Pennsylvania Dutch

Two days ago, I woke up and said to myself, "you know, I think I want to be part of a Mennonite shingling crew today." This day was to be one of, if not the most, interesting days I have had at CAP thus far.

The day started out with Ross and I up on the roof here in Macon County Tennessee, trying once again to figure out how to shingle a roof with limited experience, limited time, and limited tools. Last week, we had been rescued by Emanuel, our Mennonite friend who happened to be passing through. Emanuel is a general contractor and seemingly by Providence, happened to be randomly driving by, saw our work site, and helped us to shingle a part of the giant roof we were working on. But now he was gone and Ross and I were left to fend for ourselves.

Just as we were getting started, we saw a white truck pull up. We both gasped in amazement and sheer disbelief. "It can't be..." I said. To which Ross replied, "Oh yeah, check out the hat...he's back!" Emanuel had come back to work with us, and he had brought a buddy who had one of the sweetest beards I had ever seen! Turns out, Emanuel's buddy, named Toby, is a Mennonite as well and also a professional roofer. Toby was the man when it came to roofing. He had on a pair of tan coveralls, a stocking hat, and his tool belt worn from many many years of construction. I asked him how long he had been growing his beard out, to you know, try to form some beard fellowship. He replied, "uh, I don't know...forever I guess."

So, Ross, Emanuel, Toby, and I started to fly on the roof, laying down row after row of shingles. And, I thought to myself how fortunate we were and how it literally couldn't get any better. Then, just as I was thinking this, an entire bus of Old School Mennonites pulled up looking for work. Our jaws dropped. Here were 30 Emanuels ready to work.

Now, here's where it gets interesting. Mennonites are similar to Amish people in many respects. Christian, pacifists, and very anti-modern and simple. However, there are various sects of Mennonite. Emanuel and Toby were in a way "new school Mennonite." They will use power tools, drive cars, etc. The bus full of men who pulled up were "old school Mennonites." They used no power tools, wore black, dark blue home made clothes, did not talk much, and kept to themselves. A perfect example of their anti-modernity was that when someone tried to take a picture of them, they turned away so as to avoid it because it is a modern, computerized device. Oh, and most of the old schoolers have beards. Both old school and new school speak Pennsylvania Dutch, which is a variation on German, I suppose.

So, as the bus pulled up, Emanuel says to Ross and I, "I'm going to yell down to them in Sherman (Pennsylvania Dutch) and see what they do! a heh heh heh!!" (At this point, Emanuel told us that he was an ex-Amish and we gathered that he was kind of a renegade and a trouble maker, but all in good fun). Emanuel also said, "They would really be upset if they knew that the camera from earlier is actually my camera, a heh heh heh!" Toby then said, "Oh boy, they won't want to work with us, they'll probably go work on another project." He was right. The old school Mennonites went to work on another job and we continued working.

However, during lunch, Emanuel went over to the bus of old school Mennonites and started talking with them in their language. He returned to us and said some of them might come work with us. Twenty minutes later or so, four old schoolers came over... Elam, their Foreman of sorts, asked only one question, "Do you mind if we work with you?" I said, "We'd be gad to have you." Then, the four of them started ardently measuring and laying shingles. They spoke very little while working and when they did speak, it was in Pennsylvania Dutch. Toby and Emanuel would run the nail guns because the Old schoolers would not use power tools of any sort. It was quite interesting to see the old and the new ways of working melding together to form an unstoppable shingling force.

As time went on, more and more old schoolers came up on the roof until there were 25 Mennonites ripping off old shingles and laying down new ones. All of the CAP people got off the roof, except for me. Elam would come over and check in with me from time to time, just seeing how our progress was going. I told him about CAP and he said, "It's nice to work together isn't it." It certainly was, they were dominating the roof like you wouldn't believe. They were like a machine (ironically), a human shingling machine that was nearly flawless and as efficient as you could imagine. They used no nail guns but just got in a long row, hammers in hand, and went up the roof, shingling old school style. When I realized I was the last CAP person there, I asked Elam what I could do. He said, "Get in the line." So that's what I did, I fell in with the other Mennonites and began hammering my way up the roof.

