Amish America

Buggy-friendly America

Across America in places where the Amish have set up shop, local businesses and government authorities have had to adapt some practices to accomodate the preferred Amish mode of transportation. 

Traffic Jam off County Road 77 in Holmes County, Ohio

Sometimes an Amish group showing up in an area can lead to disputes with locals over horse mess or hoof damage on roads.  The smarter businesses, or at least those that hope to attract more Amish customers, usually get a hitching post up in front as soon as possible to make themselves buggy-friendly.

Wal-Mart in Millersburg, Ohio

Road signs warn drivers of the presence of buggies.  The designs of such signs are specific to state and even individual community.  Stephen Scott's Plain Buggies contains photographs outlining the differences in buggy warning-sign design in states such as Ohio, Delaware, New York, and Pennsylvania.  Generally they all consist of black silhouettes on a yellow background, but with different artists' renditions of the vehicle.  Why the difference?  Perhaps due to the fact that they are maintained by state and local authorities rather than a federal body which might be expected to produce more uniform signage.

New Bedford, Ohio

In certain Amish communities, such as that of Allen County, Indiana, the buggy silhouette on local signs is a crude approximation of a topless carriage, as Allen County Amish use only this type.   

New Wilmington, Pennsylvania

Most Amish conform to law by utilizing some form of reflectorized material or lighting to warn drivers of their presence.  Most find this to be a sensible compromise--they allow their transportation to be adorned with a man-made symbol, yet benefit from increased safety, while promoting the safety of car-drivers as well. 

Swartzentruber Amish, Wayne County, Ohio

Interestingly, the Swartzentrubers are among the only groups which refuse to use the familiar slow-moving vehicle triangle, while the 'white-top buggy' Nebraska Amish, considered by some to be the most conservative of all Amish, choose to use the triangle.  The Swartzentrubers have been criticized for this not only by outsiders but by higher-order Amish as well. 

Nebraska Amish, Northeast Ohio

At night, bicycle riders will often trail directly behind buggies to benefit from the safety offered by the buggy's size and blinker system.  Some of these buggies are extremely well lit up.  Yet lights are not a foolproof measure of protection.

Holmes County, Ohio

I recall stopping my truck at dusk to offer help to an Allen County, Indiana family whose battery had gone out.  I had barely seen their darkened open carriage and suggested that I drive behind them to give them a little bit of protection until they reached home.  They kindly refused, as apparently they were already near their destination, and the road was just a secondary gravel road.  Good it wasn't a main one.

Near New Wilmington, Pennsylvania

Despite driver awareness, lighting and reflectors, buggies are still frequently involved in accidents with automobiles.  I've had a few close calls myself.  The trickiest thing is underestimating the speed at which they travel. 

Buggy lights appear quite similar to car lights--which is good and bad--good, as you realize that something is there, bad in that you often expect whatever it is to be traveling as fast as a car, until you realize that it's not a car at all.

Do the Amish care about politics?

With the races for the presidential nominations heating up, seems you can't turn around without hearing what so-and-so said about you-know-who, who's waffling, flip-flopping or what-not.  Just 12 more months of it to go.


So what do the Amish think about the political process?

Well I can't speak for all of them, but it seems to me that there are some closet political junkies among the Amish out there.  I've been listening to interviews with Amish business owners I did in September for an upcoming book, and on more than one occasion our conversational digressions led into the political sphere.

If the Amish were more politically active, it's probably fair to say that most would lean Republican, despite the current administration's stance on war.  Bush famously went after 'the Amish vote' in 2004 in both Ohio and Pennsylvania, with a number of Amish responding enthusiastically.  Generally, Amish do not vote, and if they do, it's usually for local office.  It would be extremely rare for them to hold any sort of political office themselves.

Social issues such as abortion and religion factor into the conservative lean.   

Some Amish get their fix of politics through right-wing radio.  One of my acquaintances listens to Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck when he's on the road, though he says he finds Sean Hannity a bit too liberal for his tastes.

One thing's for certain, there won't be many Clinton votes among the few that may be cast by the Amish in '08.  In the words of one Ohio Amishman, currently pulling for Romney:  'Old HIllary...I just can't find myself clapping for anything Hillary does.'

Keeping it rural

One thing you notice right away if you visit Lancaster County for the first time--especially when comparing it to just about any other Amish settlement--is how congested it is. 

There are a lot of people in what is supposedly a 'rural' county--nearly half-a-million.  Some time ago, locals became concerned with what would happen if land pressures eventually caused the 'garden spot of America' to end up just like any other patch of suburbia. 

A combination of government and private groups today work to preserve the rural character of the county.

One way is by buying, then retiring, development rights to farmland.  This assures that farms, some of which were acquired directly from William Penn, will not be transformed into cookie-cutter developments, a process evident in many parts of the county already.

Thanks to David Carrig for the link to a Philadelphia Inquirer article on how Lancaster and Chester County Amish have dealt with the issue of farm preservation.

