Post by Bozur on Oct 23, 2005 12:22:41 GMT -5
Loyal Journal
Amish May Be Good Neighbors, but Not Their Horses
By ALEXEI BARRIONUEVO
Published: October 18, 2005
LOYAL, Wis., Oct. 14 - For years, the residents of this small town surrounded by dairy farms have tried to get along with their Amish neighbors, who commute in horse-drawn buggies to banks and stores in town.
Andy Manis for The New York Times
Amish in Loyal, Wis., will not put orange triangles on buggies, using instead white reflective tape.
Andy Manis for The New York Times
Emanuel Miller, right, with Sam Hershberger at a municipal meeting last week, said safety was a factor in cleaning up after horses.
But horse droppings keep getting in the way. They often land at Inga Larsen's driveway, making an adventure out of walking to the mailbox for Ms. Larsen, who is 92 and uses a cane.
The Methodist church, on a busy corner, is particularly unlucky. When the buggies pull up to a stop sign there, horses often relieve themselves. JoAnn Oestreich, who lives next to the church, said she stopped opening her windows because the stench and flies were unbearable.
"With all the other things we have to do in life, you just get sick and tired of cleaning up the horse manure," Gladys Zuehlke, Ms. Larsen's daughter, said.
There is the health concern. "Maybe horse manure does not carry illness, but flies do," Ms. Zuehlke said.
Three years ago, people in this town of 1,300 thought that they had settled the dispute with a gentlemen's agreement in which the Amish promised to stay off certain well-traveled roads and to clean up regularly at a handful of hitching posts.
In return, the town dropped a proposal to force the Amish to put manure-catching "diapers" on the bottoms of the buggies and to clean up all droppings or be fined. The Amish, offended by the tone of the debate, withdrew some of their savings from Loyal banks and boycotted city businesses for about a year.
Now the dispute has returned, and in a meeting on Thursday residents related their grievances for nearly two hours and debated a suggestion to limit the Amish to truck routes around the town. Residents said that the Amish had not been keeping the hitching posts clean and that the manure continued to cause trouble. Several business owners and the mayor expressed concern that irritating the Amish could cause a new boycott. The City Council plans to discuss the problem again on Tuesday.
Although some residents fret that the bickering is as embarrassing as, well, the manure itself, the debate displays fissures in the seemingly cordial relations between the Amish and "the English," what the Amish call non-Amish. The Amish are a Christian sect that favors plain dress and plain living, with little or no reliance on modern conveniences like electricity, cars or telephones. In Wisconsin, with the fourth-largest Amish population after Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana, their numbers are growing, exceeding 10,400 in 2002, said Ingolf Vogeler, a geography professor at the University of Wisconsin, Eau Claire, 50 miles west of Loyal.
Around Loyal, the Amish population has grown to 85 families, or more than 500 people, since the first two families arrived in 1989 from Ohio. The Amish have been loath to defend themselves. Two representatives declined to speak Thursday, watching silently.
Emanuel Miller, head of one of the two original families, said in an interview that safety concerns prevented the Amish from cleaning up more manure, though he acknowledged that they could do a better job at the hitching posts. He said it was dangerous to stop carriages every time the horses relieved themselves.
This month, cars chased down a horse that ran off with an empty buggy just after an Amish woman had untied it. Amish in nearby Augusta found that manure-catchers, which that city imposed about 10 years ago, spooked some young horses, Mr. Miller said. He added that that he would like to think the manure debate was an isolated problem.
"Over all, I would say we have come to a real good community here," he said Friday. "There are a few oddballs, but the vast majority are very nice people around here. I don't detect any prejudice as a whole."
Still, at breakfast at Grandma's Kitchen last week, a group of older women spoke about a host of concerns. They recounted that at a funeral three years ago at the Methodist church, the American Legion drill team halted before firing a salute so it could step away from a manure pile. The women also said motorists had a hard time seeing the buggies at night because the Amish had refused to put bright orange slow-moving-vehicle signs on their buggies, as some Amish in other places have.
Courts in Michigan, Minnesota and Wisconsin have upheld the right, based on freedom of religious expression, to use white reflective tape rather than the usual orange triangle, which some Amish consider a symbol of the non-Amish world.
Ms. Zuehlke, a nurse, said workers at her hospital could "never understand" young Amish children, who grow up speaking German. But she said her mother had, at least, used some of the manure to fertilize her backyard flower garden.
"The English community has a number of things they are upset about," said Harvey M. Jacobs, a professor in the urban and regional planning department at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, who has studied the Wisconsin Amish.
"The non-Amish community is feeling a sense of alienation, a confusion and anger," Professor Jacobs said, adding that its attitude was one of "these people live amongst us and yet don't live with us."
"The horse issue is a way that can express itself," he said.
Residents also fault the city for not cleaning the streets better.
[Mayor Randy Anderson said on Monday that the question boiled down to economics. City crews clean with a sweeper a few times a week, Mr. Anderson said."How many times do you send a city crew out there to clean up?" ]
Some business owners are clearly concerned about how the Amish will react if pushed. Tom Zettler, who owns the town's hardware store, said he relied on the Amish for a quarter of his business and watched Amish business drop to "almost nothing" in the 2002 debate.
"I don't believe this is just about horse manure," Mr. Zettler said. "The issue is these people are different than any of the people around here, and that's unfortunate."
If an ordinance restricts manure, Mr. Miller said, "we would avoid Loyal as much as we could."
As for health questions, Mr. Miller said: "This is so highly biodegradable. The good lord created the horse as a beast of burden, and he created it so it would not be so offensive an animal. The manure is much more unsightly than hazardous to health."