Fiver or Six of them came up and talked to me, just very basic things like where I was from. The rest of the time they were talking in Sherman (Penn. Dutch) They would laugh and smile from time to time, but mostly just worked very hard and efficiently. I did my best to keep up and not to embarrass myself. One of the men asked me if I spoke Pennsylvania Dutch and if I could understand them. I said, "No. Not at all ... are you talking about me?" He chuckled and said, "Oh no, heh heh heh."

After we had completed the roof, I thanked Elam for teaching me how to shingle Mennonite style and for all they had done. He just said thanks and we shook hands. Then, all the old schoolers quietly got on their bus and left. I waved goodbye, but all left without a word, save for Elam. Sherry, our manager for the trip said, "That's now Mennonites work, they come in quietly, do the best job you can imagine, and leave quietly. They don't stay for all the patting on the back."

I felt much like I was participating in a barn raising. It was such a blessing to work with such hard, dedicated workers who were so different from me and who seemed to hearken back to an ancient time of community living. I could have easily been in the 17th century doing a roof on a house. It was just neat, what can I say. I also have a theory that they accepted me mainly because of my huge red beard. Later, a couple of the workers that were with us thought that I actually was Mennonite. When I came back to the gym for dinner, they said to me, "you're with us! ... we thought you were one of them." Maybe it's time to shave ... no, it's not.

Cheers.

Rocky Top you'll always be home sweet home to me

I have no time to form coherent thoughts because I'm on a computer in a gym on disaster relief in Tennessee. So, here are some snapshot thoughts regarding my time here thus far.

-Ross and I are sharing a room with a couple other guys. I noticed tonight that Ross' pillow looked quite tattered and meager. So I said, "Your pillow is rather pathetic." He said, "Yeah, and it gets smaller every day, it's just a sack with my clean underwear in it...But in a few days I'll switch to dirty and it will be fluffy again."

-Last night we all went to a barn dance at a local eatery here in Macon Cty. Tennessee. This is an area ravaged by storms that has been through hell in these last weeks. But you wouldn't know it from their spirits... or their dancing. When the live band played "Rocky Top," the whole crowd line danced and sang aloud, seemingly without a care in the world. Everyone was looking at us volunteers with such warm and welcoming eyes and honest hearts. This was a place that you feel hearkens back to an ancient time where the family and immediate community were the foundation of all life. The American flag on the guitar amp, the drummer with the Eagles shirt, the cowboy boots on plywood floors, the lines of chairs, the 80 year old married couple dancing to "Coal Miner's Daughter", 10 year olds dancing with their grandmothers, sweat tea for a dollar, gravel driveways, home made pies. There are still places with things such as these that you hope will never die, will never cease to exist somewhere, even if you are unable to experience it yourself.

-Yesterday, the daunting task fell on Ross and I to do an entire shingled roof. We had both done 2 shingled roofs in our lives and so we were a little concerned. So as we were about to go up to the roof to "assess the situation," a man was standing near the ladder. We asked who he was and he told us he was just driving through. He asked if we needed any help. So we inquired if he had done roofing before, to which he replied with a Kentucky twang, "yeah, I'm in construction." Well, this man turned out to be a general contractor who just happened to be driving through the area and saw our work site. He knew all about roofing, shingled roofs, repairing, etc. and told us exactly what to do. Ironically, his name was Emanuel. Ross and I even convinced him to come work with us on workfest when "The perfect storm" comes. And we are greatly anticipating that.

-Jennie danced with a boy named "Tater"

-I met a local Tennessean named Steve at dancing last night. Steve had a handle bar mustache, a flannel shirt and a belt buckle. Steve said to me, quite profoundly, "I'm so glad ya'll are down here helping us out. And fella, I don't know where you're from, but if anything ever happens to your home, I'm coming up. And I'm comin' up red neck style! - on my motorcycle with my chainsaws tied to the back! ... That's what America's about, folks helping each other out when someone is in distress"

Cheers


your quote of the day:

"Would you honor the body of Christ? Do not despise his nakedness; do not honor him here in church clothed in silk vestments and then pass him by unclothed and frozen outside. Remember that he who said, “This is my body,” and made good his words, also said, “You saw me hungry and gave me no food,” and “insofar as you did it not to one of these, you did it not to me.” In the first sense the body of Christ does not need clothing but worship from a pure heart. In the second sense it does need clothing and all the care we can give it."
-ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM

You're the only Ten I see...

