visitors. Note that I did not say “friendlier.” It’s more a case of who smiles first.

During my walk last night, I encountered a couple who were weed-wacking. He was doing the high bank; she was concentrating on the ditch at the bottom. As I expected, they didn’t stop, but they each glanced my way and smiled. Since I was closer to the woman, I teased, “He’s getting ahead of you.”

I later realized that, in spite of her nod and smile, I had made a very Englisch (non-Amish) observation. They were getting the work done. They were not competing, nor were they likely even conscious of who might be working faster or harder.

There’s something to be said for that.

A Conversation That Matters

I’m honored to be part of a powerful collaboration to confront escalating suicide rates. RSU 19 Adult Education, American Legion Post 73, and I are joining hands to offer a free workshop to raise awareness and encourage the prevention of this growing healthcare crisis.

It is up to all of us—educators, veterans, families, and community members—to unite in this significant cause. Through education, support, and open dialogue, we can contribute to reducing the stigma associated with mental health issues and work towards a future where everyone feels valued, supported, and empowered to seek help.

Pre-registration is strongly encouraged by calling RSU 19 Adult Education at 368-3290. Doors open at 5:30 pm and the Post will be providing light refreshments.

For additional information and FAQ regarding the workshop content and attendance visit this page.