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Amish Country Mission Accomplished

8/24/2025

...Continued from previous post:
We started off the following morning, Saturday morning, at the hotel breakfast room,

...where the waffles came out of the machines oh, so golden and fluffy,

...and the bananas offered little inspirational messages,

...catering. like much of the rest of Amish Country, to those who were of a particular religious persuasion.

After breakfast we set out on our mission - well, it was my mission, I guess - to find the items I was looking for: a piece of oil cloth for my dining room table,

...and a few more vintage Tiffany Coca-Cola glasses.

(See previous post, https://www.ailantha.com/blog/to-amish-country-on-a-mission).
I proposed our first stop be at the Berlin Antique Mall, where I'd found the Tiffany Coca-Cola glasses last year, in hopes that not everyone was such an afficionado of old Coca-Cola glasses as I was, and that there might still be some of the glasses left there.

So we drove up the highway to the Berlin Antique Mall,

...only to learn that it had been replaced by the Mercy Hill Church.

My hope-o-meter of finding my glasses dropped into the low zone.
However, I was pretty sure the Berlin Fabrics & Clothing store was still in business, so I suggested that our next stop be to look there for my piece of oil cloth.
Berlin Fabrics & Clothing is located in a mall called the German Village Center located on Main Street, which is in fact the main street through Berlin, Ohio.

Besides the fabrics store, the German Village Center is also home to a bookstore,

...which carries among its oh-so-clean offerings lots of romantic fiction,

...but still probably wouldn't agree to carry mine,

...though I expect the storylines are basically all the same.

There's also a hardware store,

...a pharmacy,

...a bank,

...and a supermarket.

We headed downstairs to the lower level where Berlin Fabrics & Clothing was located.

And sure enough, there were the rolls of oilcloth standing outside the store.

I opted for a few yards of the black oilcloth, which ended up working quite satisfactorily, after I cut it to size, as a table mat.

As we figured that all the inventory that used to be in the Berlin Antiques Mall must have relocated to somewhere else, we decided to start making the rounds of the Berlin thrift stores, of which there are legion.
Our first stop was the Share & Care.

...which sold a variety of household items,

...but not my Coca-Cola glasses.
Our next stop was the Berlin Village Antique Mall,

...which was such a vast repository of all sorts of used objects

...that Tom and I decided to split up in our search.

Though I can't imagine why anyone would want old spice containers,

...soda bottles,

...or beer cans,

...I guess there must be a market for these types of things.
In the course of my exploration I came across this colorful menorah which I decided to buy.

(At the check out counter the older Amish woman who checked me out asked me what this object was. I explained to her that it was a menorah, used to celebrate the Jewish feast of Hanukkah. She asked me why it had holes in the top. I told her they were candle holders. I expect you're never too old to learn something new).
In a little while I received a call from Tom that he'd found one of my Coca-Cola glasses. I scurried over to his location and, sure enough, there it was. a single glass, priced at $4.00.

I picked it up to look it over. The glass was cloudy and unappealing-looking. I wondered if I could soak it in vinegar to remove the cloudy film. However, Tom suggested that chances were that the glass's previous owner had already tried that, as a better-looking glass would fetch a higher price. I guessed Tom was right and returned the glass to its shelf.
Still, I figured there was no harm in looking around the rest of the store, since it was, in any case, fun perusing all the random stuff on display.

Then I found them! A treasure trove of Tiffany Coca-Cola glasses!

But my elation was cut short when I saw that they were - ugh! - $8.50 each!
Now, I did want those glasses. That was the point - well, 50% of the point - of coming back to Amish Country. But did I want to pay $8.50 a pop for them?
I decided to walk around the store and think about it for a while.
While wandering around I came across yet another cache of Tiffany Coca-Cola glasses,

These were priced slightly less at $7.95 each. I decided to buy them. I knew if didn't I'd end up with non-buyer's remorse (which I tend to be hit with more often than the other shopping-related remorse). I bought eight glasses, which, in addition to the four I already had, gave me a set of twelve.
Once I recovered from my sticker shock, I felt a sense of satisfaction, relief, even, that I'd found what I was looking for. Now, our Amish Country mission accomplished, we were free to spend the rest of the day driving through the countryside or walking around town. Or, I should say, making our way through Saturday afternoon crowd that packed the main drag of downtown Berlin.

