There was a barn fire near here a few weeks ago, and the
officials ruled that it resulted from improperly stored hay. Specifically, the hay was not allowed to dry
in the field long enough. The wet hay
eventually smoldered, and spontaneous combustion resulted in a fire that caused
a total loss for the hay and the barn.
Amish farmers are all too familiar with barn fires. A couple of times a summer, they hold a barn
raising for a family that has lost its barn to fire. More often than not, though, the cause of
Amish barn fires is lightning strikes.
The irony is that Amish people do not employ lightning rods to prevent
this, mostly for superstitious reasons.
They distrust electricity in many cases, and they believe lightning rods
invite attacks from the Devil. The logic
is circular and wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny, but the result is clearly that
Amish families have far more barn fires that other farmers do. That’s why we see so many barn raisings here.
At the barn raising in this picture, the men swarmed all day
over the structure, and slowly the frames, walls, and interior structures took
shape. A magnificent spread of food was laid
out on trestle tables by the women. Children
were asked to help if they were old enough, but the youngest ones were told to
stay well back from the work. Otherwise,
in one way or another, everyone in the church helped, and this barn was
finished and ready to use by the end of the day.
For English spectators like me, a barn raising is one of the
most intriguing sights in Holmes
County. Often these projects draw a crowd. Whether you admire the culture or not, I
suspect that if you were to watch one of these barns being constructed, you’d
have to admire the industry and dedication of the people. The communal dynamic is a strong cultural
imperative in Amish society, and few things speak so convincingly of oneness
and unity as a barn raising.
Labels: Amish, Amish Culture, Amish-Country Mysteries, Holmes County, P. L. Gaus