Amish America

The top 10 Amish settlements

The ten largest Amish settlements, in increasing order:

10. Allen County, Indiana (Founded 1852; 19 church districts).  This Amish settlement located to the north of Fort Wayne is a Swiss-ethnicity community.  Open buggies are driven here;  the construction trade is popular.  Allen County Amish homes are often built of red brick, unlike those of most other Amish.  The three most common last names here are Graber, Lengacher, and Schmucker. 

9. Mifflin County, Pennsylvania (Founded 1791; 22 districts).  Also known as Kishacoquillas Valley or more commonly, 'Big' Valley, this settlement is home to three distinct Old Order Amish groups: the black-buggy driving Renno Amish, Byler Amish (yellow buggies), and the most conservative group, the 'Nebraska' Amish, aka 'white-toppers'.  'Big Valley' is, in fact, a big valley--about 30 miles long, and around 5 miles wide at its widest. 

8. Daviess County, Indiana (1868; 24 districts).  This community also has Swiss roots, though Amish here use closed-top carriages and other differences exist.  Daviess County Amish speak with a distinctly 'southern' accent. 

7. Arthur, Illinois (1865; 27 districts).  The largest and oldest Amish settlement in Illinois.  The Arthur settlement is very entrepreneurial, with numerous Amish cabinet shop and furniture businesses scattered around the flat countryside surrounding the small town. 

6. Nappanee, Indiana (ca. 1841; 37 districts).  This community lies not far from the largest in Indiana, that of Elkhart/Lagrange Counties to the north-east.  Similarly to that community, Nappanee Amish have been heavily involved in the RV industry.  Amish Acres is a big tourist attraction here.  It's not impossible that this and the Lagrange/Elkhart settlement will 'grow into' one another in future, forming one even larger settlement. 

5. Adams County, Indiana (1850; 47 districts).  This Swiss community lies on the opposite side of Fort Wayne, Indiana from Allen County, with which it has close ties.  One of the more conservative Amish settlements.

4. Geauga County, Ohio  (1886; 86 districts).  Ohio's second-largest settlement, about an hour east of Cleveland.  The Geauga County Amish settlement originated from the Holmes County settlement to the south.  

3. Elkhart/Lagrange Counties, Indiana (1841; 133 districts).  Indiana's largest Amish settlement long thrived thanks to the RV industry.  With the local economic downturn some Amish have had to look elsewhere to make a living.  This community has featured heavily in recent media examinations of the Amish youth period known as Rumspringa. 

2. Lancaster County, Pennsylvania (ca. 1760; 171 districts).  Lancaster is the most well-known, and the oldest existing Amish settlement.  Lancaster is in certain ways different from most other Amish communities, for example in its 'urban' character.  Nearly half-a-million people live in Lancaster County, with perhaps 6 or 8% of them being Amish.  Holmes County, Ohio, on the other hand, is home to around 40,000 total residents, with the Amish likely comprising half the population (not including Amish in neighboring counties).

1. Holmes County, Ohio (1808; 220 districts).  Holmes County is the largest and arguably most diverse Amish settlement.  Amish affiliations range from the ultraconservative Swartzentruber Amish to the more progressive New Order Amish.  The unusual 'White' Jonas Stutzman was one of the first Amish to settle here.  

(Sources: Amish Studies web site; David Luthy's Amish Settlements Across America: 2008, GAMEO)

A Joyful Chaos former Amish blog

A Joyful Chaos is a blog written by a formerly Amish mother of three.  This is her photo above, which she has shared on her blog, along with some other family photos from her time as a part of the Somerset County, Pennsylvania Amish community. 

The author discusses the Amish approach to photography and growing up Amish, among other things.  Back in July, she commented on Amish America that "I have met very few Amish that don't enjoy seeing a picture of themselves in a newspaper or elsewhere. When asked permission most will deny but secretly hope there will be some poached pictures. Communities do vary in this aspect."

I recommend having a look at this interesting, unusual blog, which I've added to the blogroll.  

More on the Amish and photos can be found here, here, and here. 

Southern Lancaster County

Contest results soon!

Ira Wagler on South-End Lancaster County

Ira Wagler grew up Amish in Canada and Iowa.  I like to link to his posts now and again, because his writing is very good and he offers a particular insider's insight thanks to his Amish background. 

In one recent post, Ira offered his interesting take on the Lancaster County Amish, and the north-south 'divide' in particular.  An excerpt:

Homes are spotless, inside and out. Yards and drives around here are cleaner than the house I grew up in. Of a Saturday evening, young children swarm around outside, sweeping vigorously with wide bristle brooms, lest the horror of some stray speck of dirt or blade of grass mar the driveway. In the fall, leaves that flutter from the trees are attacked almost before they hit the ground, and rudely piled up and burned with all the others. I’ve always viewed this cleanliness fetish with some awe. Why sweep the drive? It will only get dirty again. Wait to rake the leaves until they all fall. Makes a lot of sense to me. But I’m from the Midwest. From one of those communities that doesn’t quite measure up. What do I know?

