Events of Tuesday, November 9, 2010

          Today we woke up extremely early at Round Top Campground, just south of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. After quick showers and clean-up, we drove to the High Water Mark Memorial in Gettysburg National Military Park and parked there. This place was the farthest north that the Rebels came during the Civil War before they were repulsed and then retreated all the way back to southern soil – Virginia.  As we ate breakfast, we listened to the auto audio tour segment about this area. It was a very well-done audio tour. Then we cleaned up breakfast and got out and walked around. It was a very pretty area, so we enjoyed it quite a bit.

          Then we all hopped back into the RV and drove on the Soldiers’ National Cemetery. After we completed the necessary tasks for this area in our Junior Ranger program, we wandered over to the restrooms, after which I found my favorite monument nearby. It looked like a tiny cannon, and the inscription called it a battery, saying, “Fifth New York Independent Battery. (Taft’s) 2d[sic] Brigade, Artillery Reserve,” and on the other side, “This battery held this position from 5 P.M. July 2d[sic] to 5th, 1863. Casualties. 1 killed, 2 wounded.” I liked it because the cannon was miniature and therefore cute, and because only one man died and only two men were wounded, and it was there in action for practically the whole battle. After that, we headed back to Harvey. We brushed our teeth in the parking lot, before driving on to experience the Amish lifestyle in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. I was content to be done with Gettysburg National Military Park; we had seen and done virtually all there was to see and do there.

          In Amish Country, we had made arrangements to stay with an Amish family. Now how do we know this family? They are my dad’s mother’s friend from nursing school’s husband’s friends, more simply my grandparents’ friends’ friends. I personally was very excited to finally have a chance to experience the Amish way of life. I had seen the Amish and learned about the Amish, but I hadn’t really talked to them or connected with them directly. However, I was nervous too, because I had no idea what to expect or what to say and not to say. Now, looking back, I only wish we could have stayed longer.

          When we first arrived, we didn’t know where to park Harvey, as there were several narrow driveways leading into the Kings’ property, so we parked on the street in front of their house. Daddy went in and found Mr. Benjamin King and introduced himself. Mr. King directed us up the driveway. Then we shook hands all around, introduced one another, and discussed how the rest of the day was going to pan out. We decided to tour the Kings’ place and then pick up Mrs. King (Mr. King’s wife, Katie) and her niece, both of whom were visiting Mrs. King’s sister and her children.

          Mr. King then led us Taylors through the various buildings that make up their iron foundry and farm. Slowly, I gathered that the Cattail Foundry (the Kings’ business) makes molds or patterns and then melt scrap iron, aluminum, or bronze, and pour it into their handmade sand molds and make whatever metal piece people ordered. They have made everything from sewing machine wheels for the Amish push-pedal sewing machines to heavy iron grates for wood stoves. They even received an order from the White House. It seems people were breaking off the finials atop the fences around the White House to take home as souvenirs. They asked Mr. King if he could replicate the finial, so he did. He still had the pattern, so he showed it to us. Now, we can keep our eyes out for those when we visit our nation’s capital. The family foundry was preparing to pour on Friday, so the place was filling up with sand molds right up to the door.

          Our Benjamin kept getting pop quiz questions about the foundry from Mr. King, which entertained the rest of us quite a bit. But we Taylors are quite the city folk, apparently, even though we live in a suburban area. This was all so foreign to us, and therefore so very intriguing and interesting.

          After we completed the tour of the foundry, Mr. King gave us the guided tour of his shed, including collections of old-fashioned steam engines and ice cream makers of all different shapes and sizes. It was very enjoyable, because I kept looking into the bright eyes of this sixty-seven-year-old man and seeing the eyes of a little boy showing off his beloved collection of gadgets and toys. I got the same feeling when he showed us his little treasure room above the barn. Mr. King took the opportunity to show us two real pearls, a block of silver, a flake of gold, a collection of arrowheads, and a bunch of paddles that used to be his schoolteacher’s.

          Then we toured the farmhouse, and visited with all sorts of farm animals: cows, horses, dogs, cats, birds, fish, mules, rabbits. We began in the barn with the family’s thirty or so dairy cows, one bull, a few calves and a few yearlings. Also nearby were a few rabbits, and we spotted one of their four cats there, as well. We had met their two white fluffy dogs, Mama and Snowball earlier. Snowball was a funny little dog; he looked like a mix between a cat, a fox, and a dog. And when we tried to pet him, he curled his little fuzzy body into a semicircle and slowly hopped sideways towards us with his head tilted at an odd angle. Mr. King also let us see his mules, draft horses, miniature horse, carriage horses, his pet trout, the neighborhood ducks, and the family cats. Walking around this lovely, warm farm in the fresh, crisp autumn air, I realized that despite the dirtiness of being on a farm, it was a cleansing experience for me. The farm is truly freeing. Even for us, who aren’t really city folk, being out in the Pennsylvania Dutch farm country was refreshing and invigorating. I enjoyed it immensely.

          Along this grand tour of the Kings’ place was a water wheel on the nearby “crick” just across the horses’ and mules’ meadow that Ben King had put together himself. The water wheel pumps water from the well to the Kings’ house and all of their other buildings to provide them with the fresh water they need. The Old Order Amish’s biggest distinction is separation – from the world. As a result they cannot obtain water, electricity or communication from the world’s companies. So they generate their own electricity and provide their own water and communicate via letters and the occasional phone call.

