Down on the farm

When I was a young kid, my mother would occasionally pack up my brothers and I into the family car and cart us off for the hour to two hour drive to visit my grandparents or one of our aunts or uncles, who were Amish. My mother grew up Amish in rural Central Pennsylvania (think …

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A farmer, a car salesman, and a preacher walk into a bar

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and it's gotten me thinking lately about the road not taken: a car salesman, preacher, insurance carrier, farmer, and steel worker to name a few possible roads. These are all fine careers. When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to get out of my hometown and make …

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The farmer: A message of hope even in a time of despair

I wrote this piece more than twenty years ago when I worked as a reporter at a small newspaper and was sent out to cover a house fire that had come across the police scanner. The sad thing is that the piece never appeared anywhere - at least in the format that it now exists. Since the …

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