Jacob's Moving Day

December 12, 2015.  Less than two weeks until Christmas.  Temperatures reached 70 degrees in these parts today.  I’ll take it.  Reminds me of New Year’s Day in 1978 when Leon Shrock was being the kind of friend that he was to many.  Our house had been hit by a car in February of 1977, and it was declared a total loss.  We rebuilt on the same site, and Leon came on New Year’s day, volunteering his time and skill to finish laying up the chimney.  He was just that kind of guy.  Not only do I remember his act of generosity and kindness, (one of many), but the weather was memorable too.  We were working in tee-shirts  on Jan 1.  

The warm temperature was not to last though, just as it may not last for long this winter.  (No one really knows.  We’ll take what we get and roll with it.)  In 1978, twenty-five days after laying up the new chimney, the weather turned ferocious, and shut down northern Ohio.  Thirty years later, the Akron Beacon Journal recounted it like this:

“A monster storm with hurricane-force winds slammed into Northeast Ohio early Jan. 26, 1978, spreading an icy coat of death and destruction.

The Blizzard of 1978, often called the Storm of the Century, killed more than 50 people in Ohio and caused at least $100 million in damage. Local residents will never forget the big storm of 30 years ago.” (Now 37 years ago.)

That’s true.  We won’t forget it.  No one could go anywhere.  All roads were closed for several days.   Anyone caught on the roads was subject to arrest.  Not really sure how the authorities were going to get out there and make the arrests, but the point was, to stay home and try to stay warm.  It was very cold and many folks were out of electricity, ourselves included.  The local radio station became an emergency headquarters of sorts, and people with specific needs could call in and say what they needed.  Some needed food, others needed heaters.  Anyone with snowmobiles were invited to call in and offer assistance.   I just happened to have an old one, and went on an interesting mission to help a family.  It was a rough ride across large waves of frozen snow and ice—a couple miles from home to a little grocery store, and onward to an Amish family who had run out of some food staples.  They were warm though, no problem for the Amish when the electric goes out.

Well okay, we didn’t mean to go off on a tangent.  Back to today.

It is very warm, and we are enjoying it, but winter may still come.  This morning I rose at 3:30 and drove the rented van over to Jacob’s house at 4 A.M.  They wanted to leave early to travel to their new home near Peebles, Ohio, and hopefully get there by 8 A.M.  Traffic was light and the traveling went well.  We pulled into a long driveway about four hours later, and there were already many other Amish friends and neighbors there to help.  It was a hub-bub of activity, and I walked around for a while to stretch my legs before the drive home.

There are already quite a few Swartzentruber Amish families living in that area, but not so many that they are squeezed for affordable farmland like around here.  Land is less expensive in that area, and Jacob’s children will hopefully be able to purchase their own farms when the time comes.  That’s the main reason they moved.  The land in that area is very much like Wayne and Holmes County.  Rolling hills, farm fields, and wooded areas.  Just to the east of them, however, the land becomes very hilly and rugged—almost mountainous.  Guess that’s why the county is named "Highlands."

I will miss this family, but their relatives and closest neighbors will miss them the most.   Jacob’s brother Sam, who bought the farm from him, was over at 4 A.M. this morning to say his goodbyes.   It seemed that a little window was opened for me to observe the affection they have for each other.   Sam shook each of the children’s hands, and with his other hand on their shoulder, very warmly wished them well.  As he spoke each of their names, his voice and touch were so tender.  I’ve never doubted their love for each other, but they do not display it openly.  This was goodbye though, and it was a moment to let the affection out a little bit.  It was special to see it.  Even though Sam is getting the home farm, he is truly sad to see them go.

Well, we’ll keep on walking, and once in awhile we’ll stop in to talk with Sam as he milks his cows where Jacob and his family used to.   It will be different, but Sam has four children at home yet, and I imagine they’ll all line up on little stools between the cows just like Jacob’s family.  Same place, different people, but all of them really nice folks.

And that’s it for today.  From Kidron, Ohio, we wish you well, and hope you are enjoying this season of Advent.  Remember, Wise Men Still Seek Him.   So long.