Despite some initial reluctance to 'getting something for nothing', a lot more Amish have signed up and transferred development rights to the trust.  As it says in the article, some are starting to see it as not only preserving the land but also the Amish culture. 

One thing's for sure.  With rights to some farms selling in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, it's not a bad time to be a landowner in Lancaster County.

A 'puppy mill' returns in sheep's clothing?

The Virginia Amish dog breeder whose kennel burnt down in March may just get another crack at his trade, the Roanoke Times reports.

Promising a new facility 'with amenities that exceed U.S. Department of Agriculture requirements for breeding operations', the unlucky Amishman's case for a 'conditional use permit' was passed on to the final-decision stage Monday by the Bland County planning comission.

This despite activists, some from as far away as Utah, opposing the attempt. 

Among the potential upgrades, the owner promised outdoor run-space for his pugs, Yorkies and Chihuahuas.  "We're just trying to make an honest living as God gives us the ability to do," he explained.

The board of supervisors decides the matter later this month.  No word on how many out-of-staters are to attend.

Do the Amish drink?

Indiana has granted a permit for wine sales to a local hotel in Shipshewana (or just plain Ship-she), the tourist center of the northern Indiana Amish settlement.  Shipshe is a historically dry town.  Seems some residents are pretty upset. 

Some cite Amish traditions as a reason for keeping the town booze-free.

We might think that drinking is not a part of the culture, but Amish and alcohol can and do mix.  Most famously, it's Rumspringa-age youth, but in the decentralized Amish system, there is no across-the-board Mormon-like principle against consumption. 

So it would probably depend more on the community and custom, and of course individual preference.

New Order Amish are completely against it.  Alcohol, like tobacco and bed courtship, was one of the sticking points that caused them to split off in the 60's.  In the Old Order world it's not so clear-cut.

I once sat with an Amishman in central Indiana as he told me, with something akin to horror, of a settlement in another state where hard liquor was customary on greeting a visitor.  Sounds more like Polish custom now that I think about it.

I've noticed the odd bottle of hard stuff on Amish shelves a couple times;  I've bumped into a dad or two having a Saturday night brew.  Amish may have a celebratory drink at weddings.  Homemade spirits like wine or cider were perhaps more common in the past.

One writer in Hostetler's Amish Roots describes her father's long battle with alcoholism, and his eventual triumph over it, thanks in part to Alcoholics Anonymous.

But on the public stage, if not the private, the Amish really aren't that big on drinking.  As Donald Kraybill puts it in The Riddle of Amish Culture:  'Alcohol abuse, present among some youth, is practically nil among adults'.

Concerning the youth, some parents look the other way.  But others put time and effort trying to crack down on it. 

This  eye-opener of an article describes collaboration between the Amish and local law enforcement.  One case ends in a couple of nights in jail for a pair of cocky underage drinkers. 

When asked why he chose such a harsh approach, the judge involved replies that 'their elders want me to treat them like that'.


So Shipshewana may no longer be dry, but it's not likely to change much.

You'll still be a lot more likely to catch an Amish fella with a cold can of Dew, a piping-hot cup of coffee, or a tin of straight-from-the-udder raw milk, than a cool Bud.

Milk!

photo: Jerry Olson/Post-Bulletin

The last creamery in Minnesota to accept milk in cans--mostly provided by local Amish--no longer does.  I guess you call that an end of an era.

Milk is an important liquid in Amish America.  And surprisingly, a controversial one as well.

Some Amish farmers have gotten in trouble for selling raw milk. 

Others are 'going organic' to tap into a more profitable niche market, in the face of competition from big-time bulk producers. 

Qualifying for organic status means not using any sort of pesticides on your farm over a certain length of time.  Though there's probably more to it than just that.

Once organic, you get to charge more per pound of milk.  You may also feel good knowing it ends up in a fancy carton covered with encouraging all-natural, wholesome sales copy.

photo:  Mike Wade/AP-TURE

A lot of people, vegans mostly it seems, aren't happy with the dairy industry in general.  They find the practice of constantly impregnating heifers to be cruel.  They also dislike the idea of male cows being separated and slaughtered for veal.  It does seem a little nasty when you stop and think about it.

In any case cows don't have a monopoly in the world of milk:  some Amish milk goats.  At least one milks sheep.  Apparently milk from goats and sheep is healthier, or higher in certain vitamins.

Milkin' time usually happens twice a day, most often at 12 hour intervals.  Usually around 4 or so.  Try not to bug a farmer at milkin' time, he has his hands full.

Lazy farmers may get themselves in trouble:  unmilked cows may develop mastitis, or 'go dry'. 

Milk is also a key ingredient in buttery, fatty, scrumptious Amish food.  Here is a sweet recipe. I haven't tried it yet, but bet these would go great with a glass of ice cold milk.  Credit to the Amish Cook:

Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Brownies

• 1 c. butter
• 2/3 c. white sugar
• 2/3 c. brown sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 t. vanilla
• 1 t. baking powder
• 1/4 t. nutmeg
• 1 c. flour
• 1 t. cinnamon
• 2 c. oatmeal
• 2 c. chocolate chips, divided

Beat butter, sugars and eggs until fluffy. Stir in vanilla. Blend in dry ingredients and most of the chocolate chips. Spread into 9-by-13-inch pan. Sprinkle with the rest of the chocolate chips. Bake at 350° for 25 minutes.

