Under the Sun

Sometimes those on-line sites for driving directions really screw up. Yesterday, April 16, we drove 135 miles on interstate roads, then made our exit, paid the troll, and, following the directions, turn a hard right off of a nice state highway on to a county road. "How far do we go on this?" I ask. "Three point five miles," replies my wife.

It was a great day for a drive in the country: bright sun, no clouds, temperature mid-fifties. We have been under cold clouds much of this month in the Midwest, and haven't had a sunny day like this for weeks.

Nothing but farm country Indiana, of course, as I would expect, along this county road. But details told us we were in unfamiliar territory. A farm house with several lines of wash blowing in wind and sun. Another one. Lots of dark-colored clothing. No parked cars. My suspicion was confirmed when I noticed that none of the houses were feeding off of power lines. The lines stayed put high up, running parallel to the road. At one point they disappeared completely. "Amish," I said.

In the field in the sun labored a man, and a horse, with a plow. Why did the computer lead us on to this slow narrow road, when the state highway at 55 mph would have whizzed us into town?

The town was getting nearer as we turned east: here and there a power line branched off the road to a house. A car stood in a driveway. But then came the computer's big screw up: dead ahead two road-blockades with large signs: stop. local school traffic only. Ahead some distance off was a school where I assume some of the local farm families sent their children. I thought about that Amish school where children were shot last year. Perhaps they were now restricting traffic around these schools, wherever it was feasible, as a precaution?

We detoured a long way north to a state road and finally found our way into town. My wife remarked at how deeply Christian the surrounding area was, and how the town, with all of its stores and craft shops, was also unashamedly Christian. All sorts of Christian books, plaques, carvings, with biblical references, were on display. She mentioned the deeply Christian witness of those Amish who forgave the shooter who killed their children at school.

It was past time for lunch, and we found a small restaurant where many of the locals ate. We ordered the daily special, a "chicken melt sandwich," and homemade soup, with pie for dessert. The waitress was friendly and chatty, but not too much. Like the meal, just right.

After we started dessert and the last cup of coffee, she came over and asked us if we had heard about the terrible school shooting. No. At least twenty-two students had been shot at a college in Virginia. "Lord, have mercy."

A bit later we drove to a shop owned by a Mennonite family, looking for furniture. The door was open but no one was inside. We looked about; then a young blond boy passed through the room. We said hello, and he greeted us with a smile on his way out. A minute or so later, his father came into and greeted us. Another, older, son followed. Mom was next door painting, you see, so she sent the boy over to fetch Dad, he tells us.

The owner helped us with our many questions. His sons watched him much of the time, dealing with the city folks. We made a deal.  The boys were polite, sharp, bright-eyed, and not shy. They were also taken with the fact that my wife had homeschooled our youngest.

"We have six children and nine grandchildren," my wife said. No jaws dropped, and instead there were encouraging smiles. "I'm one of seven," the father said, and "we have six right now." The oldest is 17. The older of two boys in the shop said how he liked living in the country and couldn't imagine living in the city. He would miss the woods right behind his house, for one thing. He didn't want to move away from his family.

"You've got the right idea," we said. I thought about the news we heard in the diner and wondered if they had yet heard. His wife had been busy painting in the house and he had been in a back shop working. The store, unlike some of those in town, had no background music to keep the shoppers happy, and certainly no radio. I refused to even consider telling them about the school slayings. They'll find out, perhaps, soon enough. Soon enough.

We returned to town, browsed a bit, stayed for dinner, and headed west, back home, into the bright sun, which finally cast long shadows  toward evening as we drove through downtown Chicago, arriving at our house as twilight began. We were safe, but others were in agony over the news from Virginia.

Thank God for the setting sun, I've often thought, so that whatever takes place on any day can finally become past, while we sleep awaiting as many dawns as it takes to dull the pain. May those Mennonite children, and our own, be spared such terrors under the sun.

Comments

[David Gray]

>The point was that soldiers do have to be highly trained to react quickly and decisively in such situations.

Which has little or no relation to being programmed as a robot.

>As I said, I'm not necessarily referring to people here.

Then you would appear to have even less information on which to form such a judgement.

[Juli]

Then you would appear to have even less information on which to form such a judgement.

?? Because I've made the observation about people whose service records I *do* know?

