The Amish seemed to have altered and enriched my life in recent weeks. The Miller family actually moved her in February, but I didn’t realize an Amish family had become a neighbor until a month or so ago.
It was the “Baked Goods” sign out on the road and the sudden appearance of horses and carriages outside of my window that tipped me and Maria off.
There were children with Amish hats and bonnets riding by in horse carriages; we started waving to one another.
It was not something I ever expected.
Of course, I went to meet them and became enthralled at how they live and began writing about them.
I got to know Moise and Barbara, right away, they were thoughtful enough to ride down to Bedlam Farm in one of their horse-driven carts and spend an afternoon with us. and tour our farm and farmhouse.
I offered to show him my blog and see the things I had been writing about him and his family and he said he would love to do that, and he read every piece and asked if he might bring some of his family down to read them also.
At the end of our reading together, a horse and carriage from his farm came trotting by my window and I grabbed my camera and took a photo. He asked to see it and smiled.
It was an extraordinarily intimate moment between two men.
I felt as if I had known Moise for years.
It also felt as if he and Barbara had come over as neighbors and left as friends.
Moise came over one day to ask me if I could ride him to the train or bus station when he needed to travel, and so we suddenly had the time and opportunity to talk.
Yes, we became friends, an odd couple if there ever was one.
As a writer, I knew I had received some manna from heaven. My town is small and timeless in many ways, new residents like this are a big deal.
It changes things.
These new and exotic people are fascinating in the way they live and the choices they make and the faith they have.
In one sense, they represent many of the things America is losing: forgiveness, peacefulness, moral values, a refusal to judge.
Admittedly, I have swept away for a bit.
I forgot for a moment that this is America in 2021, and everyone hates someone for something. For haters, we are a land of boundless opportunity right now.
I was reminded of that this week when some reality crashed into my usually serene blog-o-sphere where the worst controversies online for me are usually over whether a lamb is really sick or not and whether we should call a vet.
This week, I was plunged into the epicenter of America’s dark and troubled soul, and another surprise: it was nothing but a blessing and a gift to me.
Feminists were outraged that I was romanticizing a culture that turned women into breeding machines; gays were furious that I was becoming friendly with people who drove their gay sons and daughters out of their homes if they chose to live openly; the ever furious animal rights activists flooded my blog with grisly photos of Amish puppy mills and tortured and starving horses and dark accusations about the Amish, along with photos of some horses shot in the head when they got old.
I had a choice: define myself and my values or run and hide.
One person called me creepy; another said I made her sick, a friend, a donkey rescue hero, wrote not to praise me for my writing, as many were, but to tell me “the majority of the Amish are a fucked-up group” because they are so cruel to animals.
I wasn’t prepared for any of this, to be honest – Amish neighbors, personal and ugly messages, wild and false accusations against my new neighbors, people who struck me with their gentleness, kindness, and openness.
How foolish of me to have been surprised. Just look at the news. I must be honest, it was painful to read what people were saying about me, and painful once more to read what they were saying about the Millers.
It hurt, is all I can say.
Wow, I told Maria, it was as if I had suddenly been plunged into the Heart Of American Darkness, a country that sometimes seems to be eating itself alive with lies and hatred and judgment.
I resolved to defend my neighbors at every opportunity. And I am very proud of myself that I did. I have worked hard for my identity and I will stick up for myself, it’s important in our world today.
I don’t quit and I don’t hide. I pledge every day, to be honest.
I was at it until midnight last night, I was at it again tonight. I think things are quieting down, people have moved on to other grievances perhaps.
And I’m starting to delete the worst of the messages rather than answer them all. Enough is enough and many just repeat the same dogma.
This week crystallized my feelings about my neighbors:
They had a right to live peacefully and honestly as they chose.
They were not responsible for what others had done; they were not doing awful things themselves; I could see that for myself – their animals were healthy and content and appreciated, if not loved as furbabies.
Their children were extraordinary – kind, poised, courteous, and intelligent. I can’t speak for their mother, she seemed busy and content.
They were different and had the courage to be different, for sure; I admire how they live and conduct themselves.
As friends and neighbors,
I also feel a loyalty to them and their children, who have also become friends and have reached out to me in their love of reading. I am Jon the Bookman.
You would have to know me well to know how much all of that means to me.
