Pa. police arrest Amish man in buggy for DUI
(12-08) 18:18 PST Lancaster, Pa. (AP) --
Police in central Pennsylvania arrested an Amish man on drunk driving charges over the weekend after he was found asleep in his moving buggy. Police said a 22-year-old man was slumped over and asleep in a slow-moving buggy on Sunday night.
An off-duty officer from nearby reported seeing the horse pulling the buggy at a walking pace as it straddled the center line.
Police said a breathalyzer test snowed the man's blood-alcohol content was 0.18, more than twice the 0.08 legal limit for driver
This is the scene we most typically associate with Amish country, bucolic countryside taken from the post Civil War era. A society of peace, hard work, piety and devotion to their religion and it's principles in a most profound and life affirming way. A hearty and warm people after you get to know them, simple in the way they live, but far from simple in their ability to figure out the best way to raise a family and stay wholesome, almost pure. When I look at a scene like that I wonder, after living here in the Fall River of late, if they haven't got the right idea.
They also show their expressive side in the work they accomplish, the way they wield their tools to create funiture and buildings. To you and I, we might think, "Oh yeah, just another boring plain looking simple bed" or "Oh yeah, just another perfect looking barn", or even "Oh yeah, how boringly lovely, that simple looking community meeting center and church, how great that must look at Christmas time at night with a blanket of snow all around and simple home made candles shining in each window." But these crazy katzenjammer kids have individual style on a scale we could easily relate to!
Take Jan (pronounced Y-A-N) for instance. (for the purposes of this story, his name is "Jan", but I'm sure it's more likely "Horst"- or "Willy" -pronounced "V-I-L-L-Y"). Here he was, just comtemplating his life without modern conveniences, and no Steeler games on the tube, let alone an MP3 player full of Marilyn Manson or the latest version of "Grand Theft Auto" to lose himself in instead of the nightly bible reading and prayer session. A doule barrelled 12 gague isn't quite the same as a "niner" pointed in cocked gang position, is it Jan?
Feeling particularly sorry for himself, here he was, a short ride from home, while driving his "whip" through the center of the nearby town, when he noticed a really cute 17 year old cheerleader, still in uniform after a Sunday afternoon donation collection drive for new cheerleading outfits at the local supermarket. His thoughts turned to his life, the utter uselessness of boots full of cow dung and chicken dung and horse dung. Yes, to young Jan, he carried the weight of the world's dung on his shoulders. Not unlike many of us, I'll venture. BUT, I digress.
Driving his private DUNEbuggy a bit faster now, making his horse jaunt with a quicker, higher step, he tried to impress the young lady with his ride, and actually tipped his straw hat at her, his whispy , close cropped beard not flowing, just tickling him a bit as the air rushed, er, sort of patty-caked his cheeks as he strutted his, and the horse's, stuff. Unfortunately for Jan, a horse is a horse of course, of course, and this horse only spoke the common horse language of dung. With each faster step was let loose more and more of the straw filled dung, some chunks flying off onto the sidewalk, just missing the lovely young cheerleader, causing her face to contort is anger and disgust as only her hours of training and quick stepping allowed her to miss being ankle deep in the farmers greatest smelly gift.
Now, completely distraught , he recoiled at the horror in which he placed himself. Slowing the pace a bit, and not daring to look back, he continued down Main Street of this small town, until he decided to pull over to collect his thoughts. He looked up and saw that he was in front of a very friendly looking establishment called "The Half King". He thought, for a self deluding moment, "My, there are bicycles here, maybe there are other of my kind inside."
Yes, indeed, there were.
Entering meekly, he took off his Straw hat and approached the bar. He thought, just a quick glass of well water, maybe even a sweet tea, and he'd be gone before anyone would notice. Besides, who would know. Not that his ride outside was unsual! He'd blend nicely, he thought. That's when he saw her, his cousin Wendy, with whom he had completed his "Rumspringa". Rumspringa is a right of passage for young Amish folk to see if the pastoral life is one they wish to continue, or if the fruits of the world outside are what they desire. Once completed, within Amish life there was no real alternative without some degree of shame. However, it can be an eye opening event to these young pilgrims. How could it not be. It had been to Wendy, that was obvious.
His cousin sat at the end of the bar like a Saturday night veteran, sucking on the business end of a Winston and still holding the plastic cigarette lighter ,with a Nascar driver's face emblazoned in bright red and blue , in the same hand as the cigarette. Sitting in front of her was a half finished Rolling Rock. He watched her take a big ol' swig of it like it was second nature , and she alternated between puffs of the Winston and gulps of beer like she was a factory worker just getting off a nightshift of making tractors. She still hadn't noticed cousin Jan staring at her in disbelief because her eyes were glued to the TV screen playing "Desperate Housewives". She really liked the soap opera-ish Wisteria Lane contrived controversy. That's when she noticed cousin Jan.
It all came rushing back to him like a wave. The week of Rumspringa they both had spent in Vegas. As soon as they saw the lights on the Vegas strip it was a done deal. Walking through a casino to get to their rooms, Jan, still adorned in his bib-overalls and straw hat, was approached by two "friends" just fresh from a winning streak at the blackjack tables. The two blondes offered to help both Jan and Wendy to their rooms, saying they had been there for a couple of days and that the maze of hallways would be easier to navigate with tour guides. After getting Wendy settled in, they escorted Jan to his room. They had money and loved the idea of AWAKENING the virgin beast within Jan, in all the ways they could imagine. They had great imaginations, which always included their favorite elixer, Cristal. Afterall , he was 18 and in very good shape. Well.....let's just say nature took it's course. The young man's world, as they say, was ROCKED. For six days. The boy had never seen a woman wearing spiked heels and Victoria's Secret lingere before this. By the fifth day the two ladies were afraid the young lad was brain damaged because he had a constant half demented grin on his face, even just ordering dinner at a restaurant. He seemed to float about three inches off the ground where ever they went. Even in bed...which they liked...alot.