[David Gray]

>?? Because I've made the observation about people whose service records I *do* know?

Got it. This is not a broadly applicable principle but rather is limited to your social setting and class.

[Stuart Koehl]

David and I have some serious theological disagreements, but he and I agree on this matter 100%, probably because we have direct and extended esperience in the field.

[Juli]

Got it. This is not a broadly applicable principle but rather is limited to your social setting and class.

I can form general impresssions from what people say on internet forums, but as you say, we know very little about each other beyond our personas on this blog. So, as with the comments in another thread about patriotism, we have our subjective impressions and our tendency to generalize from them ...

How would my observation (or a claim to the contrary) be demonstrated as "broadly applicable"? Would we need statistical data correlating military service records with expressions of bravado? Of course my own experience - including on the internet - is shaped by my social setting and class, which are probably fairly similar to yours.

If the point of responding to me is one-upmanship, that's fine - but if we're having a conversation, what response (from me or anyone) would indicate that someone has the authority to claim something as "broadly applicable"? I made an observation (a mere comment) and was told that I (we) don't know which posters here have served in the military.

I agreed, because that's obviously true, and said I was speaking from personal experience, and then *that* was dismissed as being limited to my "social standing and class." Of course, I may be lying about my experience, just as anyone here may be lying about having (or not having) experience in the military. But if the only comments that count here are those that include objective evidence that they are broadly applicable, most commenters here fall short - after all, this is Mere Comments and not Wikipedia.

[David Gray]

>Of course my own experience - including on the internet - is shaped by my social setting and class, which are probably fairly similar to yours.

Probably not based on your previous statements.

[Stuart Koehl]

>>>How would my observation (or a claim to the contrary) be demonstrated as "broadly applicable"? Would we need statistical data correlating military service records with expressions of bravado? Of course my own experience - including on the internet - is shaped by my social setting and class, which are probably fairly similar to yours.<<<

Well, I base my assessments on whether the statements a person makes illustrate some mastery of basic facts. Everyone is entitled to his own opinion, but no one is entitled to his own facts. When in the course of a discussion about war, military affairs, and homeland security, a person shows total ignorance of the nuts and bolts, why should I have any confidence in the intellectual construct that person is erecting? Conversely, if one does not have a grasp of the nuts and bolts, one cannot tell whether the structure is sound. Unfortunately, there is really only one way to master the nuts and bolts, and that is by living with them for many years. I started in this business in 1979. I'm entitled to an opinion.

[David Gray]

>David and I have some serious theological disagreements

A bit off topic but while you are entirely correct what amazes me, in light of what I learned growing up, is that those disagreements aren't more comprehensive and that there is as much common ground as there is. Perhaps that is one of the things I appreciate about Touchstone is its role in bringing about that understanding which at times gives substantial pleasure.

[Bill R]

"Perhaps that is one of the things I appreciate about Touchstone is its role in bringing about that understanding which at times gives substantial pleasure."

Amen to that. What would church history have been like if we'd had the internet for, say, the last 2000 years or so?

[Stuart Koehl]

>>>Amen to that. What would church history have been like if we'd had the internet for, say, the last 2000 years or so?<<<

Either all would be one, or all would be dead. I see it as being much like the "babelfish" in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: if put into one's ear, it allowed one to understand everything being said regardless of language. It's proliferation led to a war that wiped out all intelligent life in the solar system where it was found.

[Bill R]

"It's proliferation led to a war that wiped out all intelligent life in the solar system where it was found."

Sort of like a governmental agency?

[Stuart Koehl]

>>>Sort of like a governmental agency?<<<

There was a similar short story in which people woke up one day to discover they could read the thoughts of all their pets. Every last pet was dead by the end of the week. Which is my way of saying that full and open communication is not the solution to all disagreements. Sometimes discreet silence or deliberate ambiguity is much to be preferred.

[Bill R]

"Sometimes discreet silence or deliberate ambiguity is much to be preferred."

Inscrutable. And very Eastern, Stuart.

[Judy Warner]

Eastern? Sounds like something Miss Manners would say.

[David Gray]

>Eastern? Sounds like something Miss Manners would say.

Well she was an Easterner wasn't she?

[Bill R]

Stuart...Miss Manners? Separated at birth?!