They’re at it again. The Amish. They’re gambling. Yes, that’s right. Gambling. Now you may think gambling is strictly forbidden in the Amish religion, and it is. But whatever is strictly forbidden has a sneaky way of boring right into the very fabric of a culture.
Of course, we never played bingo here. Never had a Catholic church in this town. We always had 18 Mennonite churches and one bar. The next town over had 18 bars and one church. You had to drive over to St. Mary’s to gamble. Bingo! The basement was dark and the priest left the lights off on purpose just in case an Amish person wanted to slip in.
Here in Freemartin Town gambling occurs at The Agitator, the local appliance store. We all go to the Agitator to buy our washing machines, dryers, and refrigerators. They even carry gas grills. The English buy the electric washing machines and dryers. The Amish buy new gas-powered refrigerators and old refurbished wringer washing machines. Yes, the Amish have washing machines and refrigerators. They can use bottled gas, not electricity. The Amish don’t buy gas dryers. Instead, they use solar dryers, stringing a piece of rope between two trees and hanging their wash on the line.
The restless Amish buy gas grills, not exactly a forbidden item, but not exactly a sanctioned one, either. I can usually tell when an Old Order Amish family is about to convert to Mennonite, a more liberal sect. First, the men build a wrap-around deck around the house. They may add a wheelchair ramp to give the impression that they will soon be taking care of their elders. But then a gas grill appears on the deck just outside the kitchen door. Mmm, mmm. The smell of barbeque chicken floats through the neighborhood. Then a teenager dashes out the door, crosses the deck and hops in a car—a black car—but a speeding car dashing down the road, rock music blaring. Yup, that’s the order of rebellion: deck, grill, car. Desires have a way of accelerating.
So it wasn’t too hard for The Agitator to start their betting pool in Freemartin Town. Every 30-40 years The Agitator plugs in one of their washing machines, and the townspeople come in and place bets on how long it can run without a repair. In January, 1986, The Agitator plugged in a Maytag washer and we all lined up outside on the sidewalk to come in and write down a date and time on little slips of paper. July 5, 1986, 10:00 a.m. I wrote, and dropped the paper in a cardboard box. No washing machine, no matter how good, can run day or night for more than six months without pooping out, I thought. Jake Bontrager, the bishop, stood in line behind me and guessed the contest would end in three months.
“You people with your electricity,” Jake said, shaking his head.
“But Jake. Why are you entering the contest, then? You know the prize is a Maytag microwave oven.”
“Oh, we can deal with that,” Jake said, exiting The Agitator and untying his horse and buggy from the hitching post.
A few years after that, my neighbor Donna ended up driving Jake to Des Moines to appear before the state Racing and Gambling Commission. A developer from Chicago had bought a farm on the highway and intended to build a big casino there. The rule was that casinos in the state needed to be built on rivers—like the Mississippi or Missouri—where they historically belonged. The purchased farm wasn’t on a river, not even a tributary. Not even a creek. So the Chicago folks were already busy digging a ditch to connect with the Amish River, and they were going to put that casino right next to it. A riverboat gambling casino on a ditch!
Well, that was one way of getting around the state law. But the letter of the Amish law was: no vices like gambling.
DITCH the DITCH signs began to pop up in front of Mennonite houses on the highway, households that were supposed to stay out of politics.
ROLL THE DICE WAY ON DOWN THE ROAD.
BAN THE ONE-ARMED BANDIT!
“We don’t want the traffic,” Jake told the Racing and Gaming Commission. “And we don’t want the low life that comes with a casino.”
The Gaming Commission decided to put the issue up for a county vote. The Amish, of course, don’t vote. Jake’s appearance before the commission was an exception that showed just how concerned the group was about the casino. In the end, the Amish had to just sit at home and wait for the English to decide.
The English thought that the casino would bring revenue to Freemartin Town with tourists eating at our local restaurants and shopping in our antique stores. The resolution passed, but now the gamblers come to the casino to gamble and eat in their own restaurant, shopping in their own gift shop. The gamblers never leave the building, never have a thought for our bakery, or café, or for antiques. Freemartin Town did receive funding from the casino for a couple of park benches. For that, we’re grateful. And the casino sponsored one of our concrete quilts we embedded in the sidewalk during our downtown renovation. The quilt pattern was called “Card Trick.”
Photo: Mary Swander J
And now I’m urging The Agitator to announce another washing machine contest. Apparently, the townspeople have been complaining that their appliance store no longer carries those long-running Maytags. Maytag, manufactured in Newton, has closed, the factory converted to producing wind turbine blades. And then the factory stopped even making the blades. So how are we to trust these new Japanese washing machines we see in the store window? How long will they last? Didn’t that same company make cell phones? I don’t need to text my washing machine.
The Agitator assured its customers that the Japanese machines would last as long as the Maytags. Prove it, we said. Plug one in and start a new contest. And there Jake and I will be again in line, writing down our guesses on little slips of paper. This time, the prize will be one of Ruby, the grossmommie’s, shoo-fly pies. This time, I’ll guess the machine will last for two years. But naw, Jake will say, that cheap thing will never hold up like a Maytag. He’ll guess three months.
For now, we’re all waiting, sitting on those Casino park benches, waiting to cast our lots, waiting to hear the music of the washing machine at The Agitator Shop chug, chug, chug away into the night.
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Laughing out loud. Wonderful, sly good natured stories as always. I am please to say that my copy of Heaven-and-Earth House arrived today. It's next in line as my morning lectio divina.
Nicely done, again, Mary! Love your stories. Rings of Trouble in River City of course!
Laughing out loud. Wonderful, sly good natured stories as always. I am please to say that my copy of Heaven-and-Earth House arrived today. It's next in line as my morning lectio divina.