The way we were: Revisiting childhood, Amish style

This month's story is about a journey down Memory Lane. That's the trip my brothers and sisters and I took when we got together in Wayne County for a family reunion recently.

My family had been looking forward for months with eager anticipation to their trip to "Amish Territory." From Kansas City, Missouri to Atlanta, Georgia, they had been reading and hearing about the attractions that I considered routine. They arrived by car, van and airplane itching to take a buggy ride, sample the famous Amish cooking and -- most of all -- to shop for authentic Amish "stuff."

Our sentimental journey began with a trip to Lehman's Hardware in Kidron. To many tourists, the wares in this store, which caters to the needs of the Amish, are quaint curiosities. But to me and my siblings, who were raised in northern Ohio in a house with no plumbing and limited electrical power, the wringer washers, pitcher pumps and oil stoves were nostalgic reminders of childhood.

"Remember how we would heat up pails of water on the stove to fill the washing machine?" My brother, Bob, and I fiddled with the wringer mechanism, while my daughter, Stephanie, wore a puzzled frown, picturing our modern Rubbermaid cleaning bucket melting in a puddle over the gas flame. Laughing, we pulled down galvanized tin pails from an overhead shelf, reminiscing about how our mother used to fill huge metal rinse tubs with cold water and set them out in the yard for us to play in on hot summer days. Bob's 18-year-old son, Tony, was appalled when we lingered over a display of black iron pumps. "You mean you had one of those in your HOUSE?" he exclaimed.

My brothers, John and Tom, huddled around the John Deere model tractors and farm implements. I could tell they were dying to pull them out and find a dirt pile to play in -- just as they had 40 years ago.

Meanwhile, Marge and I were enchanted with the stone crocks, which conjured up memories of the aroma of Grandma's sauerkraut aging under the stoneware plate that served as a lid. We demonstrated to the younger generation how we used to warm our backsides at the coal stove that was the only source of heat in the old farmhouse we called home. They looked skeptical, especially when we recalled huddling around the wrought-iron "register" that let the warm air rise from the first floor to the second, where our bedrooms were sometimes drifted with snow let in by ill-fitting windows.

Of course, our description of the outhouse was a source of much merriment. Unfortunately (or, fortunately, depending on your point of view), Lehman's Hardware had no display of those fine old structures. The closest thing was a line of composting toilets -- which, we assured our children, could not compare to our luxury two-seater model.

Finally, we emerged from Lehman's and crossed the street to Town and Country, a general store that recalled the dry goods store of our youth. We searched in the bulk food section for the candies we delighted in as children. The meat counter was much like the one where our mother made her purchases directly from an accommodating butcher. The males in the group were enthralled by the collection of steel-toed work boots. In fact, believe it or not, my sisters and I ended up sitting on a bench waiting for our husbands and brothers while they shopped!

Of course, we females kept up our end. We browsed through furniture, quilts and craft supplies at the shops in the plaza behind Lehman's, while the men sat on the porch sampling ice cream and chocolates. Barbara picked out authentic Amish toys and games to take back to the 10 boys she cares for at a group foster home in Georgia.

We had so much fun that we ultimately took three trips into Holmes County, visiting Walnut Creek, Berlin, Mount Hope, Mount Eaton, Winesburg and Charm. Although we were born in Ohio, the rest of my family has spent most of their adult lives in other parts of the country, and we exclaimed over and over again that they had forgotten the incredible beauty of the Ohio countryside. My family departed with great reluctance, promising to come back soon and bring the relatives who had missed out on this trip. I felt very proud to have hosted their delightful experience in the Amish Heartland.

Thanks for coming with me.(Aug 2000 Edition)