Gretchen Ruethling contributed reporting from Chicago for this article.
Amish May Be Good Neighbors, but Not Their Horses
By ALEXEI BARRIONUEVO
Published: October 18, 2005
LOYAL, Wis., Oct. 14 - For years, the residents of this small town surrounded by dairy farms have tried to get along with their Amish neighbors, who commute in horse-drawn buggies to banks and stores in town.
Andy Manis for The New York Times
Amish in Loyal, Wis., will not put orange triangles on buggies, using instead white reflective tape.
Andy Manis for The New York Times
Emanuel Miller, right, with Sam Hershberger at a municipal meeting last week, said safety was a factor in cleaning up after horses.
But horse droppings keep getting in the way. They often land at Inga Larsen's driveway, making an adventure out of walking to the mailbox for Ms. Larsen, who is 92 and uses a cane.
The Methodist church, on a busy corner, is particularly unlucky. When the buggies pull up to a stop sign there, horses often relieve themselves. JoAnn Oestreich, who lives next to the church, said she stopped opening her windows because the stench and flies were unbearable.
"With all the other things we have to do in life, you just get sick and tired of cleaning up the horse manure," Gladys Zuehlke, Ms. Larsen's daughter, said.
There is the health concern. "Maybe horse manure does not carry illness, but flies do," Ms. Zuehlke said.
Three years ago, people in this town of 1,300 thought that they had settled the dispute with a gentlemen's agreement in which the Amish promised to stay off certain well-traveled roads and to clean up regularly at a handful of hitching posts.
In return, the town dropped a proposal to force the Amish to put manure-catching "diapers" on the bottoms of the buggies and to clean up all droppings or be fined. The Amish, offended by the tone of the debate, withdrew some of their savings from Loyal banks and boycotted city businesses for about a year.
Now the dispute has returned, and in a meeting on Thursday residents related their grievances for nearly two hours and debated a suggestion to limit the Amish to truck routes around the town. Residents said that the Amish had not been keeping the hitching posts clean and that the manure continued to cause trouble. Several business owners and the mayor expressed concern that irritating the Amish could cause a new boycott. The City Council plans to discuss the problem again on Tuesday.
Although some residents fret that the bickering is as embarrassing as, well, the manure itself, the debate displays fissures in the seemingly cordial relations between the Amish and "the English," what the Amish call non-Amish. The Amish are a Christian sect that favors plain dress and plain living, with little or no reliance on modern conveniences like electricity, cars or telephones. In Wisconsin, with the fourth-largest Amish population after Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana, their numbers are growing, exceeding 10,400 in 2002, said Ingolf Vogeler, a geography professor at the University of Wisconsin, Eau Claire, 50 miles west of Loyal.
Around Loyal, the Amish population has grown to 85 families, or more than 500 people, since the first two families arrived in 1989 from Ohio. The Amish have been loath to defend themselves. Two representatives declined to speak Thursday, watching silently.
Emanuel Miller, head of one of the two original families, said in an interview that safety concerns prevented the Amish from cleaning up more manure, though he acknowledged that they could do a better job at the hitching posts. He said it was dangerous to stop carriages every time the horses relieved themselves.
This month, cars chased down a horse that ran off with an empty buggy just after an Amish woman had untied it. Amish in nearby Augusta found that manure-catchers, which that city imposed about 10 years ago, spooked some young horses, Mr. Miller said. He added that that he would like to think the manure debate was an isolated problem.
"Over all, I would say we have come to a real good community here," he said Friday. "There are a few oddballs, but the vast majority are very nice people around here. I don't detect any prejudice as a whole."
Still, at breakfast at Grandma's Kitchen last week, a group of older women spoke about a host of concerns. They recounted that at a funeral three years ago at the Methodist church, the American Legion drill team halted before firing a salute so it could step away from a manure pile. The women also said motorists had a hard time seeing the buggies at night because the Amish had refused to put bright orange slow-moving-vehicle signs on their buggies, as some Amish in other places have.
Courts in Michigan, Minnesota and Wisconsin have upheld the right, based on freedom of religious expression, to use white reflective tape rather than the usual orange triangle, which some Amish consider a symbol of the non-Amish world.
Ms. Zuehlke, a nurse, said workers at her hospital could "never understand" young Amish children, who grow up speaking German. But she said her mother had, at least, used some of the manure to fertilize her backyard flower garden.
"The English community has a number of things they are upset about," said Harvey M. Jacobs, a professor in the urban and regional planning department at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, who has studied the Wisconsin Amish.
"The non-Amish community is feeling a sense of alienation, a confusion and anger," Professor Jacobs said, adding that its attitude was one of "these people live amongst us and yet don't live with us."
"The horse issue is a way that can express itself," he said.
Residents also fault the city for not cleaning the streets better.
[Mayor Randy Anderson said on Monday that the question boiled down to economics. City crews clean with a sweeper a few times a week, Mr. Anderson said."How many times do you send a city crew out there to clean up?" ]
Some business owners are clearly concerned about how the Amish will react if pushed. Tom Zettler, who owns the town's hardware store, said he relied on the Amish for a quarter of his business and watched Amish business drop to "almost nothing" in the 2002 debate.
"I don't believe this is just about horse manure," Mr. Zettler said. "The issue is these people are different than any of the people around here, and that's unfortunate."
If an ordinance restricts manure, Mr. Miller said, "we would avoid Loyal as much as we could."
As for health questions, Mr. Miller said: "This is so highly biodegradable. The good lord created the horse as a beast of burden, and he created it so it would not be so offensive an animal. The manure is much more unsightly than hazardous to health."
Gretchen Ruethling contributed reporting from Chicago for this article.