When lunchtime rolled around we decided not to even try jockeying for seats at one of the restaurants, and opted instead to grab a bite at a gas station Dairy Queen,

...where the burgers were juicy, the fries hot, and to which I would have given five fast-food stars,

...if not for the fact that the ice cream sundaes that were part of our combo meals were served at the same time as the hot food, so that by the time we finished our burgers and fries our sundaes had lost a portion of their personalities,

...though even half melted they were still good.

After lunch we drove out to the town of Kidron, about half an hour from Berlin,

...where we visited Lehman's, the upscale old-timey-ish dry goods store,

...from which Tom gifted me a couple of years ago with a $116 made in the U.S.A. egg beater (see post from 2/28/2023, www.ailantha.com/blog/the-egg-beater-a-love-story),

...that still works swell to this day. This time, though, we just looked and didn't buy.
We then drove back to Berlin and swung back to the German Village Center for some peaches.

For dinner that evening we found a cute place a little outside of town called Olde World Bistro & Bakery.

...where Tom had the grilled chicken dinner with broccoli and I had a chicken wrap with thick-cut chips.

Then we headed back to the Comfort Suites Hotel where we spent an enjoyable evening in our room munching on the snickerdoodles and vanilla-iced cookies we'd brought back from the Olde World Bistro & Bakery and watching The Horror of Dracula,

...which, being a fan of 1950's Christopher Lee Dracula movies, I had already seen back when I was, like ten. But which I enjoyed seeing again, all the same.
The following morning we left Berlin, passing on our way out of the town the extra large chair built for Jesus upon his return,

...and, in Millersburg, the next town along the way,

...the bench honoring a man who loved to help people.

"That was actually pretty fun this time," said my mate. "We should come back again."
"We should," I said. "But let's try to make it be for another mission."

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To Amish Country, On A Mission

8/22/2025

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Last February, with our 48th wedding anniversary rolling around, my mate Tom once again popped the question. This time, alas, I said no.
The truth is, I was getting bored and tired of going to Amish Country. We'd gone there for most of our past ten anniversaries, and so this year when he asked if I wanted to go Amish country again, I suggested that we just, I don't know, go out for dinner and a movie, or something.

As it turned out, we ended up not going anywhere for our 48th anniversary, as right around that time Tom came down with his first case of COVID.
However, several month later I found myself with a hankering to revisit Amish Country after all. But not to see the sights. There were a couple of things I wanted, and the place from which I believed I could acquire these things was Berlin, Ohio, in the heart of Ohio Amish Country.

The first of the things that I wanted was a big piece of oil cloth to put on my dining room table as a protective mat under the tablecloth.
The piece of oilcloth that had been protecting the tabletop for the past 45 years was getting a weence ragged. So I wanted a new piece, and in the past I'd seen long, wide rolls of oilcloth at the Berlin Fabrics store.
I also wanted a few more vintage Tiffany Coca-Cola glasses.

These glasses had caught my eye in an antiques store last year when we were in Berlin for our 47th anniversary. I bought four of them then - they were $4.50 each - and had been wishing ever since that I'd bought more. And they weren't available on Amazon. So I wanted to go back to the store where I'd found them last year in hopes that more of those glasses would still be there.
And so on Friday, August 15, Tom and I returned to Amish Country, this time with a mission.
Columbus being a provincial capital surrounded by farmland and small towns, soon after we picked up U.S. route 62 east we were driving through the scenic Ohio countryside.

We drove for an hour and twenty minutes then stopped for lunch in Danville,

...at our favorite along-the-way eatery, The Hangout,

...where we split a a toasted veggie sub and an order of the hottest, crispiest, tastiest fries.