The children and I talk about writing and books all the time.
Moise and I talk about life, plowing, fences, vegetables, and construction; he insists on thinking I know something about these things. Talk about trusting.
I am his emergency ride and call number and his Internet connection when he needs one.
So the gift part is this: I got to learn in the course of this sometimes unsettling week (I must have argued with 500 animal rights “activists” throwing mud at the Amish) what it means to be a neighbor.
I was reminded what it means to have a friend and be a friend. There was a sadness to the week, a wistful feeling, but I ended up stronger and more certain of who I am. That is always a gift.
Moise drove into our backyard behind the draft horse Ruby, looked around, and said he was sending his children over shortly to help clean up the leaves from last Autumn. No need to be paid, he said.
He only gave in when I told him I had hired a landscape person who would be upset to arrive and find the place clean and orderly.
Moise said he didn’t want to take business away from anyone else.
Moise knows I love to take photos, and he also doesn’t believe his family’s faces should be captured on camera.
He put his arm on my shoulder one afternoon and said “Jon, come over later. You can take all the pictures of my horses and plow that you want. I’ll make sure to be facing away from you, so my face won’t be in the picture.”
I laughed and smiled. He knows me pretty well. He knows my pictures are important to me.
I thought of an opening line in one of Phillip Roth’s early short stories: “I am an American, born in Chicago,” he wrote, “I am an American, not a Jewish American.”
I am an American, born in Providence, Rhode Island. I am not a Jewish American.
For most of my life, I never had to think about what that really meant.
This week, I thought of what it means to be an American all week.
It means accepting the idea of a place where all kinds of troubled and hopeful and yearning people of different cultures and values could come and live together in peace and harmony, putting their differences to the side.
This is what America meant to my desperate grandparents and their children and grandchildren, in memory of all the dead and lost, slaughtered in pogroms and wars.
Ah, I kept thinking, this is really what all this about in some ways. We aren’t there, but so many of us want to get there.
A chance to be American and live like one, rather than just put my hand over my heart once in a while when the National Anthem is played.
A chance to speak up for people who can’t or won’t speak up for themselves.
It’s a tiny sacrifice for me to battle with angry people online compared to all the countless people who have given their lives, black and white, yellow and brown, male and female, gay and straight, for this idea of America.
This week, this is no longer a cliche for me, but something real, something powerful.
And I was grateful as a writer to have something so interesting and new to me to write about. That is what keeps people like me alive and thinking. This is what I live for.
I am astonished but grateful to have made a good friend in such a surprising and unexpected way. As a loner, I had pretty much given up on the idea. And I have so much to learn from these people, so much to write about.
Moise and I cannot be friends in a common or typical way. That’s for the good. He is too busy and too different, and I am too different and preoccupied.
But it is a lovely thing, all of it, including the chance to refine, defend and understand my values and beliefs and fight for them. That feels especially good.
That might be the greatest gift of all.
Beautiful!
You came out of this well, Jon – I figured you would 🙂 There may be another side to some Amish groups or families, but you have been careful and observant in learning about the Miller family, there is indeed much to admire there and other things such in the way they live -such as education and treatment of women that we probably would not want for our children and grandchildren. But that is not to say that they are wrong for choosing their lifestyle, it is indeed their choice and their right to do it peacefully. Looking forward to more Amish stories and glad you have them in your life!
Jon, as in any culture, and this is a generalized and blanket statement because my experience is based on the news media and what I have learned and studied in my education. Every culture to me has both the good and less than good in human nature. However, I try to base my judgement on personal experience. It’s all I can really go on. I’ve been involved, years ago, with the Amish culture through my quiltmaking and taking my quilts to be hand-quilted by a family in that community. I was always welcomed, from the grandmother who lived in the Grosdoddy (sp? as I don’t know the German spelling and haven’t time to explore this) house attached to the main farm house, on down through three generations of the family. I was always invited for lunch and while this was my experience, I came to know that they were intent business-people, industrious as well. Having done Aussie Rescue I’ve also been aware of dog breeding amongst some of that community which I wish had not happened, but it was again, a business opportunity and viewed differently than I would have done.
Society today seems bent on criticizing others, people in the entertainment business, politicians, newsmedia people all appear to seek to make comments which they seem to think will elevate their own personal selves and promote their concept of thought as being worthy of being spread amongst the general population. It is like the world has become one huge reality TV show. Performance is everything.
