Amish and 'Rumspringa'; Out of Control

I don't know how I could have missed this news item a few weeks ago.

Holmes County, the heart of Amish country in Ohio, was the site of a massive police raid on a 'Rumspringa' party a few weeks ago; 73 arrests were made in all, including 35 juveniles, almost all for underage drinking.

According to Clarence White, who owns a large farm on County Rd 400 in Holmes County, there were "...probably 1,000..." teens and young adults at the annual Amish rite-of -passage event on his property, one he's rented out for the last twelve years. "The kids ordained me years ago when they first started having parties here as the 'Party Pope' ".

White estimated the crowd to be 1,000 attendees, not only from Ohio but also Michigan, Illinois, Pennsylvania and New York. He charges $20 a head for the event, making a profit of around $5,000 after costs for portable toilets, a stage, bands and large tents. 

'Rumspringa', or 'running around', is a period where Amish adolescents are permitted to experience modern vices, such as drinking and/or smoking, and explore the world outside of traditional Amish virtues. 

True story: about 18 months before I retired from law enforcement, I was working midnights at Lexington PD with my usual partner, Capt. Troy Weaver. Now, if you don't know Troy, you're missing out on a very colorful personality, all-around good guy and solid family man. I'm thankful I was able to spend my last seven years behind a badge working with this man, a great cop who also happens to be a very funny guy.

Lexington is on a path from parts of Ohio's Amish regions to the city of Mansfield, a straight shot up US 42, right through the heart of Lexington. It wasn't unusual for Troy and I to witness a caravan of four or 5 Amish buggies rolling through the village on the way to Mansfield in the middle of the night. We had no idea where they were headed, but it would happen once or twice a month. Amish buggies weren't an uncommon sight.

One night Troy makes a car stop on US 42, on the southern outskirts of the village; he'd said "...with several occupants..." when he called in the stop, which meant I'd back him up.

I roll up to see the Captain talking to the driver; there were three other white males in the car also, so I approach the passenger side from the rear, peering inside as I move. All the windows are down and cigarette smoke is rolling out. I could also smell the distinct aroma of beer.

Troy asks me to get identification from the two right side front/rear passengers. The young guy in the front seat, a lanky, dark-haired youth who looked like he was 15, stared up at me with apprehension.

"I need to see some I.D., partner", I said.

"I don't have any, sir", he replied.

Perturbed, I responded. "Look, you at least gotta have something with your name on it, pal. Hand it over."

He hesitated, then reached into a back pocket and withdrew his wallet. Young dude opens it and pulls out a piece of white notebook paper, on which he'd printed his name, and hands it to me.

"This is all I have."

I immediately saw red, feeling that this kid was messing with me. "You gotta be kidding! Out of the car, NOW."

The sandy-haired youth in the back seat interrupted.

"Oh, no, officer! Wait! That's really all he has! We're Amish!"

Whaaat??!

As it turned out, all four of these young guys were Amish; three were on their 'rumspringa', the driver already having left the sect and joining the world. He had an Ohio operator's license and lived in an apartment in Mt Gilead. His three passengers were friends who were staying with him.

The guy who'd given me the note paper with his name written on it got out of the car; he was about six-foot-three and kept his arms folded across his belt line, in kind of a hunched-over posture. Troy and I found open beers in the car, which the two back seat passengers were hiding behind them, and a session of summons-writing ensued.

Tall guy, who'd been placed in the back of Troy's SUV cruiser, had been hunched-over for a reason. As he's stepping out of the cruiser, he tells Captain Weaver, "Well, you might as well have this one, too", and pulls an opened can of beer out of the front of his pants.

He hadn't even spilled a drop.

The driver, who hadn't been drinking ( chauffeur? ) agreed to take custody of the other three miscreants after promising to take them straight to his apartment. As we watched them pull away into the night, Troy and I laughed uproariously...two cops alongside a dark road, bent over, guffawing at what we'd just experienced.

Troy explained what 'rumspringa' meant to Amish youth, because I had never heard of it. I responded:

"Well, they sure experienced the world tonight....drinking, smoking cigarettes....gettin' stopped by the po-lice...."

We started laughing all over again.

I sure do miss working nights with that man.

Our National Anthem Is Racist??!!

I listen to talk radio.

Constantly, whether I'm going somewhere in my GMC or working on a project in the garage, I'm listening to talk radio. I'm not a fan of Rush or Glenn...one's too pompous and the other is a crybaby. I listen to Scott Sloan in the morning and Bill Cunningham at noon on WLW 700 AM out of Cincy, then the Trivisonno show on Cleveland's WTAM 1100 at 3 PM. 

Often, as soon as I start my truck, the radio comes to life on the station I was listening  to when I last drove it. Such was the case last night, as I made an emergency run to Kroger's at 2030 hrs for the elbow macaroni my red-headed angel needed in order to make her son Cory's favorite: mac salad. I won't go into why she needed it at that time of the evening; suffice it to say it was my fault. I really should have looked at what I was throwing in the garage trash bin after cleaning up the kitchen.

So, as I'm turning onto Grace Street, I hear two men discussing our National Anthem, the Star-Spangled Banner, which was penned by Francis Scott Key during the Battle of Fort McHenry in the War of 1812. One of the men involved in the discussion is the host of WTAM's Sunday evening show, Mansfield Frazier.

I know that, traditionally, this station has slotted a talk show for black Clevelanders on Sunday nights...usually with a host sharing views closely allied to liberalism. I'd never heard of Mansfield Frazier, so I thought I'd listen for the few minutes it would take for the trip to Kroger's.

It lasted about twenty seconds. Then I shut the radio off.

Not because Mansfield Frazier is a black man. Not because of his liberal views, either.

No, these two were discussing how our National Anthem is racist. RACIST! I have no idea who the other man behind a mic was, nor do I care to. When I heard the remark "...if we can get rid of the Confederate flag, we can get rid of the racist National Anthem..." my blood boiled.

I did a little research this morning on this whole 'racist anthem' topic, discovering that, apparently in the third stanza ( third!! ), there is a line that reads '...No refuge could save the hireling and slave from the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave...'

It seems that, for a Liberal, the word 'slave' equals the word 'black'...which, during the War of 1812, was not the case. This war was fought over British Imperialism and their attempt at controlling the seas...and thus our new nation. 

The British had a nasty habit of hijacking American ships and forcing their crews into service aboard British warships, then known as 'impressment'. These sailors were, literally, 'slaves' to the British in defense of their Crown; the 'hirelings' were the thousands of mercenaries, mainly German Hessians, who fought against this nation.

The context in which Mr. Key used the word 'slave' we will never know, but remember that this was penned in 1814 during the war, 202 years ago. Some words and terms used at that time may not have the same meaning as they now do in 2016. 

Of course, in the 'politically correct' environment that now smothers America, the immediate answer is to do away with the Star-Spangled Banner rather than doing a little research and finding the real meaning of the stanza.

But that would involve another word, 'effort', which apparently neither Mr. Frazier nor his guest had put forth prior to the airing of their show.