Melvin and His Horse

Melvin has been gone for a few years now.  His health failed, and he died much too young.  His horse has been gone for a lot longer.  But I remember those times we spent together as teenagers—me, a Mennonite preacher’s son, and Melvin an Amish lad that I worked with in a local factory.  Melvin was about my age, and we had a lot of fun.  We’d go places together in my first car, a ‘69 Dodge Dart, and he’d take me along with him in his buggy.

We met at F. E. Schumacher Mfg. in Hartville, Ohio, the first full-time job for both of us, and it was a friendship that quickly developed.  Mel Coblentz and his brother Ray, were my first Amish friends, and there have been a lot more since then.  Their older brother Nelson was still experiencing rumspringa in those days, but since that time, has lived an exceptional life as a preacher and musician with Gospel Express Ministries.

Mel had a fast horse.  Can’t remember it’s name, but it loved to run.  In fact, that’s all it wanted to do.  That lean old equine still had the juice, and Mel was afraid it would give itself a heart attack, since it was well over twenty years old.  We’d line up sometimes with other young men, and hit the gas (a kissing sound and a slap with the reins).  The old horse was not going to let another one win if it could help it.  I’m still puzzled by how this works, but after takeoff, Mel would start a strong steady pull on the reins, and the horse would pull with his head.  The harder he pulled on the reins, the faster it went. I still remember the day we almost had a head-on with a car.  We were headed down a long grade on Market Street while attempting to pass another Amish young man, and he decided we were not going to pass.  Neck and neck we streaked down the road with a car coming at us, first at a distance, but ever closer at a rapid rate.  Neither horse or driver wanted to give in.  I saw myself dead and buried before the other guy let up and we pulled around him in time to make passageway for the car.  After the fact, we laughed.   Whether it’s a car or a buggy, we’re all the same.  Young men looking for some excitement.

Mel began dating a local girl about the time we were running around together, and he’d stay up too late sometimes.  Monday mornings he’d come dragging his butt into work a little slower than other days, and I’d ask him about his date.  I once asked him if he ever goes to sleep in his buggy on the way home in the wee hours of Monday mornings.  Yes, he said he sometimes wakes up with the horse standing in front of the barn.  That’s the thing about horses.  They know the way home.  We’re working on cars that can do that now, but the artificial intelligence is still no match for a horse.

Mel ended up selling his horse, bought a car and joined a more progressive church where a lot of other former horse-and-buggy Amish were attending.  And he married the girl who used to keep him up late at night.  A sweet young lady named Beth.

Borium.  Now there is word that most people will need to look up.  But ask any Amishman, and he will know, I guarantee you.  The substance is used by blacksmiths like Joe Schwartz of Hartville, Ohio.  He’s been gone for quite a few years, but he made for himself a reputation as an excellent horseman and blacksmith.   One day Melvin and I paid him a visit to get new shoes put on Mel’s horse.  That’s when I learned about borium, and how it is used on the bottom of horseshoes so the horses don’t slip on pavement and ice.  

Borium is a combination of brass and tungsten carbide chips.  It comes in sticks, and can be melted onto the horseshoes with a torch.  Usually, a patch of it is located on the toe of the shoe, and more patches on the heal.  In hardness, the carbide chips rate right up there close to diamonds, and it is used for many other applications as well, like saw blades.

Borium on the horse shoes.

   *      *      *      *      *

Seems like all roads lead into Kidron, and over a period of time, we see cars from every state of the union.  Often, it’s Lehman’s Hardware on the square that draws them in, but that’s not all.  The Amish population, and a quaint town that has not been overtaken yet by the tourist industry, makes this a pleasant, relaxing place to visit.

But speaking of the roads leading into Kidron.  My goodness, the last two winters have been really hard on them, and a lot of repairs need to be done.  Further damage is done by the borium on the horse’s shoes that wears a groove into road.  Along with the potholes and cracks, this makes for a slow and careful drive around here.  Hoping that our taxes will soon be put into road repair.  

Just one of many that go past our house everyday.

We see a lot of horses go past our house.  Some are work horses pulling wagons loaded down with feed from Sommers or lumber from Gerbers.  Some are bringing pigs or cows into the Thursday auctions—incidentally, the oldest livestock auction in Ohio—and others returning home with the same.  The Swartzentruber Amish use mixed-breed horses to pull their buggies.  They’re big and stocky and don’t run as fast as a lot of the horses used by the other Amish sects.  This keeps them humble I suppose.  They don’t need to show off with speed.

This is not the case for most of the Old Order and New Order Amish.  Almost all of them use Standardbred horses for driving, and a lot of those have been on the track at one time, and didn’t make the cut.  But they are still fast.  You can go to the once-a-month Mt. Hope horse auction to buy one if you wish.  There are a lot of horses there, some draft horses, some ponies, a donkey or two, and a lot of Standardbreds ready to be road-horses for the Amish.  When these horses come into the ring, the auctioneer will announce the details, and often note that “this horse is fresh off the track.”  This is where the Amish teenagers prick up their ears and their hearts start beating faster, and they’re no different than any other teenager trying out a Mustang or Camaro.  

*      *      *      *

Neighbor Jacob and his sons gathering the hay.  See the dog running along in the shade of the wagon.

It’s been a good week around Kidron.  Finally, my neighbors are able to put up the hay that has been laying in the fields.  We’ve had so much rain.  Now we’re getting the sunshine, and as I walked Zuercher Road, every neighbor was busy in the fields using the methods our Great-grandparents used, to put up hay for winter feed.  A child will usually be driving the team pulling the wagon, with an adult or two on the wagon, stacking the loose hay that’s being fed into the back of the wagon by a hay lift.  I found a short clip on U-tube showing how my neighbors do it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSOURuEJeyk

And here comes the fruit of our labor.  We picked our first green beans yesterday.  Always love beans straight from the garden to the stove.

The corn, that is supposed to be “knee high by the fourth of July”, is at least five feet tall.  Seems like the old saying might mean, if your field corn is not at least knee high by the fourth of July, it may not completely ripen before the fall frosts.  

Neighbor Lloyd put up some signs to measure the corn growth.

From my bench on the front porch, with a card table holding my laptop and coffee mug, we leave you with hope for a pleasant holiday with family.  May I suggest that we walk humbly and gratefully, loving our neighbors as ourselves—remembering to be thankful for the freedom we have in this nation, and especially thankful for the personal peace and freedom we experience in knowing Jesus, the Prince of Peace, the one who came not as a warrior, but as a servant.  Blessings to all.