You can only do what you’ve done, go on your own personal experience in whatever it is you write about. People can agree or disagree, but frankly, anger, hatred, criticism seems to be the norm today as well as self-aggrandisement and self-importance.
Sandy Proudfoot, Ontario, Canada
I so respect your stance. I truly enjoy reading about your relationship with your new neighbors.
I am especially thankful today that years ago, I was browsing through the new book section at my library and picked up Coming Home. It began a delightful and rich journey for me into your writing, books and blog. It just keeps getting better. Thank you for sharing your reflections and observations on our country today. They provoke thought and I appreciate this much in this “me” focused time.
In the scheme of things it’s all fine. You’re fine. I 99% don’t ever engage online. I did share my feelings with you and now I’ve called you creepy. That’s not what I said. I did say it was creeping me out. I felt creepy. I still question their privacy Because they’re not seeing these posts. Or are they? Do you show them what you’re writing? In any event, I don’t like being misunderstood which seems to come with online and not in a personal conversation. Enjoy you’re new friends. I’m sure it’s all very enriching on many levels. Cheers.
Terry, please stop dancing around and avoiding responsibility for your words, and playing the victim. I am not picking on you or misrepresenting you in any way. Of course, you’re fine. Why wouldn’t you be?
It’s no big deal, you are entitled to your opinion. And I’m a big boy.
But as I’ve written a dozen times, Moise and his family have come to my farmhouse and seen every one of my posts, which they very much enjoy. If you were actually following the story you would know that as I’ve said it so often. They appreciate the help I’m offering to alert people to the things they are selling. It is very helpful as they are new to the area.
They are not seeking privacy, they want people to know where they live so they can buy the things they make. Privacy is your problem, not theirs. They put signs about the things they are selling on the road and in front of their farms – their survival depends on people knowing who they are, what they sell, and where they are.
If you find that creepy, then it’s your problem, not mine.
Your message was hurtful and offensive to me, not helpful or constructive in any way.
Moise doesn’t need you to protect him from me, he speaks very well for himself. If I said your post made me feel creepy, I think you would take it as an insult. You would be right. You are not creepy to me, we just see things differently.
I certainly do resent your presumptions about my sensitivity and your hiding from your words. I don’t respect your efforts to slide out of it and put it on me. There is nothing about your message that I did not understand.
And by the way, whether or not I show them what I am writing is not your business in any way, it is between me and them. This is the problem with judging people you know nothing about.
I don’t think you’ve been deputized to police what I write, and I do not believe they need to be sheltered from me. I will enjoy my friendship and I respect your right to express your queasiness about me, you are not alone. But you have done nothing wrong, I see worse every day, this is what free speech is. You are welcome here and I hope you remain. But please don’t claim to be misunderstood, I’m out of patience with dissemblers this week. An apology would be a more honest choice if I were you. j
I have your stories about your new Amish friends. Having lived in a community with many Amish families, I enjoyed getting to know several of them and appreciate their ingenuity and dedication to their families. As a teacher and school administrator in the community I learned a lot about respecting their passion for their children and education. The families in our area had some schools for their children but many of their children attended public schools up until eighth grade. I think that was because we respected their belief system and allowed their children choices appropriate for that. As a special educator it was sometimes frustrating because they wouldn’t allow technology that would have helped their child learn, like tape recordings for a blind student. We had several Amish student with more significant impairments that we served up to age 26 which our state allows. I believe their families learned to trust that we cared deeply for their children and improved their lives.
I do believe that Amish families have their faults though as all human beings do. I have seen some of that also. But I appreciate you sharing the joy that you have received from your new relationships and sharing that with all of us. Discovery is a great thing. And Robin with the gorilla, oh my, another discovery and joining together.
Bless you and the work that you do.
Pam
Re “Feminists were outraged that I was romanticizing a culture that turned women into breeding machines; gays were furious that I was becoming friendly with people who drove their gay sons and daughters out of their homes if they chose to live openly; the ever furious animal rights activists flooded my blog with grisly photos of Amish puppy mills and tortured and starving horses and dark accusations about the Amish, along with photos of some horses shot in the head when they got old.”