We then travelled on for another 45 minutes,

...through the town of Millersburg,

...and on to Berlin,

...through which runs the main Ohio Amish Country commercial strip.

In recent years a number of new chain hotels have popped up along the Berlin strip, one of them being the Comfort Suites Hotel, which was where we stayed.

The place was quite nice,

...and crowded.
It had been close to 20 years since the last time - which was also the first time - we were in Amish Country on a weekend - the weekend here being Friday and Saturday, as on Sunday the town of Berlin completely closes down - and so we had forgotten how crowded this locality gets on the weekend. The hotel parking lot was full of vehicles,

...and I was amazed at how many of them had come from out of state - some from far out of state - to visit Ohio Amish Country.

When dinner time rolled around we decided to walk a couple of blocks to the East of Chicago pizzeria.
Now, the Comfort Suites Hotel sits almost in the backyards of some of the local residents. I imagine the builders had to clear quite a few more houses in order to put up the hotel.

While we were cutting through the alleyway between the hotel parking lot and the houses to get to the town's main street - which is called Main Street, - I wondered how folks felt living next door to a 117-room hotel parking lot,

...though one of the residents apparently took advantage to spread the message to passers-by.

Although except for a couple of restaurants, the town's commercial establishments were closed for the evening - Berlin, Ohio, shuts down at 5 pm, even on Friday,

...there are apparently concerts held in town every Friday night during the summer,

...and this one was quite well-attended.

East of Chicago Pizza is, happily, one of the Berlin restaurants that's open on Friday night.

We hadn't been to an East of Chicago since our last visit to Berlin last year, but, also happily, they still serve those to-die-for hot mini-cinnamon bows with the gooey, melty icing,

...which I can still eat my weight in.

On our way back to the hotel we spied a splendid sunset above the horizon.

As we continued back to the hotel, taking in the scenery along the way,

...I admitted to my mate that it really was nice here, and I was glad we made the trip. Still, it was also nice to be here on a mission.

To be continued...

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The Posse Joins Hands Across High Street

8/18/2025

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It was many and many a year ago that I and a group of my gal pals began meeting at Panera every Wednesday morning for bagels, drinks, and conversation.

At some point along the way we nicknamed ourselves the Panera Posse.
Then about a year and a half ago we moved our Wednesday morning meeting place from Panera to Scramblers, where the brunch fare is oh, so yummy,

...and we stopped calling ourselves The Panera Posse; now we're just The Posse.
I'm not sure which of us came up with the idea of The Posse showing up for the August 9 Hands Along High Street rally, but five of us decided to go.

Hands Along High Street, sponsored by the pro-democracy group Indivisible, took the form a human chain in protest of the inhumane policies being promoted by the Trump administration, such as:
Cutting Medicaid and SNAP benefits to millions of Americans in need;
Cutting off the humanitarian aid that has saved millions of lives worldwide;
Building immigrant concentration camps in this country and sending immigrants to horrendous overseas prisons;
Raising an army of masked ICE agents who use cruel and violent tactics to terrorize immigrants;
Forcing career transgender service members just a few years short of retirement out of the military with no retirement benefits;
Gutting the staff and funding of FEMA, the National Weather Service, our National Park Service, the National Institutes of Health, the EPA, and other public agencies that provide Americans with essential services;
Arming and/or supporting authoritarian regimes that are seizing another country's land or committing genocide against a vulnerable population;
Firing thousands of doctors, nurses, and other medical staff from the Veterans Administration;
Cutting so many benefits to Americans while giving tax breaks that overwhelmingly favor the super-rich and crazy-rich and that will add $3 trillion to the national debt.
And so on.
Anyway, the Hands Along High Street chain was to stretch for 8 miles along High Street, a major Columbus thoroughfare, starting downtown and stretching north through city neighborhoods up to the suburb of Worthington.
The Posse decided that we would come to the rally bearing posters, signs, and/or flags. My artistic ability being limited, I printed, cut, and pasted together this poster,

...with some technical help from my daughter Theresa.

