THE MASSES OF HUMANITY

They are still coming and going! Just sit in an appropriate place and you will see the “masses of humanity coming and going.” The big question (?) always arises to the top of my thinking like cream rises in a bowl of milk.

Where are they coming from and where are they going? That is the situation before us now!

As we recently sat in an airport coffee shop waiting for ourselves to become part of the “masses” I had a lot of time to reflect on this thought as I watched and watched. Short, tall, thin, plump, pretty, plain, intense, happy, old, young, sloppy, neat, piercings, tattoos, rich, poor, bald, trim, fit, stomachs hanging over belts, Starbuck types, McDonald types, ears full of cell phones, singles, duos, families, slow moving, fast moving, not moving, lost, found, overdressed, scantily clad, casual, formal, big “step” men, tiny “step” ladies, pretty hair, dyed hair, neat hair, long hair, no hair.

Is there a common theme? Sure! The masses of humanity coming and going, to and fro o’er the earth.

This activity took place on the eve of the 2008 Presidential election. I am imaging our country four years from now, regardless of who is elected the next president.

Then I remembered! This is not my final home. I’m just a “sojourner” here for a period of time. My faith is “the best is yet to come” regardless of the outcome of the election.

Where are the masses going and why? Do a few of them have the same hope I do? Do many of them have that same hope?

Now, please fast forward to an episode two weeks later on an Island in the South Pacific. Browsing in a hotel gift shop full of very beautiful and expensive jewelry we met the lady who owned the shop and designed all the beautiful items there in Lihue, Kauai, Hawaii.

She greeted us warmly with an answer on how she got there “by God’s Grace". People seem to always be on the move. So many we meet in Hawaii come there to live from other places. Our new acquaintance was one of them. A transplant. But wait, there is more to the story.

This lady was so concerned and interested in helping people in Haiti who were needy she was using all her income-not for self– but to help those who lack the bare necessities of living.

We had a most refreshing conversation and found it hard to break away as she shared her passion in helping others- the masses of humanity, coming and going. Made me think about myself. Do I have the same passion for others that she demonstrated?


October, 2008, in the LA Airport and the Hotel Gift Shop

THE DISAPPEARING ROOSTERS

The year was 1948 and I was 18 years old living in Livingston, California on a farm we called the “Sims Place”. Dad share-cropped this 40 acre vineyard from the owner, Mr. Sims, so the name “Sims Place” was were we lived. Grandfather A. A. Buller, and later his son, Alvin Buller had previously rented and farmed the land also.

Anyway, I was registered in High School in the FFA (Future Farmers of America) Program which required us to have a farm project generating money. I chose to be a “chicken farmer” and pioneered a new concept in raising chickens.

I built a pen two feet off the ground and made the bottom with (guess what?) chicken wire. The idea was that the residue of a fine meal by the chickens could drop through the wire mesh, land on the ground and be easily scooped up. I did not get a patent on this fine invention, thus I was doomed to a life of working for other people rather than to become a prosperous, independent, chicken farmer.

Anyway, I raised a breed of chickens called Leghorns, which originated in Leghorn, Italy, so the story goes. They are the most numerous breed we have in America today. I purchased the Leghorn chicks from the local farm supply store and raised them to eating size. They were called “pullets”. How many did I raise and how much money did I make off the endeavor. I cannot find that information on the hard drive of my computer (my brain).

Here is the “next” chapter in the Leghorn story…. Every farm has to have roosters to wake one up in the morning and to propagate the flock. So, I had two beautiful roosters that were my pride and joy. They were a good size and once I even built a wagon and used them to pull the wagon.

One bright spring day I returned home from school to find my two prize roosters missing. I searched and I searched but to no avail. In the evening I asked my dad where they were and he didn’t know. The mystery deepened. I even asked him point blank if they were going to turn up for the evening meal mom was going to cook. He said NO!