Wendy also had her moments. Her first night upon arrival, she read a Vegas Events newspaper, and her eyes literally bulged out a quarter inch when she saw the full page color ad on the inside back cover for the " Thunder from Down Under" all male nude review from Australia. She immediately hailed a cab and made a beeline to the casino where they performed. After a half dozen Foster's Lagers, this sweet, milk colored skinned young woman from Amish farmland in Pennsylvania, was on stage, half nekkid, twirling her blouse overhead in time to the blaring rock music, being cheared on by the crowd, and finally carried offstage by the entire cast, held above their heads with arms extended, like she was a spasaming , funky log. Rumspringa triumph within four hours of landing in Las Vegas. OUTSTANDING!
Wendy hooked up with the man holding her "rumpspringa" during the procession offstage. They spent a wild set of late evening trysts, after his preformances, where she learned many new and exciting things, like "shrimp on the barbie", "six pack", "menage a trois", "body shots" , "spank me harder, now" and "G'day, my crazy little sheela." Wow, she thought....some crazee times, crazeeee times! WHEW!
Now it's just under four years later, and there they were, still struggling to maintain their commitment to live the Amish life, yearning for things that could never be again. Or could they? Jan took his place next to Wendy, and then started a veritable orgy of beer guzzling and boiler maker devouring for two hours straight. Other bar patrons thought it odd that this, apparently, married Amish couple were chain smoking Winstons and throwing beer nuts at the TV Screen every time a picture of Sarah Palin was shown during a replay of her CNN morining news program interview by Wolf Blitzer. They sure as hell wanted nothing to do with the scriptures right at this particular moment. Nope, they were entertaining themselves by seeing which one could say the phrase "Lallapalooza" three times in a row without making a mistake, the loser to take another shot of Ouzo. It had been an hour since anyone had gotten it right. Greece thanked them both.
Finally, Jan said he had to get home before he was missed. Wendy snorted out " too late mate, your shrimp will be on the barbie for sure!" Wendy then declared she would walk home...in the morining. She went back to throwing beer nuts at the TV screen every time the "Shamwow" commercial was shown during the "Late Night Poker" broadcast.
Jan stumbled out the door and into his rig. Down the street he went, oblivious and with his eyes unable to focus without great difficulty, with each squint feeling like someone was squeezing the sides of his head at the same time. So he stopped squinting and let the horse do the work. He slumped over a bit, almost passed out, but still technically awake.
While Jan was trying to see the road, the man following behind him all the way from The Half King bar was able to see the silouette of a slumping young man and a horse that was dragging a buggy behind him, in the middle of the road. As good as these animals were, there was no recorded history of a horse passing a "rules of the road" test at the DMV. The off-duty police officer had stopped downtown to pick up milk for the kids morning breakfast when he saw this Amish man leave the Bar. In complete disbelief, his curiosity got the better of him and he follwed the buggy from behind. Now he had seen enough. He pulled along side the buggy on this narrow, vacant country road.
A startled Jan pulled the rig over to the side of the road. The shock of realizing there was someone wathcing him was already wearing off as the officer approached the rig.
"Hello there, son, having a tough time tonight?"
"No, no, not at all Offl..offl..umm..Offli- sir. I'm just dandy sir - youuu want to buy my trusty steed , right here, this horse?"
"Ok there son, maybe you should climb down from there and let me see your eyes."
"I'll let you know I see puuuurfltly Offli-sir. I'm as right as the rain. No...Really"
"Where are you coming from son....what's your name?"
"My name is Jan. Jan Man...hahaha...Jan Man sleeps In da Barn...ahhahaha"
OK, Ok that's enough out of you....here, stand still with your arms straight at your side and look at my light, ok? Good (while watching his eyes) what, are you on a local "Rumpstringa", or something ?"
" RUMSTRINGA JERRY SPRINGA DINGA DOO TO YOU TOO Offli-sir.....I don't want to talk anymore , I'M getting dizzy"
With that, Jan let loose with a large spew of vomit, which the officer needed his own dancing skills to avoid. He was not pleased.
Just then a Jeep CJ7 was driving buy, when a woman looking a whole bunch like Wendy struggled pulling up her long dress and petticoat to reveal a full moon to both Jan and the officer, yelling out "Arrest this, as%hole!"
The officer could do nothing but look at Jan and shake his head. He decided to do two things. First, he called the station and told them to bring the young man's parents to the scene. He knew that would be a much more severe and lasting punishment than a court appearence could muster. Second, he would have the parents drive the rig back home. At this point the officer only felt sorry for the horse. And that didn't last long either.
A dark country road with no lights is one dark road. And a horse is a horse, of course of course, and even when you can hear it and smell it, if you cannot see it , well......
The officer had left home for a short trip wearing his slip-ons, sans benefit of socks. And as the rig pulled away, the officer swore under his breath so the occupants of the rig could not hear him. The officer, however, could clearly hear Jan's father loudly repeat, over and over,"Mit Dose Kids, Society Is Nix!"
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