Amish America

My top five Amish settlements

Who loves rankings? (everyone loves rankings)--today I offer my personal top-five favorite Amish settlements.  I hope you'll indulge my self-indulgence for this one day (I've been wanting to do this post for a long long time!).  I haven't been everywhere, but of the 17-or-so communities I've visited, these are the ones I would most readily revisit (and do when I can), and why.

1.Daviess County, Indiana--I really love the Amish people down in Daviess County.  I love how the settlement feels well off the beaten path, with a minimal tourist industry for a fairly large collection of Amish (toned-down compared to Nappanee, similar-sized, on the opposite end of the state).  I loved learning people's nicknames, which was super-important with such high-naming-homogeneity (85% of the people here share just six last names).  I got my first taste of Amish peanut butter and first invitation to church here, unsolicited.  Very friendly folks.  And an odd southern twang to the accent makes a Daviess Amishman easy to spot anywhere outside the settlement.

2.Arthur, Ilinois-- the first Amish settlement I ever happened upon.  That's probably a big part of the reason it's number two.  Arthur is in many ways a classic Amish community--it's of a size where nearly everyone still sort-of knows everyone else, it still has a fair percentage of farmers yet has embraced the idea of home-based businesses (wood shops flourish here), and has a fairly uniform Ordnung across the settlement.  Like the Kalona settlement in Iowa, it is centered around a quaint, smallish town that sort of tries to rev up a tourist industry but doesn't quite get there.  All the better for the atmosphere.  Click this neat link to learn an interesting fact about the Arthur Amish and vehicles.

3.Holmes County, Ohio-- this would be number one but for nostalgiac reasons giving the top two spots to Arthur and Daviess.  Holmes County is in my opinion the most scenically beautiful and interesting of all settlements, with its diversity of Amish population and hilly rural setting.  It's touristy, but nothing like Lancaster.  I probably know more Amish, better, here than anywhere else.  This is where they broke me in, after all.

4.New Wilmington, Pennsylvania--I only visited here a day and an evening, but absolutely loved it.  Blue doors, brown buggies. 

5.Allen County, Indiana--  A Swiss Amish settlement that is starting to butt heads with a major urban area.  Has an interesting charm to it, due to its various 'quirks'.  The Allen County Amish are a bit more gruff than those in, say, Daviess County or Elkhart/Lagrange, a bit more wary of outsiders.  When you get past the somewhat aloof exterior there are some very nice folks here.  The Amish in Allen County only drive open-top buggies and heavily favor building with brick.  The settlement has a wealthy feel to it due to that.  It doesn't seem to be a facade.  The construction business has done very well here.  My books also did very well here.

In Allen County, there seems to be an odd mix of rules.  Most homes have indoor bathrooms, while a significant number of folks have stuck with outdoor privies.  Yet cellphones are prominent.  English is creeping in, perhaps a bit too close for comfort.  But there is definitely a conservative streak here.  These Amish have close ties to the very conservative Swiss group in Adams County, just on the other side of Fort Wayne.

Disclaimer:  My comments here are mostly superficial and done in good fun.  I've met great folks and enjoyed my time everywhere I've been in Amish America.

But I wonder, what are your favorite Amish settlements and why?

Random Goat Post

The Amish like to keep goats. 

Goats make nice pets.  Some Amish raise goats to sell the meat.  A few I met in northern Indiana sell them to Mexican and Arabic clientele, for example.  Apparently goat's meat is big in traditional Mexican and Arabic cooking.

The Amish around Kalona, Iowa, like to milk them.

A goat can make a great grass trimmer.  Chain to the stake, move periodically, and you have a radial mower of sorts.

I'm really no expert on goats.  But goats do seem to come in all shapes and sizes.  And varieties.  The weird eyes, horns, a cry that can sound like a human baby screaming, and of course, the goatee--it really is an odd beast.