Hey ya'll

So there will not be many posts, if any, for the next few days. I am currently down in Macon Cty. Tennessee doing disaster relief with CAP. Among the 74573 other programs CAP does, disaster relief may be second in my heart to housing.

So far, we have cleaned up fields, chopped logs, used chainsaws, and met many people. The first home we worked on was the Doziers. Mr. Dozier, 83, has lived in his home for his entire life. His wife has lived in the home for 60 years, ever since the two were married. Their barns and garages were completely destroyed and scattered around their yards and corn fields, but, the faithful home was untouched. But, as Mr. Dozier teared up and thanked us, he was full of prayer and thanksgiving that the most important things, their lives, were unharmed by the storms. I also felt good to be spreading the love with my corn farming brothers.

Today, I spent 7 hours chopping wood, only to find out that the family we were working for does not have a wood burning stove. .... But I DID get a free hot dog from the salvation army, which eased the pain.

Anyways, hope the world is safe and sound where you are. Cheers and farewell.

Good ole' Rocky Top (woo!)
Rocky top Tennessee.

The Only Brew for the Brave and True Comes from the Green Dragon!

This past weekend I returned for the second time this academic year to the U of I at Champaign Urbana. The last time I returned to C-U, I did a blog about what home is and how to get back there... and if getting back there is even possible. Well, going back to U of I is still like a homecoming to me. Same old Fever house, same old Chat, same old St. John's in all of it's glory, same feelings of fellowship and real belonging with good friends. I walked into Murphy's pub, just like always, looked across the room and saw Besh, Mahoney, and Debbie, just like always. Then I ordered a pint, just like always and we went downstairs as if none of us had never left. And there was merrymaking, laughter, and offerings of cheers. Strangely, and somewhat wonderfully, it was as it should be. Then Pat was talking to a girl for a while, as we all watched in anticipation of the crash and burn. He came back and said, "well, now Lindsay thinks I'm an idiot." It was perfect, really.

The weekend went on like this and honestly could not have gone any better. I ate breakfast at Courier cafe, went to hours and hours of Eucharistic Adoration, went to mass said by Father Layden (an excellent homilist), did dishes with Besh and Jason, and ate dinner with my parents and the Cranes who came up for the day. I was even able to go for a long run on my old route through the south farms and the whole of campus. However, I did fail to anticipate the -12 degree wind chill and my hat freezing to my head. But it was good to be back on the flat land, where my stout legs can roam freely and without pain. Finally, on Sunday I was able to play a small, but significant role in the Koinonia retreat at St. John's, which you can ask me about later it you like. But it was certainly inspiring and touching to say the least. As I rode back to Kentucky, we could see the sun softly fading into the rear-view horizon. The Illinois plains burst into colors of purple, orange, and blue, quietly fading into black. I must say, I was sad to be leaving.

Back in the Bluegrass, things go on, much as they have these past months. The house we're currently working on, Theo and Joan's home, is a wonderful job. We have done all the windows and doors, put in new electrical, siding, sofit, and blown insulation into the ceilings. Joan and Theo are so appreciative and a joy to work for. Joan even made breakfast for us yesterday complete with gravy. Ever since that guy told me that I didn't need any more gravy, I have acquired the nickname "The Gravy boat". Anywho, Joan said to us, which I thought quite touching, "This is MY pleasure. I love to cook and you have all done so much, it's the least I can do." She voiced this in her typical, raspy Kentucky dialect. It's a pleasure to be Christ to others, but, equally glorious and blessed is to allow others to be Christ to you as well. Joan took as much joy in serving us as we received from serving her. And, that is one thing about volunteer life. You think you are giving so much; time, work, your sweat and frustration. But, actually, you are often the one receiving as well. It proves the words of St. Francis over and over, "It is in giving that we receive."

This is Gamgee, singing off.



Now Watching: Waking Ned Diving
Now Reading: Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh

your quote of the day:

Of all the comrades e'er I had, they're sorry for my going away,
And all the sweethearts e'er I had , they wish me one more day to stay,
But since it falls unto my lot that I should go and you should not,
I'll gently rise and softly call, goodnight and joy be with you all!

If I had money enough to spend and leisure time to sit awhile,
There is a fair maid in this town who sorely has my heart beguiled.
Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips, I own she has my heart in thrall,
So fill me to the parting glass, goodnight and joy be with you all!

neat

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"

The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."