Me with my poster.

One of our Posse members offered to drive us, so we all went together. My friends and I were assigned to a section of the chain that ran through the pleasant urban neighborhood known as Clintonville.

Here we are, all fired up and ready to peacefully protest.

We walked down High Street looking for a good spot among our fellow links.

Along the way we came upon a fiddler who was providing some music,

...and a utility poll covered with stickers,

...including a "No Stickers Permitted" sticker.

We ended up splitting up, three of us choosing a prime corner,

...and the other two of us finding a good spot on the street.

My friend and I did have one scary moment. We were actually standing in the street in a "No Parking" zone, which we figured was okay to do since there were no cars allowed in that space.
But then a police car came zooming towards the space where we were standing. "Uh-oh," I said as we jumped back onto the sidewalk. A female police office hopped out of the car.
"Don't worry, you're fine, you're not in trouble," the officer said to my friend and me, but she said it with such vigor that I feared we might be in trouble, anyway.
But it turned out we weren't. The officer walked down the block and spoke for a few moments with one of the Indivisible organizers,

...then she returned to her car and she and her fellow officer drove off.
I walked over to the organizer and asked him what the officer said.

He told me she was a member of the Community Police Dialogue Team,

...and she had stopped by to ask if everything was going all right and if we needed any assistance. She then gave the organizer her card and told him to call her if there were any problems. I developed an immediate warm spot for the Columbus Police.
Many of the cars that drove by gave us a beep, a wave, or a thumbs up,

...and some flashed homemade signs or posters of support as they drove by.
At 3 pm we put down our signs and held hands for a few moments of silence.
Soon after that Hands Along High Street was over and we headed back to our car.

We all agreed it was a good protest. And yet it occurred to me that there we were, in what was probably among the bluest, most liberal areas of Central Ohio,

...and where most of the people passing or driving by and cheering us on were likely of the identical political persuasion as we the protesters were. And so we were heartening and buoying up those who existed on our same ideological island.
But, I asked myself what difference does a demonstration along eight blue miles of Columbus make in the rest of Trump-red Ohio? And though my question to myself was a rhetorical one, the answer came to me, and it was this:
If the day ever comes when enough residents of small-town and rural Ohio are ready to come together to form a protest chain against Donald Trump's policies, then we'll really have reason for hope.

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Our Visitors From Babenhausen, Part 2

8/12/2025

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Our Visitors From Babenhausen, Part 2

...Continued from previous post:
Ralf, Emil, and Marielle in Columbus, Ohio

Our visitors from Babenhausen, Germany, Ralf and Marielle, have traveled much of the world. They recently visited Indonesia and Thailand with their youngest son, Emil.

But this was Marielle's and Emil's first visit to the United States and Ralf's first time in Columbus. And so, considering all the places they've been and all the things they've seen, along with the age of globalization we live in with the infinitude of media platforms from which it would seem that we can learn everything about everybody and everything just by scrolling on our phones, I wondered if visiting our patch of central Ohio would be a new, different, and interesting experience for our guests.
Turned out it was, starting with breakfast at Scramblers,

...where they were astounded by the variety and size of the portions,

...not to mention that one can have free seconds, thirds, or even fourths if one wishes, of the dinner-plate-sized servings of pancakes, waffles, or French toast.

Welcome to the U.S.A.!
It being the first week of the Ohio State Fair, we asked our guests if they would like to go to the Fair. Absolutely, they replied. They found the State Fair to be a most enjoyable and interesting experience,

...and were especially charmed by the farm animals,

...and, of course, the Butter Sculptures.

And then there were the good old American copious quantities of food as far as the eye could see.

Sadly, I had to miss visiting the Fair with our guests because I was still hobbling around on a walker.