Several days later dad solved the mystery of the “missing roosters”. It seems he had been talking with the neighbor just across the ditch that separated our two houses. The neighbor reported that my roosters were always coming to his yard and he got tired of it so he did what farmers do when they want a farm animal to eat. He caught them, removed their heads, dressed them out and his wife cooked them. I was furious. Dad was calmer than me. What could we do now? Nothing!

End of story. One very unhappy teenager with less than pure thoughts about the neighbor. No more roosters to propagate the fledging chicken endeavor and the entire business faltered and I went into bankruptcy, all because of the “missing roosters.”

As I remember it on September 20, 2008 from the comfort of my city dwelling place and far removed from the wonderful smells of the countryside. Don Buller

THE DAD I KNEW

The dad I knew was a good provider for his family and a hard worker.

Dad at age 3

He was born in North Dakota in 1909 and at age eight became a cowboy, looking after the stock for his dad. My dad, Walter John Buller would brag the rest of his life about being a cowboy on the plains of N. Dakota.

By age 12 the Buller family had moved to California and he became a fruit picker. He never told us if that meant picking enough fruit for the breakfast meal or for the market.

Between the ages of 14-15 he would help patrol the water ditches of the Merced Irrigation District with his father looking for gopher holes that could wash the banks away. Oop's, there goes another gopher to oblivion.

He wanted to become a lawyer but his mother wouldn’t allow it– “that’s a sinful job” she opined. He was forced to stop school after eight years and go to work.

In the summers the Buller family would journey to San Jose, California, a growing city 50 miles south of San Francisco, to work in the canneries. OSHA wasn’t around in those days so my dad got a job in a fruit cannery stacking empty cans for the American Can company at age 16. After the canning season was over the family remained in San Jose and dad got a job for Hales Department store as a soda jerk.

Wanting to settle down and marry my mother, he got a full time job at a local bakery baking doughnuts and bread at age 17 to 20. The job started daily at 4 am.

Courting mom

He married my mother in 1927 at age 18 and continued working at the bakery.

But, at heart, dad was always a farmer and that is all he wanted to do. So, after my sister was born the dad I would come to know, packed mom and me and little sister up and off we went to Livingston, California where dad rented 25 acres of vineyard.

Money was tight so he always raised animals to eat, beef, pork, etc. Butchering day would bring the relatives together to help out.

Butchering on the Sims Ranch in 1936

Moving from farm to farm and share crop farming didn’t pay off so in 1940 he moved his family, which now included a little brother, back to San Jose and became an apprentice carpenter working for my mother’s father, Ben Schultz, building houses.

World War II came along and dad went to work in the shipyards in the bay area and later for the Permanente firm as a journeyman carpenter, until the end of the war.

I can remember when he smashed his thumb on a job and was laid up for months. The cries of pain and anguish disturbed me very much but he prevailed and went right back to work, stiff thumb and all.

The war ended in 1945 and the lure of the farm called him back to the San Joaquin valley. So, with a saving of $3000 he and a friend purchased 180 acres of fruit, picked up my uncles semi-truck and announced to his family that we were moving back to the farm again.

For the next five years dad would farm in Winton and later Livingston, California. He worked hard, day and night. When the Irrigation district told him the water was available he had to irrigate around the clock until it was done.

I remember offering to help at night so he could get some rest but he wouldn’t allow me because he said school the next day was too important for me to miss.

In the summers he would work me from sun to sun. Mom would complain that the work was too hard for me and he would laugh and say it will make a man out of him. Those experiences taught me the value and importance of work.

Every farm we lived on dad purchased a cow for milk and butter and cottage cheese. Brother Ken on "bossy" with dad

Farming never made much money for dad so at times he would try and make income from other sources. One year he purchased two combines on credit and together we hit the trail up to Oregon to do custom grain harvesting. I learned how to work for other people and helped my dad build the sides on an army surplus truck we used to haul grain.