So I observe and marvel. So prim and proper, is everyone. And that’s the way it is.

At least that’s what I thought when I moved here in the early 1990s. From Honey Brook to Morgantown to New Holland, from the Welsh Mountains to Gap and beyond, it was all the same.

But then I heard some talk, muted murmurings. About some place simply called the south end. Things were different down there. Backwards. Ultra Conservative. They go barefoot in summertime. Men, women, children. Every day. Even on Sundays, I expect.

Not that I have anything against going barefoot. I did that once, too. As a child. But not since.

The South-enders, I was told, are hicks.

I couldn’t believe it. Not in Lancaster. From what I’d seen, it was all one monolithic community, one united front.

And then one fine summer day came my first fateful brush with the South-enders...

Read the rest of Ira's post here.

Other Ira Wagler posts:

A humorous look at Amish church singing

Ira Wagler, running around

High-flying laundry lines; Amish Peace contest continues

An Amish laundry line near New Wilmington, Pennsylvania.  This setup is common in Amish communities, and involves stringing a line from a point near the home to a point high up a tree.  Turning a wheel moves the lines, taking wet laundry out and bringing dry laundry in.  Click for more New Wilmington Amish wash photos.

And the Amish Peace book giveaway contest continues--thanks to all who have participated so far!  For rules, check here.  For more on the book, check here. 

Part three of Lancaster Happenings

The last installment, of three, from the recent Lancaster County trip:

When I'm at Abe's, on Saturdays we sometimes do a big breakfast down by the river out back.  This involves Chef Abe grilling up a variety of meats--sausage, bacon, spicy sausage, etc, on an open riverside fire (though this time he used the grill up by the house).  Eggs, toast, jelly, sliced peaches, pancakes, shoofly pie, black coffee and orange juice round out the brunch.

Abe's family usually comes down and it's a semicircle of 40-some seats around a picnic table laden with food.  This time, Saturday brunch followed a day of fairly heavy rain.  Some Amish neighbors kayaked by at one point, taking advantage of the fast currents for a little recreation. 

Abe's workers were among those in attendance, a bit of a thank-you from Abe for their toil among the tomato plants.  The terrain is a little uneven down there, and I'm not sure if it was the slickness of the grass, or a misplaced seat leg, but one of Abe's workers, returning with a heaping tray, managed to flip himself head over heels, tray launched high and landing in the best spot possible (from a comedic standpoint).

The egg and jelly made a nice addition to his shirt, and the other boys in attendance laughed mercilessly.  He's lucky he didn't slip-slide into the river itself, but he shrugged, reloaded, and accomplished his breakfast objective.  In any case, the riverbank at Abe's is an ideal spot for a family meal, entertainment or not. 

I also had a chance to visit a new market, in Maryland.  The Miller crew and I headed down for a visit/research trip.  Our last Amish market excursion took in four markets in two states.  With their array of food stands, Amish markets are a good place to put on weight, or to procure supplies for putting on future weight.  I picked up some pumpkin butter this time around. 

Speaking of pumpkins, over at Jacob's place, I mentioned in a previous post that the tobacco was coming in.  Last year, in addition to the usual tobacco, Jacob had planted pumpkins in a patch of a few acres.  This year, the orange globes were conspicuously missing from Jacob's fields, replaced by more tobacco plants.

Jacob explained that he's not doing them this year, as he wasn't sure how much disposable income people would have for extra pumpkins around the house, given the economic situation.  Tobacco, however, remains a reliable bet.  "People have got to do something to calm their nerves," he supposed. 

Lancaster Happenings, part two

Notes from the recent Lancaster trip, part two:

Normally I drive an old, wheezing-but-somehow-still running red truck.  It's got, let's see, around 275,000 miles?  But like an old faithful dog or a worn-but-still-comfy-recliner, we've been through a lot together, and it's just hard to get rid of it.  Abe calls it 'the squeaky truck' in reference to the telltale noise it makes, by which he can often tell I'm coming even while still well out of view. 

Pulling in to the homestead this time around, Abe feigned disappointment on not hearing the friendly squeal, for we had driven Dad's newer and more luxurious grey pickup this time.  The running joke of the visit, which I shamelessly pushed for as much mileage as possible, was that "we heard only grey-topped vehicles were allowed up here."  Har-har.   