Settlements that failed: The Amish get 'nuked'

The Amish settlement at Piketon, Ohio was an odd one to begin with.

A few things made the Amish who settled here in 1949 different from most.

One was their evangelistic emphasis.  Amish traditionally do not try to convert others.  Piketon, Ohio was begun by a minister sympathetic to the idea of spreading Amish beliefs.

Secondly, they were the first Amish congregation ever to publish their own rule book, otherwise known as the Ordnung, and traditionally existing in oral form only.  Far more copies than were necessary for the congregation were produced, which hints that they were meant to be used as an evangelical tool.

Finally, the Amish of Piketon promoted the idea of assurance of salvation.  Most Amish take the approach of 'the best we can do is follow the Lord's commands and hope we make it'.  The Piketon Amish, however, followed a doctrine that stated that they could be certain of their fate beyond the grave. 


The settlement was comprised of settlers from various communities, who started up a close-knit farm community in the rolling hills of Pike County in southern Ohio.  Interestingly, despite the fact that they supported quite an unorthodox approach to the faith, the were 'in fellowship' with a number of other Amish communities, having preachers visit from Indiana and Ohio, including from the giant Holmes County settlement.

According to David Luthy, the Amish who settled there appreciated the sparsely populated rural setting, and got on well with non-Amish neighbors.

So just what did this settlement in? 

Word came in 1952 of government plans to built an atomic energy plant within a few miles of the settlement.

 

This messed up the Amish on two counts:  the massive influx of government workers and associated people would destroy the rural calm and make buggy-driving, for one thing, much more dangerous.  Secondly, the fact that a power plant would be located nearby would denote the area as a military one and a potential bombing target, and with the Korean War going on, this weighed heavily on Amish minds.  Soon after getting the news, the local Amish were looking for fresh pastures.

The facility which resulted, containing 'some of the largest industrial structures in the world', made nuclear material for both weapons and commercial plants.

The setlement itself was relatively tiny, maxing out at seven households.

The fate of the families? 

Most of them ended up moving to the Amish settlement in Aylmer, Ontario, at least partially to protect their sons in the face of the US military draft.

The Piketon plant, one of only two uranium enrichment plants in the country, stopped production in 2001.

(Source:  David Luthy's The Amish in America: Settlements That Failed, 1840-1960.)

Amish tax myths

'The Amish don't pay taxes.  They're freeloaders.'

Ryan Robinson of the Lancaster New Era writes that myths such as these persist, apparently even among long-time neighbors of the Amish. 

Why the confusion? 

They are generally exempt from paying Social Security taxes, a privilege negotiated some years ago with the federal government.  But at the same time they also refrain from receiving benefits.

They feel it's better to rely on their own means to take care of the needs of the weak and aged. 

The Amish, and especially the farmers among them, pay more than their fair share of taxes to support local schools, which in any case they usually don't use.  Most of the kids go to Amish-run parochial schools.

Robinson writes:  Ask your superintendent what school district budgets would look like if the thousands of Amish children in the county all of a sudden showed up for public education.

The Amish are basically subsidizing non-Amish education. 

They're also usually contributing a lot to the local economy by attracting tourists and patronizing local businesses, as well as employing non-Amish employees in their own often thriving firms.   And Amish businessmen do pay Social Security for non-Amish workers. 

The Amish also support charitable actions in their own areas and outside,  monetarily and through contributions of time and labor.   

Et cetera.

The misinformed would do well to get informed, and give the Amish a break.  When you hear some of the not-too-infrequent anti-Amish blather on the internet and in real life, you have to wonder just who the 'ignorant' ones really are. 

Milk and cookies the way God intended?

AP Photo 

The Ohio food safety issue goes higher profile, as the Washington Post, CBS News, and other big media outlets pick up the story today.

Meanwhile, Time magazine is running a piece on the controversy surrounding raw milk, another popular Amish-sold product.

Should these foodstuffs be regulated?  Should sellers be compelled to inform consumers of risks?  Or should these practices be shut down altogether? 

Homemade harmful?

They love the stuff so much it hardly has a chance to sit on the shelves.

Maybe that's why no one seems to get ill from eating it.

Mary Slabaugh, an Ohio Amish baker whose story was mentioned last month in Amish America, is in the news again, this time in Ohio's Coshocton Tribune.

Officials are trying to deal with the challenge that results when you mix a longstanding tradition of selling home-baked goods, consumers who can't get enough of them, and food safety laws that may make it illegal to sell the treats. 

"We're not going to go in and close any of these places down," said the local health director in the Tribune story.  "We try to help people first. That's why we're trying to do everything we can to educate the Amish."