Lucy

It came a time in my life, as I grew older, when I started thinking of looking for companionship. I knew that one of my best friends got married although he had hemophilia, so I figured I had a chance too, in spite of my frequent illnesses. I had been born and raised Mennonite but left the church for quite a number of years. Even so, I thought that I would find someone who was Mennonite or Amish. I lived in New Jersey at the time; just across the river from Philadelphia, PA.

But there were circumstances about my health that needed medical attention. I heard of Dr. Robert Jeffs in Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, so I wrote a lengthy letter outlining my health history and the need to find a solution for some ongoing problems. He answered the letter, inviting me to come down to Baltimore to discuss the options.

Since I had a problem with kidney stones, he suggested that they first be removed surgically, or with lithotripsy. He assigned Dr. Ballentine Carter to the task of removing the kidney stones. I spent a few weeks at the hospital and then was sent home to further recuperate.

My cousin called me and said she was going to write a get-well shower in the Budget, a Mennonite/Amish newspaper which is the communications medium to these conservative peoples, who are spread nationwide, and often related to one another, or at least know each other by previously being in the neighborhood.

Soon I got some letters of encouragement, 12 in all, and one in particular stood out. She was Amish, had polio as a child, presently had a bakery and lived alone, and she was 2 years younger than me. She also had to use crutches. She described her family of 10 brothers and sisters. And she included a $5 bill! There was no recourse but to answer the informative letter. In a subsequent letter she included her phone number. Since she had a bakery she had a telephone in the house. When her family visited, she would shut off the ringer and cover it up. Right away you could tell she was her own boss. She’s a Taurus, I’m a Pisces.

I must have waited a few weeks before I dared call her, and one boring Saturday I ventured to call her. We had a nice conversation. Her voice was pleasant and we agreed to stay in touch. She would call me around 6 p.m. almost every day or so. The following year I was to have the major surgery. When I was at the hospital, I called her and gave her my contact number. Every other day she would call and we would talk and talk…about cooking mostly. I was in a situation where I didn’t have food for weeks. Dr. Jeffs assigned his understudy, Dr. John Gearhart, to perform the surgery. He is a pediatric surgeon but he is familiar with the similar problems in adults so was assigned the task to augment the internal plumbing.

Finally, after a month in the hospital, I was sent home and in a few more weeks I would go back to work. I felt that I needed to get out, travel a bit, before going back to the daily toil of my job. Lucy invited me out to Ohio, and a good friend of mine, Elisabeth, volunteered to take me.

So on a holiday weekend, Elisabeth and I traveled to Ohio. Lucy and I did not know what each looked like. We only recognized each other’s voice. We pulled into the lane. Lucy was standing on the porch but hidden by an evergreen tree…until I rounded the tree and finally came face to face with the person I had talked with for months and months. We liked what we saw in each other.

Lucy had a horse and buggy so we went to visit her parents in Elisabeth’s car. Her Dad had a leather shop and he made leather flyswatters. He has quite a sense of humor. He showed me a small bird cage with a sign on it, “Florida Red Bats.” He encouraged me to look down inside. He burst out laughing when I saw that they were tiny red baseball bats. He told me someone from Florida had sent it to him.

We stayed for a couple days. When Lucy and I engaged in conversation, Elisabeth stayed away. She knew what would probably happen and she encouraged it. That evening Lucy asked me to read some verses of Scripture and offer a prayer. That happened each evening we where there.

When Elisabeth and I returned home, Lucy called at the usual 6 p.m. hour. She would like me to come out again. I told her I would have to wait for a three-day holiday weekend. I ended up flying out that weekend, from Philadelphia to Cleveland, and rented a red car to the 80 miles trip south.

I was traveling down Interstate 71 when I inadvertently passed the car in front of me before realizing that a car was almost beside me in passing position. She quickly backed off and I passed but it developed into a classic case of road rage. She tailgated me, so I took off at 90 miles an hour for several miles—and she caught up with me! It must have been the red car. At one point she passed me and I glanced at her. Her mouth was furiously chewing gum and she was hell bent on something. Suddenly I saw my exit, gunned the engine, and dove in front of her and off the freeway. If she intended to follow, it was too late.

I spent the weekend with Lucy. We had a nice time traveling around the neighborhood. We took a walk in Fowler Woods not far from her place. There was a boardwalk through the woods and we made our way, trying to avoid the damp spots on the boardwalk. Suddenly Lucy fell, which she very seldom did before. I’m not a strong guy and I was unable to lift her. For some reason, I went ahead to look for…something. That gave her the opportunity to get up gracefully by herself. When I returned she was up and walking. It happened once more. That set me thinking. Could I live with someone in this condition. I reasoned that I had my own conditions to deal with, why not have empathy for someone else. After all, she was a hard worker. She was able to accomplish a lot in spite of her limitations. She would be good for me.

A few days later I got a letter from her, deploring her situation and suggested that I would not want to see her again. But I did see her again. I started going to Ohio from New Jersey on regular weekends--all of 472 miles, one way. I would pack my car with travel belongings and after work head through Philadelphia on Interstate 76, into Ohio, through Akron, and on to Interstate 71 and south. I would get there by around 2 a.m. and sneak into the guest room and sleep until 11 a.m. and we spent the rest of the weekend visiting with some of her relatives.

In February, on my 50^th birthday, I waited until after 6 p.m. and then suggested that we could get married. She agreed. As I was driving home, I suddenly realized my mistake, “Ohmagod! I didn’t really do that right!” When I arrived home I called her up, and told her about my mistake and said, “Will you marry me?” It meant all the world to me when she said, “Yes.”

The next time I went to Ohio there was the Mast Homecoming that Sunday afternoon. Mast is her grandmother’s family name. While we were there we announced our engagement to the cousins who were there and they immediately started planning how they could help us out. Lucy knew that her brothers and sisters would probably not attend the wedding, let alone plan it. There were a few at the Homecoming who were Amish but the cousins who had left the Amish were more apt to help us out.

Sometime later Lucy called me and told me about a date to have the wedding, July 23, 1994. I was still working in Cherry Hill, New Jersey and I would soon have to make plans to move to Ohio.

I took a week off around the wedding. We invited various and sundry relatives and friends. I invited all six of my double cousins who were from Missouri, Illinois, Pennsylvania, and New York. They said it was the first time in 15 years that they were all together as a family. Others of the church group I belonged to came to Ohio to witness the proceedings. It was a beautiful day and we had the wedding near Sugar Creek, Ohio, in Walnut Creek, at Light in the Valley Chapel. My parents, brothers and sisters where there, but Lucy’s family did not attend. I’m sure they would have liked to, since they loved their daughter and sister, but Amish protocol precludes mingling with the non-Amish under those circumstances. We did take some leftovers from the reception afterwards, which they appreciated. Lucy’s father had suggested that the Amish could marry us…if I would become Amish. At least it showed that they liked me. I declined. I’m not used to hard work, and they are hard workers. And I don’t know much of their language. I suggested that Lucy teach me, but her reasoning is, just open your mouth and talk. Huh-uh!

We got married in July. I didn’t move out until October 1. By October 10 I had a job at the News Journal in Mansfield. I worked at building ads. We were the department that made the money for the company. I worked there for 10 years and then my health took a dive again, and I’ve been on disability ever since. C’est la vie!

There's more to the story about my first contact with the Amish but that will have to wait until another day.