I keep hoping that you would write showing respect and decency but you always kneejerk to the vulgar and petty and base, it makes you “a pit person.” Once in a while some wind lifts you higher but for the most part you stay in the pit. I was drawn to the predictions of an overwhelming vote for Biden (but you were basically wrong on that, though it was refreshing to dream that Rump would be gone.) But No: you cannot learn for very long. You put on a big show, donating to local non profits, and pretending to be a knowledgeable farmer (go live on a farm in Montana for a year for education), writing, photography, philosophy, a well wrought sentence … but when you show this major part of your character, that you are too weak to control, it’s is very disappointing. How about reading some biographies of manly, honorable men?
That piece of land there and the animals and your blog would be must better if you wrote nothing.
Ah, Paul, one day this will be true, don’t worry. I take it you’re not going to be donating to the Mansion Fund. I’d love to know why you keep reading so faithfully, do you have self-hatred issues?…which biographies of honorable men do you love? I want to thank you for being such a loyal fan. It’s easy to follow someone you like, only the very special follow someone they hate.
a start
Ulysses Grant, Memoirs
Frady, Martin Luther King Jr, a Life
R.Ashton, George Henry Lewes: An Unconventional Victorian
Wm Manchester, The Last Lion
M Borg, The Last Week
R Ketcham, James Madison
S.John Taliaferro, The Life of John Hay
Rob MacKenzie, David Livingstone
Michael Ignatieff, The Faith of a Hero
Franke, Diary of a Young Girl
Robert Graves, Good Bye to All That
Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling
Berry, Digging In
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, autob.
_____
re donating to your alleged causes:
I never have seen a reputable donation seeking site that doesn’t provide verification to the donors. How are you listed with the IRS tax empt orgs https://www.irs.gov/charities-non-profits/tax-exempt-organization-search
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weird by the way. I didn’t write the last sentence on my post. It was added by____ (you?)
I don’t (can’t actually) add sentences to other people’s posts. Yours was weird enough.
I’ve read the Grant book and a Madison biography, most of the others would not be at the top of my most interesting men list, you date yourselves as an old fart male. There are plenty of women more interesting than most of these men these days, and a lot more interesting men in the last century.
This may shock you, but we all have different tastes and interests. You don’t need to follow mine, I don’t need to follow yours. The best bio I’ve read in years was Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson. He is not, of course on your list since he is the most interesting American male of the last century, except perhaps for Donald Trump.
I am not a tax-exempt organization, and never claim to be. I have no desire or reason to be listed by the IRS since donations are not tax-deductible. People don’t get tax exemptions for the money they send me.
Most donations go to Amazon Wish Lists or Wal-Mart food cards or institutions directly, not to me. Donations to my blog are separate. We are much too small and I am not interested in being a bureaucracy. Every donation is recorded by a bookkeeper and a New York City CPA.
I pay taxes on the money I receive, except for the small charity allowance permitted by the IRS when appropriate. I have never claimed to be reputable, and hope never to be on your list of “interesting” men. No chance of that, I’m sure.
My causes are not alleged, they are photographed, documented, and very real, as you would know if you had read the blog for any length of time. You seem drawn to being offensive in keeping with social media and the times when it is so easy to be offensive, and so hard to be accountable. Every person who receives a donation in any form agrees to be photographed, and their pictures appear on my blog, along with the details. On balance, your bio list is a snoozer… Kierkegaard? — I’d rather take Melatonin.
You have the freedom to write about what you want (as you know!), you have had physical interactions with your Amish neighbors – you are seeing actual evidence of their wonderful qualities. Commenters on your blog do not know you and do not know your neighbors, how can they judge? If readers have a different opinion it does not give them the right to bully you and fire derogatory comments, thus engaging in hateful insulting behavior. You are making intelligent conclusions based on your interactions. Your reporting on Trump was fabulous – your analysis of his behavior was the result of skilled critical thinking – so I think these skills still apply when you write about your Amish neighbors!
Commenters on your blog do not know you and do not know your neighbors, how can they judge? If readers have a different opinion it does not give them the right to bully you and fire derogatory comments, thus engaging in hateful insulting behavior. You are making intelligent conclusions based on your interactions. Your reporting on Trump was fabulous – your analysis of his behavior was the result of skilled critical thinking – so I think these skills still apply when you write about your Amish neighbors!