"Why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference for every one of these doomed creatures."

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "I made a difference for that one."

If the Mountain defeats you, where then will you go?

Top:Frank near the kitchen we put in
2nd from top: the longest wheelchair ramp ever built (by CAP)
Bottom 2: Scenes from the mountains of North Carolina

This past weekend, Ross (the kid), Jesse, and I joined our East side comrades in a ski trip to North Carolina's Sugar Mountain. And boy did we raise up, take off our shirts and twist them around our heads like a helicopter! ... ... Now, you may be asking, "hey, you're supposed to be poor volunteers, how do you pull a stunt like this you vagabond?" Well, volunteer trips, like volunteer life, are based around a few things: simple living, cheap food, and free lodging. The wonderful Jennie Marie asked her very gracious grandparents for permission to use their mountain house. The house itself was gorgeous, complete with bead and breakfast like rooms, a porch, sweet tea, plenty of blankets, fresh air, mountain views, a small stream, and a warm sun. Plus, at night, you could see every star in the sky (which reminded me of the quote in the previous post). Quite honestly, I enjoyed some of the most peaceful, untroubled sleep there. Something about the combination of fresh air, exercise, and laughter knocks me out. As for the food, we feasted on expired chips, old bread and all of the expired peanut butter twix we could eat. We also visited a local burger place called "Bob's Dairyland" which reminded me of a southern version of Perros Bros. (for all my southside readers). All it needed was a man who cannot speak English taking orders and me getting stabbed to make it just like Perros Bros. But, never-the-less, we enjoyed burgers, shakes, and a cup of grease for like 4 bucks. So, we get by, with a little help from our friends.

The skiing was quite hilarious. I have only been skiing once in my life, and many of us had never been. One such person was your friend and mine, Jesse T. Jesse gets the golden star for valor under fire this weekend. When I first saw Jesse on the slopes, he was going backwards on his skis, headed toward the ski lodge at an alarming speed. Later on, I saw Jesse ascending the ski lift toward a blue slope (medium difficulty). Quite distressed I yelled out, "Jesse, you're heading for a blue slope, what are you doing man?!" To which he replied, "I know (thumbs up and fist pump)". "...Ok, good luck." I replied. Needless to say, when I saw him a couple hours later I was relieved that he had not fallen off the mountain and gotten rescued by a st. bernard. Ross later recounted a story to me where he saw Jesse skiing, and yelled out, "Yeah Jesse!". Jesse looked skyward to Ross on the ski lift and gave him a fist pump. Then accelerating at a dangerous rate, Jesse was headed right for a tree. Ross yelled out, "GO down man, get down!" So Jesse fell back spun around and came to a screeching halt in an explosion of snow and ice. A few seconds later, he popped right back up and was at it again. What a trooper. Ross and I felt we should probably reward such valor, as such is rare this day in age. So, we gave him the most kingly gift we could think of: Pabst Blue Ribbon, PBR.

In terms of work, yes, we still do plenty of that let me assure you. We have recently gotten off a tour of duty with Kevin Black, our interim crew leader and master of the Black Blackness. While working with Kevin, we built a 77 foot wheelchair ramp, put on a roof, did an interior of a house (framing, drywall, insulation) and did 4 doors and 5 windows as well as siding prep on another job. In total we did 2 and half jobs in only 2 and a half weeks. Having a crew leader who is knowledgeable is a wonderful gift. But, to have a crew leader who is knowledgeable AND patient is a rarity and makes all the difference in the world, let me assure you. Volunteer life is full of ups and downs, dear friends. You're up on community living, then your down. You're motivated, then you're not. You love the job, then you dread going. Working with Kevin was an up. The trip was an up. The rainy weather predicted for this week is a down. So, you take the good with the bad an roll with the punches. (Ups and downs ... like skiing ... come on!)

Cheers.

"Hummingbird" by Wilco

His goal in life was to be an echo
The type of sound that floats around and then back down
Like a feather
But in the deep chrome canyons of the loudest Manhattans
No one could hear him
Or anything

So he slept on a mountain
In a sleeping bag underneath the stars
He would lie awake and count them
And the gray fountain spray of the great Milky Way
Would never let him die alone.