I had a chance to visit my friends the Millers and got in a nice game of baseball with the boys.  A rogue guinea pig romped through the garden as we pitched and batted into the late evening.  I homered once and managed not to twist any joints running around the backyard.  Last time I tried to have fun with Amish kids--at another friend's place, bouncing on the trampoline--I ended up wearing a back brace for a week.  So I'm counting this latest Amish athletic outing a resounding success.

Donald Kraybill took me along to a benefit dinner for the Nicholas Stoltzfus House.  The Stoltzfus House, located in Reading, PA, is the ancestral home of Nicholas Stoltzfus, who joined the Amish while still in Germany, and who today has an estimated one million living descendants, including 98% of Lancaster Amish. 

The dinner was held at Stoltzfus Meats in Intercourse, and featured two presentations, one on Nicholas Stoltzfus's European background, the second on the history of the house and the ongoing renovation project. 

The Preservation Committee is seeking to raise a sum of $300,000 to build a barn structure to accompany the house and serve as a museum, storehouse for artefacts, and living area for caretakers.  At one million descendants, that works out to around 33 cents a pop.  They'll take more than that, of course, but if you happen to have Stoltzfus blood (or not) and would like to contribute, here you go: nicholasstoltzfus.com.

Happenings which happened last week in Lancaster

Just back from Lancaster County.  Has been a whirlwind of finishing the final manuscript (submitted), looking ahead to finish the Polish-language Amish book (nearly done), and another top-secret project or two.  But in between running around the County a few interesting happenings happened. 

I dragged my father up this time, for an intense week in Amish Boot Camp.  When you are accustomed to the accoutrements of modern living, getting plopped into an Amish farmhouse for an extended period can be a shock.  But pop held up well, painting a bathroom, picking a tomato or two, and wolfing whatever grub he could seize.  Abe's family entertained us, with the girls singing a few school songs, complete with sign-language accompaniments (Lancaster kids get some sign language in school).  Dad, impressed by the choir, asked how in the world they could remember such long songs?  "We have young minds," replied Abe's sister, matter-of-factly.

As penance for past transgressions, resolved not to 'poach' any photos this time around, though dad got a few--but with all permission forms and waivers signed in this case, to keep us out of Amish court.  Tobacco season is heating up, and these are a couple of shots of some friends in the field.  The mules granted permission as well. 

Normally, waste tomatoes go to the chickens and pigs.  But sometimes they're used for more devious purposes.  Like the minor skirmish which erupted on a certain Lancaster farm this past weekend.  Abe's brother and a few of his workers took aim at yours truly, pop, and Abe in a daring sneak attack.  Caught in the crossfire of an unexpected Amish Tomato Battle, we feebly returned fire, using unexploded 'shells' from our attackers.  But finding ourselves pinned down between the front porch and the fresh-hung laundry, father and I were forced to revert to the only defense we had left. 

"We're pacifists," we protested to our Amish assailants. 

That seemed to do the trick.

Filming the Amish

People often wonder about the Amish and photography.  Documentarian and film & media professor Dirk Eitzen has an interesting chapter on filming the Amish in the exceptional Amish and the Media. 

Eitzen describes three methods used by those wishing to visually document the Amish:  pushiness, poaching, and focusing on children and young adults. 

I suppose if I had to confess, I would qualify as a poacher.  Eitzen states that this is "an approach the Amish prefer, and, at least to some degree, accommodate."

The above is a photo I 'poached' in February of this year in Lancaster County.  The original came out a bit blurry so I decided to try to salvage it somehow.  I'm not sure if I succeeded.  Effects courtesy of picnik.com.

I highly recommend watching the two short excerpts of Eitzen's film The Amish and Us at the link above.  They are both amusing and revealing.  The film itself, as The Amish and the Media co-editor David Weaver-Zercher describes it, is in fact "more about "us" than it is about the Amish."  

'Trouble in Amish Paradise' documentary

Here's a link to the BBC 'Trouble in Amish Paradise' documentary, now hosted on an Australian site.  I don't know how long it will be up, but if you'd like to view it, I'd go ahead and do it in case it is taken down.  It's not quite a full hour long. 

As to the narrative background, they get some things right, they get some things wrong.  There are some generalizations and some factual errors.

Regardless, the documentary itself--from a human drama perspective if nothing else--is captivating.

It features two Amish couples in various stages of conflict with their congregations.  The main couple featured is Ephraim and Amanda Stoltzfus.  I met Ephraim and Amanda in Lancaster County 2 years ago, when they were already under the Bann.  They were still attending services however, and had not moved off the farm yet as they do in the documentary. 

Although I'm not certain I'd agree with the premise of the dissenters' arguments against the church, they are very likable people, and especially the gregarious Ephraim, as is evident from the film. 

There's a lot more that could be said about this documentary but for lack of time I'm not going to be able to do so at the moment.  If anyone has comments after viewing please feel free.