These were about the weirdest I'd ever seen, however.  I took this photo in the unusual Amish community around New Wilmington, Pennsylvania.  Anyone have any idea what's going on with the horns here?

Some faves

I'll be away from the blog for a day or two, so if anyone reads this regularly (listen up, you three), I've put up a few links to some of my favorite posts. 

So if you like, you can:

read how Amish forefathers chose to die,

or about the controversy among the Amish surrounding assurance of salvation,

or how some clever Iowa Amish got the barn from point A to point B.

If anyone is really bored, and would like to comment on which one they liked best, I'd be really curious to hear it.

The Amish Church District

The Amish arrange themselves into compact groupings known as church districts. 

Each district has its own name, usually a geographically-based one--Lamoni South, Randolph, and Crab Orchard are examples of places providing names for districts, these being found in Iowa, Mississippi, and Kentucky.

Since the Amish travel by horse-and-buggy to one another's homes for Sunday service, most districts are grouped together in a logical, geographical manner.  The district line often runs down the middle of the road, which means you might attend with a different group of families than your neighbor across the street.

photo: Bill Coleman

Districts in northern Indiana and Arthur, Illinois tend to be block-shaped, keeping with the gridlike road plans of the area.  Holmes County, Ohio congregation lines meander along the winding lanes that are characteristic of the hilly country.

New Order Amish churches tend to be more spread out in Holmes County, Ohio--probably because New Order Amish constitute a minority of the 200+ congregations here and must bunch together however possible.  In some districts, members' homes may be ten or more miles apart from one another, about a 90-minute buggy ride.  Contrast that with, say, a certain district in the heart of Lagrange County, Indiana, whose families all fit on a half-mile-by-mile postage stamp of land.  Walk to church?  No sweat.

A church typically has a set of two or three ministers, a deacon, and a bishop whom they might share with another district.  Generally speaking, the ministers and the bishop do the preaching on Sundays, and the bishop acts as the head of the congregation and final level of authority.         

The deacon usually does not preach, but helps with discipline issues and is a bit of a social go-between,  for instance acting to facilitate pre-nuptial proceedings between families. 

Regarding discipline, the deacon will probably be the first guy that stops by after work to talk to you about 'putting away' your jet-ski or whatever offending technology or behavior you may be engaged in.  In this sense he may act as the bishop's 'right-hand' before he himself would get involved.

When churches get too big, they split.  Typical church size is 25-35 families;  when a church nears 40 families, it's usually thinking about dividing. 

Some settlements have unusually large congregations, however--in Allen County, Indiana, nearly a third have 40 or more families.  The record holder is a district which as of 2006 had a whopping 59 families under one bishop.  That is what you'd call a ripe one.

photo: Randall Persing

Once a district splits, it's time to think about selecting a new ministry and eventually a bishop, a process that may take a few years.  In the meantime, the original bishop 'takes care' of the new district.

Church is on one Sunday, off the next.  Usually, if your district is off, you might pop in to the neighboring district's service, or go visiting to family and friends.  One thing is certain--no work gets done except for the most necessary chores--caring for animals, for example. 

And no business deals whatsoever--milk companies have had to make arrangements with Amish dairies to pick up milk (usually a daily thing) late Saturday night and then again shortly after midnight Monday morning, in order to accomodate this most strict of Amish customs.

Amish technology and 'friendliness'

Diversity in the Amish world is a common theme in this blog.  Ever wonder how different Amish groups use technology?

Judging by the chart, it can be seen that the most conservative groups include the Swartzentruber Amish, Nebraska Amish, and the Amish of Buchanan County, Iowa (the three of which Amish historian Steven Nolt groups together under the ultraconservative label, referring to the Buchanan group in particular once being seen as 'almost a conservative conscience within the larger Old Order world), as well as certain segments of the Adams County, Indiana settlement.