He taught me how to drive truck before I drove a car. He taught me how to milk a cow, kill a chicken, drive a tractor, prune grapes, prune peach trees, operate a combine, build things and a host of other things. That’s the dad I knew.

Farming didn’t pay, dad hurt his back so he moved to Fresno for a year. I had already left for college. Dad sold roof shingles as an outside salesman for one year for the Insoseal company.

The dad I knew moved back to San Jose, California, in 1951 and became a carpet layer and sold carrot juicers on the side. Then he worked in the S and H Green Stamp Store for awhile as a warehouse manager and stock clerk.

That job ended and he then went back to carpenter work until he retired in 1973.

In retirement he collected used soap from motels for shipment to third world countries.

He also went to Mexico and helped build a church.

The dad I knew was a hard worker, never quit but kept on going. He could improvise and figure things out with his eighth grade education. I was amazed at the things he could do, all self taught. He didn’t have enough money at times and when he needed to he would invent something to solve a problem.


Mom couldn’t stand the valley heat so he invented an air conditioner. He build a frame of “gunny” sacks, hooked up a hose to keep them wet and “presto” as the wind would blow across the wet “gunny” sack covered frame the enclosure mom was sitting in would cool down.

He never had a lot of money but he found enough to give my sister and me music lessons and purchase instruments for us.

He had a goal that we should go to Bible School, if only for a year. Sis and I went. He sent me off with $50.00 in my pocket and said “get a part time job but call me if you need help”.

I wanted a car, had some money saved but he wisely steered me from it, allowing me to use the family car whenever I wanted. I waited until I was on my own in college to get a car.

When I had an accident one time because of carelessness, he asked if I had learned my lesson. Answering “yes” he never said another word about the damage and that was the end of it.

My dad always liked to own big cars. Cadillac's, Oldsmobile's, Buick's, etc. The picture above shows three generations of Buller’s with their “big” cars.
Three generations- Brian, me and my dad



Dad loved his family. He would tell each one he loved them. Every family member knew he cared for them. He and mom arranged family get to-gathers often.
The dad I knew was always there for me, guided me, taught me the work ethic and demonstrated his love for me. Best of all, he and mom took me to church every Sunday and they lived an example for me to follow.

THAT’S THE DAD I KNEW




by Don Buller, April 2008

On-The-Road-Again

Greetings From Yuma, Arizona............

On January 1 we left Fresno with grand daughter, Wendy Buller, and 10 hours later arrived in Yuma, Arizona. We will be wintering here until the end of March.

Wendy had to return home after two weeks with us so the closest direct flight was from San Diego. So, with the Catlins (friends of ours from Indiana) we took her to San Diego and she flew home. We spent the next two days there seeing the sights.

One of the sites we visited was the famous Hotel del Coronado, a grand hotel dating back to 1888. It rests on a peninsula just across the bay from San Diego on a 31 acre seaside resort. It has access to 18 miles of Coronado;s beaches, collectively named the #2 beach in the United States.We have returned to Yuma and are enjoying seeing friends from all over who winter in Yuma. Some live here year around and then they leave in the summer. Did you know that over 70,000 "snowbirds" come to Yuma in the winter.

The small town of about 30,000 people bustles with activities when all us "snowbirds" arrive. We are about eight miles east of the downtown in an area called the "Foothills", near the base of the mountains.

We park on a lot owned by our friends the Catlin's. Property around here has been designed for folk with RV's. Each lot has space for two RV's with all hookups. Where we are located there is a little building that has a game room, bathroom and laundry facilities. It works out real nice.

On February 11 we leave for Israel with a group of friends from our church. We will be there ten days. So, after we return you can beg us to show pictures.

Well, more another time.

Don and Marilyn

Home In Fresno

The Buller's are home in Fresno, catching up on yard work, visiting friends and family and taking care of business.

On our way home from Indiana we stopped in Evansville to visit friends, took in some shows in Branson, visited the Oklahoma State Fair and the Federal Memorial in Oklahoma City, dropped our trailer off in Yuma, AZ and visited with friends there. From there we went to our grandsons Marine boot Camp graduation in San Diego. Now we are relaxing and getting ready to go to Hawaii in December and Yuma in January.

