This story by Larry L. Beachy DDS was sent in his family letter April 26, 2014. Larry gave permission to share it with all of you on this Beachy Family Stories Blog site. Thanks Larry.
Creative- nonfiction
Life's
journey-Humbleness
The license plate on the
back of the beat up pick truck read, “Indiana -amber waves of grain”.
We grow very little grain,
mostly soybeans and corn. I thought to myself, Amber waves of stalks is what it
should read.
Only our Amish raise oats
to feed their horses. Everyone knows about Indiana’s basketball but not many
know about our Amish.
Extremely conservative,the
Amish work hard trying to live the simple life.
My parents were raised
Amish. I feel a kinship with my Amish neighbors and in most legal and political
battles I stand beside them. It was at the expense of this kinship that I
learned a great lesson while traveling down Life’s Journey.
Picture a beautiful spring
day in Indiana. One of those
early morning days, where
the farmers have their big four wheel John Deer tractors out running with six
bottom plows on the back. Every dirt road has two or three rigs
running from one field to
the other.
It was on a day like this
that I witnessed a dangerous and carless act. I was heading west on a gravel
road. An Amish horse and buggy was just ahead of me and in front of him was a
big John Deer tractor with a 6 bottom plow pulling along behind. We were strung
out like a funeral procession and were progressing at about the same
speed.
The John Deer slowed down.
The amish buggy decided to pass. The driver slapped his horse and the buggy
picked up speed. As the buggy pulled up beside the big Green Machine the driver
of the tractor gave it the gas. Now we had both lanes occupied and any on coming
traffic was confronted with the possibility of a head on accident with a horse
and buggy.
Finally the amishman pulled
back hard on the reins and the horse and buggy dropped back into the right hand
lane of traffic. Fortunately I had also pulled back when I saw what that numb
skull driving the tractor was doing. The on coming traffic passed us by
safely.
He did it again! The John
Deer slowed way down! Out went the buggy to pass. Sure enough when the buggy
drew up even with the tractor, the tractor sped up again. The horse was now in a
dead heat with the tractor, it’s head was extended, foam was flying out of its
mouth, and the whip was snapping across its flanks. Again the Green machine won.
Running at a dangerously fast speed the big rig wobbled back and forth across
the road, kicking up gravel and keeping the horse at bay.
I waited my turn. Finally
the horse and buggy pulled back into my lane behind the tractor and rig.
I was driving a Ford
station wagon with the biggest engine Ford motor company produced. It was called
the interceptor, because Ford was installing those engines in police cars all
across the nation. I kicked the interceptor into passing gear and flew past the
horse and buggy, horn blaring. I passed the six bottom plow and the big green
John Deer.
Now it was time to act! I
pulled the Station wagon in front of the tractor and applied the brakes. When
both the tractor and my station wagon were stopped, I
jumped out and ran back to
give the tractor driver a piece of my mind.
Just as I suspected, the
tractor was being driven by some young kid, probably 13 or 14 years old. In the
“Amber waves of grain”, state you CAN’T drive a motor vehicle until you are 16
and pass a drivers education course. HOWEVER YOU CAN drive a tractor or farm
machinery as soon as your legs are long enough to reach the pedals.
I reminded him what the
laws of the highway were. Just in case he didn’t remember, I recited all of them
to him.
I asked him just what he
thought he was doing on that road blocking that Amish buggy from passing? I
didn’t give him a chance to answer, before I proceeded with my next tongue
lashing. I knew I was getting through to him because I could see his eyes
getting bigger and bigger. By now he was still shaking his head yes, but he was
looking beyond me like he had lost his focus. I wasn’t going to put up with
that. I commanded respect, pay attention to what I am saying. You better look at
me and listen when I am talking to you. Finally I ran out of steam. The Amish
buggy had passed and was long gone. I straightened my shoulders like a drill
Sargent that had just chewed out a buck-private. Just as I was ready to do an
about face, I heard a tiny voice.
The voice was a little
shaky, but very clear. “Hey mister your station wagon rolled in the ditch, you
want me to pull you out?”