I was bummed for sure (I love the State Fair above all), but glad everyone else had a good time.
The next day, Friday, Tom was planning on taking our friends to see downtown Columbus and, of course, German Village, the historic Columbus neighborhood of brick houses and cobblestone streets that was settled by German immigrants in the 19th century. I was feeling sad about having to miss this outing, too. But then Tom, Marielle, and Ralf all entreated me to drag my walker and come along, even if it meant parking myself on a bench or in a cafe while everyone else saw the sights. In truth, I really did want to go. And so I did.
We started out downtown at the Scioto Mile Fountain in Biennial Park along the Scioto River, where we stopped to watch the children enjoying the "sprayground" on this warm summer day,

...and to benefit as well from the cool mist rolling our way.

Ralf was able to capture this sweet picture of a group of children posing for the camera.

Then, while the others went for a stroll along the river,

...me and my walker parked ourselves at a bench,

...and I snapped some shots of the vista.

After the others returned we discussed what we'd do next: Walk around German Village? Visit the Loft, the German Village bookstore in which thousands of books are somehow crammed into what appears to be a really small space?

Go eat lunch?
It was Tom who informed us that, from the look of the sky, which had suddenly turned an ominous shade of dark, we'd be hit with a storm in about ten minutes. We decided to go eat lunch.
Now, we did offer our friends the option of having lunch at Schmidt's, Columbus's tourist-trappy answer to a "German" German Village restaurant,

...or going to the Mohawk, a historic German Village restaurant where one could procure more authentic American fare.

They opted for the Mohawk. Luckily for us, we made it inside minutes before the skies opened up and the rain poured down.

As is typical for the Mohawk, our food was delish.
Marielle's taco salad,

Ralf's spicy buffalo chicken sandwich,

My reuben,

Tom's Mother Mohawk, a roast beef, swiss cheese, and potato salad sandwich.

(I forgot to snap a picture of Emil's sandwich, but I think it was a club sandwich). By the time we finished lunch the rain was over and the sun had returned,

...and so we asked our friends if they still wanted to tour German Village, or if perhaps they'd rather visit the Franklin Park Conservatory and Botanical Gardens, where one can see a collection of exotic plant exhibits in which are set beautiful pieces by glass artist Dale Chihuly. They all agreed that they would like to see the plants, and so we headed over to Franklin Park,

...where we toured the indoor exhibits.
A Chihuly piece, set in a "cave."

As the Conservatory closed at 5 pm we ran out of time to see all the outdoor gardens, though we did see a few,

...and had just enough time for a quick refreshing foot-dip in a little mini-pool before the place closed.

Our friends commented that downtown Columbus reminded them of Frankfurt am Main, a German city on the Main river, except that the the streets here are wider than in Frankfurt.

Frankfurt am Main

Columbus

Marielle made the observation that driving in the U.S. is so much easier than in Europe. Our roads are wider, the speed limits are safer and well-enforced, the streets are organized in ways that make sense in the cities and the routes are clearly marked both in cities and on highways.
On the other hand, she pointed out, Europe has the far superior public transportation. This made me think: Obviously in the U.S. public streets and highways take the priority that in Europe goes to public transportation; and so the U.S. and Europe simply have two different approaches to the basic necessity of getting around.
In Ralf, Marielle, and Emil's two days here we had a number of engaging conversations on a number of topics. I found the most memorable to be a thought-provoking theory shared by Marielle that nations that were once strong colonial powers - Great Britain, France, Germany, the United States among others - now have a tendency to look to the past, to strive for what they believe were once their glory days, to want to make themselves "great again." On the other hand, countries that had no "glorious past," no national nostalgia that they desire to bask in, countries such as Sweden, Denmark, Norway, etc., are more progressive because they look rather to the future.
That evening Ralf offered to make dinner for us. I told him I didn't think we had much for him to work with. But he rummaged through our fridge, cooked some rice, and he and Emil rustled together a lovely, tasty meal.

The next morning over breakfast I asked our friends if they couldn't stay a few more hours before leaving, as there were more things to see in Columbus. In truth, though, I was feeling sad that they were leaving and just wished they could stay longer.

