It's always been fun to observe how people walk. There are so many styles. Fast, slow, proud, dejected, swagger, waddle, and shuffle. Then of course, there's the Swartzentruber Amish lope. I try that one sometimes. It has little similarity to how one might walk in a store or church. The Amish lope is designed for covering a lot of ground as rapidly as possible without actually breaking into a run.
It's a bit hard to describe, but we'll try. First, you start walking normally, then while leaning forward slightly, jut out your neck and head and greatly lengthen your stride. At the same time, get your shoulders swinging with your arms, and begin rocking your upper torso a little bit side-to-side with each long stride. To this combination, add a bouncing motion that comes from springing off your toes with each step. This gets the whole body involved in the walk, and it brings peak efficiency to your forward motion.
Occasionally I try to speed-walk while maintaining an upright dignified posture. This is difficult. It leaves me with the feeling that my legs may out-walk my upper body, and I may fall backwards. I can only do this in short bursts.
I remember an older fellow who worked at Kidron Body many years ago. His walk was unique, but lended itself to high productivity. Llewellyn Badertscher was a good upright Swiss Mennonite man of impeccable character, who worked in the maintenance department, and by virtue of his job, needed to walk a lot from building to building. His style, was to lean way forward, put his head out even further, then trust his legs to keep up. I always thought he resembled a chicken chasing a fly. I've tried to walk like this. It works well until you pass the gravitational point of no return. It's a fine line, but there is a point where your legs can no longer keep up with your body, and you sprawl face down on the ground. The upside to this, is that you're already halfway there, so it doesn't hurt much. Somehow Llewellyn had this mastered. I never saw him fall.
There was a time when our family used to meet at Mansfield for Sunday lunch at the Olive Garden. Maybe twice a year, Dick and Margaret would drive from Lima to meet those of us from Orrville, Apple Creek, and Kidron. After a wonderful meal of endless salad and other fine fare, we'd head over to the food court in the mall, where we could sit and visit for an hour or so. One day while doing this, we decided to shop a little.
Coming back from my excursion to the Sears Tool section, I found myself walking down a long aisle where Dad sat at the far end, facing me. About that time, I noticed an older gentleman a few feet ahead of me who could have been Dads twin - at least from behind. But he didn't walk like Dad. He had the old-age waddle, and walked slightly hunched over. This called for some corrective imitation. Even in his old age, Dad always carried himself with pride, walking very erect, with shoulders squared back, and head held high. As I followed his twin, I said to myself, if that were Dad, he'd be walking like this; and I put myself in my best erect and dignified position, shortened my steps a bit, and moved forward with poise and purpose. Soon the older gentleman peeled off to the left, and I remained lost in thought, walking like Dad. I didn't know he was watching me. When I reached him, he said, "I like the way you walk - shoulders back, head held erect - like you feel good about yourself."
I just smiled and kept quiet. Wish I'd told him how proud I was of him, and why I was walking that way. He's gone now. It’s been almost four years.
But the truth is, it seems my walks on Zuercher Rd have a greater resemblance to the Amish lope, then anything resembling dear old Dad. Not only did he move with poise, he talked the talk, and he walked the walk, and I’ll keep trying.
And that's the word from Jericho Road, on the outskirts of our little home town, Kidron Ohio, where the men are rough around the edges, the women are beautiful, and most of the children will find their way back home.
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