Often within the same settlement, there will be differences in what is allowed.  For example, in the northern Indiana settlement, churches on the west side of the community allow gas-powered lawnmowers, while those on the east tend to stick with those old-time rotating-blade pushmowers.

Holmes County, Ohio is a very diverse Anabaptist area.  Donald Kraybill says that there are nine distinct Amish groups living in this, the largest of all Amish settlements.  The four most significant, in order of increasing conservatism, are the New Order, Old Order, Andy Weaver Church, and the Swartzentrubers. 

Speaking from experience, I have found that this gauge of openness to technology is also a fairly good gauge of how open the Amish groups are to contact with outsiders. 

For instance, in Holmes County, I generally found it much easier to approach members of the Old and New Order churches.  People from those churches were fairly open and talkative.  I got a slightly colder though not unpleasant reception from Andy Weaver members, but found it most difficult to connect with people from the Swartzentruber districts.  Members of 'lower churches', as they're called, just seemed a bit less open to outsiders, or at least to me.

The Amish in Arthur, Illinois, Nappanee, Indiana, or Kalona, Iowa, compare to the Holmes County Old and New Orders in my personal experience on the 'approachability scale'.  Of course it all comes down to the individual, but as you meet a lot of people in a specific settlement, general patterns seem to emerge.

 

The chart, by the way, is from this site, which takes it from Stephen Scott and Kenneth Pellman's book, Living Without Electricity.  Scott is a member of a group somewhat related to the Amish, the Old Order River Brethren, and has written a number of informative, concise works on the cultural practice of various Plain groups, including Amish, Mennonites, and Hutterites, such as Plain Buggies, and Why Do They Dress That Way?  Highly recommended.

A most unusual move

Digging back a bit, Amish America pulled up a neat story from the Cellar on the Amish of Iowa, originally found in the Iowa City Press-Citizen.

After buying a tract of farmland, a developer auctioned off the unwanted chicken barn located on the property.

After chopping it into four pieces, the local Amish managed to move it by hand to a location one mile away.  It took four hours to do the entire 160-ft structure.

This odd tale speaks two things, loud and clear:  resourcefulness, and an unwillingness to let perfectly usable stuff go to waste. 

I just tossed a newish suitcase with a busted zipper.  Same thing with a somewhat ripped pair of jeans.   Something tells me our Amish friends might have gotten a bit more mileage out of that stuff than I did.

Stepping up, once again

Amish have been among the many helping clean up in southern Florida following last year's devastating Hurricane Wilma.

Amish Disaster Service out of Illinois has coordinated the Amish side of the effort.  Volunteers from New York, Iowa, and Illinois have been trekking back and forth to the area since early January. 

The Amish have just been one part of a much larger effort to help get residents in the area back on their feet.

This isn't the first time the Amish have gone out of their way to help those in need, and it likely won't be the last.

Kudos to the Amish and other volunteers for 'walking the talk.'

Amish or Amana?

About 45 minutes south of Cedar Rapids you come to the Amish settlement at Kalona, Iowa, set among the lovely rolling hills of Johnson and Washington counties.  There are 8 or 9 church districts here, making it one of the largest settlements west of the Mississippi. 

In addition to traditional dairying, raising and milking goats has become especially popular in this settlement in recent years.  One young couple even milks sheep.

Backtrack a bit towards Cedar Rapids, go west on Highway 6 and you'll find the Amana colonies--founded by a group of people who, though having German roots, are completely unrelated to the Old Order Amish to the south. 

Well-meaning tourists sometimes mistake the two groups--German heritage, similar names and proximity to one another cause some confusion.

The Amanas once practiced a lifestyle of shared goods and group rules for dress, eating and social behavior, among other things.  However, they abandoned communalism as well as the quaint clothing long ago. 

The Amana church still exists, and a number of the old traditions remain. 

Read more about the differences between the Amanas and the Amish here.

One last point of note--you might have recognized the Amana name on any number of appliances produced by Amana refrigeration.