But they were headed to Cleveland, their overnight stop on their way to Rochester, New York, their final destination, and they wanted to have some time to see Cleveland.
We told them that if they had only a brief time in Cleveland, they should use it to visit the city's historic West Side Market.

Which they did, and which they enjoyed. Ralf told us it reminded them of the "Kleinmarkthalle," a market hall in Frankfurt.

If only our friends lived across town instead of half way across the globe.

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Our Visitors From Babenhausen, Part 1

8/9/2025

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Our Visitors From Babenhausen, Part 1

My mate Tom was stationed from late 1972 to mid-1976 at the U.S. Army post known as Babenhausen Kaserne located outside the small town of Babenhausen, Germany.
Babenhausen

The town's famous witch tower

Babenhausen Kaserne, circa 1973

During this time Tom rented a room off-post in the home of a kind, lovely, German woman named Anna and her son, Ralf.
Anna and Ralf's home in Babenhausen.

Meanwhile Tom and I struck up a friendship - well, a bit more than a friendship, obviously,

...while I was working as a Department of Defense civilian first on Babenhausen Kaserne, then later at the post in nearby Aschaffenburg.
Pictures of Aschaffenburg, circa 1974

Me, circa 1974,

...and the house where I lived in Aschaffenburg. My room was the right window on the roof.

Subsequently I, too, got to know Anna, and I would see young Ralf around the house from time to time. Ralf was around 12 years old when Tom arrived, and around 15 when he left.
After Tom returned to the States he and Anna stayed in touch over the years, and after Anna passed away Tom and Ralf continued exchanging Christmas cards.
Then several months ago Tom received an email from Ralf informing us that he, his wife, and their youngest son would be coming to the U.S. to visit friends in Rochester, New York, and, as their 17-year-old son wanted to see New York City, to spend a couple of days there. He wondered if they might visit Columbus, too, and spend three nights with us. Of course, Tom said of course!
And so on the evening of July 23 Ralf, Marielle and their son Emil arrived at our house,

...and immediately jumped in to help with dinner,

...which was sort of a fusion of German (the brats), American (the corn and coleslaw), Italian (the pasta), and some international (everybody in the world loves potato chips and Coke),

...with all-American ice cream and strawberries for dessert.

Now, did, you ever meet someone and, for some reason you can't put into words, you form an immediate connection? This is what happened between our visitors and us. They were so friendly, so funny, so easy-going, so nice.

They were all fluent in English and very informed and interesting conversationalists. And it was a happy surprise for me to learn that Marielle is French; and it was a happy surprise for Marielle to learn that I speak French. And so Marielle, Emil -who is also fluent in French - and I were able to chat in French.
It added some extra glue to the bond that we were all essentially of the same political persuasion, their fears and hopes for their country being similar to our fears and hopes for ours.

A couple of times, though, I felt as if I'd taken a trip in a time machine: the last time I saw Ralf he was, at nine years younger than me, just a kid, while I was an adult. Now he was still nine years younger than me, but we were contemporaries. I suppose Ralf may have felt the same way: Here were these two people who used to be the grown-ups, and now we're all grown-ups. And we all grew up, over time, and thousands of miles apart, to have so much in common. It was all somehow mystifying. And wonderful.

To be continued...

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Where Have All Those Love Songs Gone?

8/3/2025

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Where Have All Those Love Songs Gone?

On day last week I was hobbling around Kroger's on my no-longer-immobilized-but-still-underperforming knee (see post from 7/7/2025, https://www.ailantha.com/blog/paying-the-stupid-tax).
Turns out I have a sprained Medial Collateral Ligament,

...which, thanks to the healing properties of physical therapy and time, is now well on the mend and, thankfully, no longer trussed up in a knee immobilizer as before.