Here is a proud Marine recruit Bryant E. Krause, and the proud grandparents. There were 640 Marines grauated the day we were there. They marched and showed their stuff. It was a great experience for us.

The fall colors are changing in Fresno, the weather is perfect, we are feeling great and looking forward to the next "nudge" for minsitry service.

Proud parents, Tim and Char Krause at the graduation ceremonies in San Diego, California.

Thought for the day.................

"Thank God every morning when you get up that you have something

to do which must be done, whether you like it or not."

Amish Buggies

Family style buggy with four door openings

Local Buggy showing triangle and turn signals

5th wheel "stretch" tourist buggy. Notice 5th wheel between horses legs holding up tongue of buggy

Sporty wagon with 15 inch wheels and tires- Summer version

Tourist carrage leaving Blue Gate Resturant. Can cost upward of $15,000 depending on bells and whistles. We watched them making these at Troyer Carriage Works

Sporty model with bucket seats (modified by youth) with turn signals and rubber 15 inch wheels and tires and springs.

Open-face sport model for summer use

Single or couple "single seater"

Buggy with closed trunk on back sid

SUNDAY BLUE LAWS

The market place is empty. No more traffic in the streets. All the stores are closed and locked up tight. There is no chance to purchase anything. It’s an eerie feeling on a bright and sunny Sunday morning in Northern Indiana. The town is deserted. What has happened, you ask?

Years ago there was a body of laws created in Colonial New England that were designed to enforce moral standards and particularly to prohibit specified forms of entertainment or recreation on Sunday. It was also designed to regulate commercial business on Sunday. These laws were called the Sunday Blue Law because they were written on blue paper. They have long passed from the law books, little by little.

You know it’s Sunday in Shipshewana, Indiana, where the spirit of these laws is still practiced because the county of LaGrange is 60% Amish and Mennonite. Because of this strong religious presence every store and eating place (except one pizza place and one service station) closes all day on Sunday.

Walk down Main Street– it’s highway 5– and you will not see one car parked in front of commercial establishments. In fact, very few cars will be on the highway driving through.

The folks of this 500 person town all respect the sacredness of the Lord’s Day so all businesses are closed. They like it this way.

As you are sitting in the comfort of a park bench under the shade of the sycamore tree, you often see an Amish horse and buggy traveling late in the day returning home from an all day church service held in home of an Amish. In addition to the birds singing, the “clip-clop. clip-clop” of the horses is about all you will hear. It’s quiet. It’s nice. Come with me to the “yesteryear” and enjoy the peaceful and quiet result of the Sunday Blue law.

And, that's the way it is. So long till another time when we once again explore life in a small town where the Amish and the Mennonites live.

Don and Marilyn, writing from our second story apartment overlooking the beautiful grounds of the world famous MENNOHOF Interpretative Center. Summer is here and the crowds are coming. Yesterday we had over 200 people. People come from all over the world: Reedley, CA, Clovis, CA, Canada, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, Russia, England and on and on. In June we had 3,750 people visit MennoHof

BEHIND THE HORSES TAIL

Picture yourself seated in an Amish Family buggy after an invitation from new friends to take a ride. The connection between the horse and the buggy is so close it seems that you are almost able to touch the horse. You are right “behind the horses tail”.

The ride through the lush countryside near the little town of Emma is exhilarating. You are traveling slow enough so that you can greet people along the way. You have time to think and talk and enjoy the manicured farm lands

Bud, the 17 year old part Morgan horse keeps the buggy moving at an even clip. Occasionally, its owner softly utters a word sounding like “jeez” to encourage Bud to keep the trotting tempo at a uniform speed. We could not tell the difference but the driver could. The steady sound of “clip-clock” along the road reminds you that you are still “behind the horses tail.” The driver sits on the right side and there is no window for him, but I sat next to him and there was a glass pane in front of me so I didn’t worry too much about being right “behind the horses tail.”

