
When I was a kid, we often would travel to Pennsylvania during summer vacation. The reason is that my father’s ancestors had immigrated to Philadelphia in 1721, settling eventually near Reading. Generations lived in the area. And though my father was born in New York City and grew up mostly in Philadelphia, his mother’s sisters still lived in Bethlehem.
One of the things I remember most vividly about those trips was the lush green cornfields that seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance. It was quite a change from suburban Connecticut.
But the most extraordinary sight, hands down, had to be the Amish. We’d see them riding along the side of the road in their black horse-drawn buggies, impervious to the rush of traffic which, or so I imagined, zoomed around them with no small amount of annoyance, if not imperiousness.
How strange they looked, the men with long beards, suspenders, and large straw hats and the women in flowing dresses, mostly black, with white embroidered headdresses and matching white aprons tied around front. It seemed like a different planet.
Continue reading “East of Eden (Part II)”