However, the week before last during one of my first post-injury outings to Kroger's I was still moving slower than usual and stopping frequently to lean for a few moments on my shopping cart and give my knee a little rest break.
It was was during one of these idle moments of knee respite that I happened to notice the usually unnoticeable supermarket background music, and the lyrics of the song being piped in caught my ear:
People all over the world, join hands,
Form a love train, love train
I recognized these lyrics as belonging to a catchy soul tune from the early 1970's sung by a popular R&B group of the time called the O'Jays.

"Love Train" was a huge hit back in its day, which was also my day, which is probably why I spent a moment (while waiting for my knee to agree to take on the frozen foods aisle) waxing nostalgic.
And then as I listened to the words it hit me: We don't have songs like "Love Train" anymore. We don't have songs that prevail upon us to love one another. That remind us that we're all brothers and sisters the world over, no matter our race or nationality. Songs that enshrine caring about each other, whoever we might be. Songs that are prayers for peace.
And yet there was a time, from the mid-1960's through the mid-1970's, that these were the themes of the popular songs. There were so many of those kinds of love songs back then, with their message conveyed in the lyrics:

What the world needs now is love, sweet love, no, not just for some, but for everyone...

I'd like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony; I'd like to hold it in my arms and keep it company...

Come on, people, now, smile on each other, everybody get together, try to love one another right now...

All you need is love, love; love is all you need...

There is just one moon and one golden sun, and a smile means friendship for everyone; there's so much that we share that it's time we're aware it's a small world after all...

Let your love fly like a bird on the wing, and let your love bind you to all living things...

When the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars, then peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars...

I see trees of green, red roses too; I see them bloom for me and you;
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world...

Mother, mother, there's too many of you crying; brother, brother, brother, there's far too many of you dying; you know we've got to find a way to bring some loving here today...

It's a long, long road from which there is no return; while we're on the way to there why not share? And the load doesn't weigh me down at all; he ain't heavy, he's my brother...

  Another day goes by; still the children cry; put a little love in your heart; if you want the world to know we won't let hatred grow, put a little love in your heart; and the world will be a better place, yes the world will be better place for you and me, you just wait and see...

All we are saying, is give peace a chance; all we are saying, is give peace a chance...

   The United States was in a turbulent time back in the 60's and 70's, wracked with social problems, societal upheaval, deeply divisive political and cultural polarization, an unpopular foreign war, protests, demonstrations, civil dissent.
And yet through it all there was a permeating desire in this country for the ideals expressed in the songs we listened to and sang. Through all the national turmoil those ideals were part of the mood, ideas, and spirit of America in those times.
Which is unlike the turbulent time we now live in, where there is in fact less poverty in this country, less hunger, better healthcare, and our population is, in fact, wealthier than people were 5o years ago before the social safety nets and protections we now have - or had, until recently - were put in place, mostly during the 60's and 70's.
Yes, the spirit of the turbulent but more affluent times we now live in is very different. The spirit of extending our hand in world-wide friendship and mutuality, of sharing with our hungry and less fortunate brothers and sisters here at home and around the world, has been replaced with a self-righteous dogma of America First - as if America weren't already first. Caring about those outside our own tribe, respecting the rights and feelings of those who are different from ourselves, supporting policies of treating everyone as we would like to be treated, these things are labeled woke, weak, or DEI, all modern-day American mortal sins, if not outright illegal. Talk of opening our hearts, of getting together and everybody loving one another would be considered utterly laughable. Nobody would sing about those things these days.
But how I wish somebody would.

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Amish Country Mission Accomplished

To Amish Country, On A Mission

The Posse Joins Hands Across High Street

Our Visitors From Babenhausen, Part 2

​​Our Visitors From Babenhausen, Part 2

Our Visitors From Babenhausen, Part 1

​Our Visitors From Babenhausen, Part 1

Where Have All Those Love Songs Gone?

​Where Have All Those Love Songs Gone?

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Our Visitors From Babenhausen, Part 2

Our Visitors From Babenhausen, Part 1

Where Have All Those Love Songs Gone?