As you turn a corner you don’t have to worry about slowing down as you are not going fast enough to make a difference. You soon become mesmerized by the world moving so slow by you. You wonder out loud about trading a truck for a horse and buggy and the owner says “not a fair deal– for you.” A new family size buggy could cost as much as $5000 and a young, spirited horse would sell for around $1500 at the weekly auction sale in Shipshi. That’s abbreviation for us “locals’ here in Shipshewana, Indiana.

It’s obvious that living “behind the horses tail” ones life is in the slow lane. There is more time with your family because you are not all going in different directions and you are spending more time together. There are moments when we comment about the advantages of this living style.

We met Bud’s owners, Fritz and Norma Bontrager one June day in 2007. They had met my sis and brother-in-law years before and when they found out we were in the area they contacted us. They invited us to supper and soon we were enjoying our visit out on the covered porch. They showed us their 30,000 chickens and explained how they convinced the Bishop of their District house church to allow them to obtain a diesel engine to generate power to run the cooling fans. Fritz also works in the mobile home business making base cabinets for the kitchens.

Next, we met them in a wide spot in the road, a town called Emma, for a traditional Amish supper in the town restaurant. The restaurant is in a corner of the General Store which was built in 1931. It’s typical rural, small town atmosphere. Norma and Fritz have three daughters and two sons. The sons have their own cars but the three girls still ride “behind the horses tail.”

We had a grand time visiting with them and learning more about their culture. The main meal was new to us– ham loaf. This is a common item that is like a meatloaf but includes three kinds of meat: ham, sausage and hamburger. Very tasty.

Our ride “behind the horses tail” ended a nice visit and as we sped home in our truck, we watched in the rear mirror as our Amish friends “clip-clocked” back to the farm.

THE CATHREDRAL OF LAST RESORT

In 1447 Gutenberg invented the printing press and history would never be the same. Because the Bible could now be printed in the language of the common man early day reformers studied the Bible and discovered what the State Church was teaching was not what the Bible was saying.

The 18th century reformers felt that baptism should follow an expression of faith. The law of the land required all infants to be baptized. The reformers refused to baptize their infants and re-baptized themselves as adults, following their expression of faith in Christ. They became known as the Anabaptists, or “re-baptizers”. The Mennonites, Hutterites, Amish and most other main-line protestant denominations would come out of this movement. (“Protestant” means to “protest”)

The Cathredral Of Last Resort- the Dungeon

The State Church reacted with arrests and punishments. The motivation was not meant for cruelty but the desire for conformity to the state church rules. Authorities believed that without total conformity society would crumble. Torture in the 16th century was not crude or haphazard. It was conducted with scientific precision. When torture and incarceration didn’t help, the State Church resorted to burnings at the stake, drowning in the river, etc. Men and women alike were martyred.

Anabaptist Catcher

The people in the state church worshipped in Cathedrals with beautiful stained glass windows. The reformers were tortured in the Cathedral of Last Resort- the Dungeon. It was equipped with stocks, stretching apparatus, chains and many other objects of punishment and torture. When the purpose to obtain a person to recant didn’t work through incarceration and torture the believers were burned at the stake or drowned in the rivers. Men and women alike met death in this manner.

The Dungeon (Cathedral of Last Resort) was the final stop on the way to martyrdom. But, in the end they believed they would be trading the Cathedral Of Last Resort for a beautiful Cathedral in Heaven. I often wonder if my faith would have been that strong. How say you?

FOLLOW THE EXHAUST

The Amish believe that cars cause families to be away from home and from each other too often. They feel the car also speeds up the tempo of life and make people forget what is important. They also state the power of the auto gives its owner an unnatural sense of self importance. Buggies keep people closer to nature and their community and, therefore, closer to God. They won’t own an auto but will hire drivers to take them if the distance is more than 10 miles. Charges will run around $10.00 per hour and .95 to 1.25 per mile.