          Soon, though, it was lunchtime. After a long explanation about how the Amish eat “dinner” at noon and supper after the sun sets, our tour guide and host Mr. King confessed to us that he wasn’t very good in the kitchen, so we had separate meals – the Taylors lunching on their lunch in the RV, and Mr. King dining on his dinner in his kitchen. Next, Mr. King joined us in the RV and gave us the deluxe guided tour of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, on the way to pick up Mrs. King and her niece at Mrs. King’s sister’s house. Mrs. King’s sister has three grown children with special needs, so we visited with them, and, at the Kings’ insistence, sang them a short song. Then we drove to Mrs. King’s niece’s house to drop her off and meet and visit with her family. After that lovely visit, we drove back towards our host’s house. On the way, we stopped at a local Amish store for a few groceries for both the Kings and the Taylors. We were surprised at their incredibly low prices and enormous heads of cauliflower and cabbage.

          Upon returning to the farm we were invited to go out to the dairy barn to watch the milking of the cows. So we went to the barn to watch Mr. King’s son Reuben milk the cows with the help of his son Emmanuel. Mom, Ben, Lindsey, and Abby then went in and helped our hostess Mrs. King prepare dinner, or supper, as they called it. Still out in the barn, Dad and I met more of Reuben’s children. John David is eight and very gregarious and friendly, buzzing in and out of the milk cows on his scooter; Katie is six and has a lovely laugh and a willing smile. Mary is four and very shy, and Melvin Lee is almost two and absolutely adorable. These children were all miniature versions of their parents. The boys wore long-sleeved button-down shirts tucked into pants with a belt and suspenders, as well as little straw hats on top of their heads. The girls wore long-sleeved, full-length solid-colored dresses, with sweaters for warmth and scarves and bonnets on their heads.

          Supper with the Kings was quite a lavish affair, with ham and pineapple sauce, lettuce and sweet dressing, steamed and seasoned cauliflower, bread with butter and homemade apricot jam, sweet apple salad, pork and beans, mashed potatoes with browned butter and gravy, noodles with melted Swiss cheese and browned butter, and orange Jell-O for dessert. During supper, Mrs. King looked over at me and said that they could dress me up like an Amish girl. “Look at her,” she said smiling, “her hair is in a tight bun, and she looks like she could be Lydiann’s sister or something.” (Lydiann was one of Katie’s granddaughters.) Honestly, dressing like an Amish girl would have been one of the only things to make me feel more at home among these lovely Amish, the other thing being the language barrier. But I’ll talk about that later. That was how welcoming and friendly these people were to us.

          The Kings – Old Order Amish –  start and end their meal with a silent thanksgiving for the food; Mr. King signals the beginning of grace by bowing his head, and then ends it with a sigh. At the end of the meal, he looked around and asked, “Shall we return thanks?” So we did. I rather liked it, even though it was a little odd for me, because it’s not what we typically do. It even made a bit of sense, though; we can thank God more gratefully after the meal because we now have fully satisfied bellies and we’re thankful for how delicious each dish was.

          After dinner – I mean supper – the adults migrated to the living room to talk about the wedding that they were to attend on Thursday. So we learned what Amish weddings are like, even though, since we’re “the world”, we wouldn’t be allowed to attend one. It appears this is an all day affair starting as early as 8:30 in the morning with a service. Around 11 o’clock the couple actually gets married and then they all eat dinner, in shifts as there are so many people. Then they gather together again and sing, one hymn after another until supper. After sharing that meal together (in amidst going home to do chores), they gather together again and sing until bedtime.  My parents also discussed with the Kings the Amish manner of worship. Their hymn book is full of just words in German, a small, but thick book filled with verse after verse, but no musical notes. The music is handed down from generation to generation vocally, during these singing times. They even have different times and tempos to sing the same song, which the Kings demonstrated for us. There is one song they always sing as the second song of the service. It is sung very slowly with long notes and many tone changes. But when the same song is sung in the afternoon, it is sung at a much quicker tempo and to a different tune, but the words stay the same.  The Kings then went on to discuss their language, the Pennsylvania Dutch form of High German, and how it is written down. It is a very fancy font and although my mom knows how to read some German, she could not read any of this German font – not even John 3:16.

          Meanwhile, Reuben’s children (Mr. and Mrs. King’s grandchildren) came over from the house next door with games to play. There was Benjamin, who was almost twenty, Sadie Mae, who was eighteen, Lester, who was fifteen, Emmanuel, who was thirteen, Lydiann, who was eleven, John David, who was eight, Katie, who was six, Mary, who was four, and Melvin Lee, who was twenty three months. For those of you keeping count, that’s nine children!

          Anyway, we played their games with them – Memory, Old Maid, Go Fish, Snap, and Dominos. They taught us those last two games, as we had never played Dominos before, and never even heard of Snap. Then when we tired of those, we divided the dominos among us and built many different structures. It was fun being creative, and we laughed together often over the course of the evening. As you know, laughter is the same in every language. However, I’ve never struggled with connecting to children in my entire life like I did with these beautiful Amish children. Children in the Amish community don’t start learning English until they are five or six years old. So we couldn’t readily communicate with the younger half of the Kings’ grandchildren. Sometimes, it was very awkward and silent, and all I could do was smile at them and hope they understood my frustration.

          After a lovely evening of simple but fun Amish entertainment, we headed out to the RV after using the Kings’ indoor restroom – yes, they do have running water in the Amish country – and went to sleep.