In an Amish community you can always “follow the exhaust” and know which way a horse and buggy went. Most roads in the community have wide shoulders for the Amish and their buggies. Along these roads one will see much evidence that a horse pulled a buggy by “following the exhaust” or as others have said “look out for the road apples” or “be careful about the “alfalfa emissions.”

What is unusual to the uninformed is that each business in Amish country has a “hitching post”. At these locations the “exhaust” adds up so the city hires a “road apples” picker-upper.

These “items” are then deposited in a common pile with a sign "free manure”. I think the sign should read: “For Sale- Alfalfa Emissions For Your Garden”. We noticed that the deposit doesn’t last long as people come by and pick it up. Sell it and make some money.

About The Amish.....

Interesting Information About The Amish.....

Mennonites came out of the Reformations and started in 1536, Hutterites started in 1528 to live in communes to this day and Amish brokeoff from the Mennonites in 1693 to live a simple life.

Amish use many forms of technology, but carefully control anything that would tend to connect them to the world.

The use of horse and buggy is to keep the life simple and close to home. A horse range is about 10 miles and can be gone from home for hours without water. In fact, a horse is very reluctant to drink water from a strange pail unless extremely thristy.

Only about 5% of Amish businesses fail compared to about 50% for all others. Others farm and many work in the RV industry. A Amish couple we had dinner with had 30,000 chickens

The typical Amish family has seven children.

Amish speak Pennsylvania Dutch that originated in Southern Germany, and converse in High German in church and their chilren learn English upon starting school.

The Amish go only through the 8th grade.

Amish youth are generally baptized about age 18-21.

Amish don’t have electricity as that would connect them to the outer world. Same with telephones although their Bishops are allowing cell phones if kept out side the house

Amish young people are outgoing and friendly. A romance between young persons may begin when a young man asks to take a young woman home after a youth group singing. There are no arranged marriages.

Some more rowdy Amish youth experiment with “worldly things” like going to the movies, buying a car, wearing English clothes, smoking and drinking. The is called “rumspringa” which means “running around”. They must give it all up when they join the church and about 90% of them join the "house-church"

The Amish pay taxes as everybody else, however are exempt from social security.

Many Amish practices are not based on the Scriptures but are simply a conscious effort to avoid being part of the world’s culture.

The Amish begin to grow a beard, without a mustache, after marriage, however, with some groups the beard comes after baptism.

Each Amish church district meets bi-weekly in their homes and services are rotated between all houses in a district. Each district is comprised of 25-40 families. When it gets larger they divide up. That way every one can fit into a house. Widows do not have to host house meetings as the cost of feeding that many is expensive. Services last all day.

INDIAN FOLLY OR FIDDLER FROLIC

It was on a dark, cold and dreary day in 1811 when it happened. At 4:00 AM on that day a band of Indians snuck up and engaged a US army brigade in a hard fought battle. The Indians surrounded the sleeping soldiers who half expected an attack and slept with one eye open and with clothes on and rifles loaded. The out maneuvered Indians lost that battle at Tippecanoe in Central Indiana just a few miles north of what is now Lafayette, Indiana, home of famous Purdue University. That was the Indians Folly. Twenty-nine years later General Harrison, who was the hero of the foray, would use this battle to catapult himself to the presidency of the United States.

One hundred and ninety-six years later in June of 2007 a group of people gathered under those same 300 year old stately oaks for the 35th annual Fiddlers Gathering. That was the Fiddler Frolic.

Among the many musicians in attendance was a lady who in later life decided to learn how to play the violin. She was there to attend the workshops to learn how to fiddle. She and her husband were also there to enjoy the concerts by professional string instrument players. That would be more Fiddler Frolic.

The lady was Marilyn Buller, who was there to improve her violin skills and a good time was had by all at the 35th annual Fiddlers Gathering!