1948 Paul M. Lederach, a young
bishop from Franconia Conference, his education and work at Mennonite
Publishing House; Overholts and Loucks family of Scottdale, Pennsylvania, coal
and coke history and institutions to mid-century, Abraham Jacob Metzler; Andrew’s
invitation to work at Scottdale, its mid-century vitality and image; Miller
domestic life, fourth son David is born, and Andrew’s urge to move; Roy R. Miller
and Berdella Blosser, birth of daughter Gloria Elaine.
In the late forties, Paul M.
Lederach was a young Mennonite leader and student on the move; at age
nineteen, he was ordained a minister the Franconia Mennonite Conference, the
old eastern Mennonite conference north of Philadelphia. Known as a bright young student, from the conference’s
historical Mensch and Lederach families, he kept study and ministerial leadership
together in his youth and for the rest of his life. In a conference still
somewhat skeptical about higher education, the young minister asked his bishops
if he could continue studying, and they approved. By 1945 he had finished his bachelor’s
degree at Goshen College in Indiana, and a year later he earned a Bachelor’s in Theology from the newly created Goshen Biblical
Seminary led by the Anabaptist Vision dean Harold S. Bender (chapter 1944). A year later, Lederach was at the nearby Eastern Baptist Seminary earning a Masters in Religious Education.
And finally there was a doctorate in education which he earned from the Southern
Baptist Theological Seminary in Ft. Worth, Texas, in 1949; the topic of his
dissertation: “History of Religious Education in the Mennonite Church.” And if that schooling trek was not enough, he
was also ordained a bishop, as his neighbor John L. Ruth would say “at the ripe
old age of twenty-four.”
Paul M. Lederach would greatly
influence my life several decades later, and his son James was a neighbor and friend. What
fascinated me coming out of the Amish Mennonite stream, was that the old Mennonites
carried a parallel history of which I knew very little. The Lederachs had
arrived in the Americas already in 1717 and their conference carried the
Mennonite stream of church life for several centuries right next to urban
Philadelphia. Lederach was also the
great-grandson of the legendary Franconia minister Jacob Mensch who while a minister
in his traditional Conference also carried on correspondence with Mennonites
all over rural North America.
But Lederach often mentioned to me
that although much of the Mennonite and Amish heritage is rural, his was not. I
remember when I first met him at his office; he had a large print, a cityscape
of Pittsburgh hanging on the wall. His parents Willis and Mary Lederach had
been commissioned to be workers of a city mission at the Norristown,
Pennsylvania. His father Willis was a banker and his mother Mary oversaw a
growing family and was matron of a city mission. She was also a capable public speaker, more so
says John Ruth, than most of the preachers in the conference. She must have
passed along some of her public speaking qualities to her tall minister
scholar son because he was an eloquent Bible teacher and forceful speaker, even
taking on controversial issues such as upbraiding his local traditional members
for their leisure of smoking and chewing tobacco.
But by 1948, Lederach’s study and
ministerial duties were soon supplemented by also actively working for the Mennonite
Publishing House (MPH) in Scottdale, Pennsylvania. He did some writing for the
Uniform Series Sunday adult school lessons for editor Clayton F. Yake; and
he wrote the first edition of a Mennonite
Youth Fellowship (MYF) manual. A year later, Lederach became employed full-time
in publishing where he would continue in employment for three decades, generally
giving leadership to curriculum and Christian education materials for the
denomination. In the late forties, the Mennonite Publishing House in western
Pennsylvania was at its height of influence among the Mennonites, hence a
good institution to which an aspiring young leader might attach himself.
The printed page was still the
main form of popular communication at mid-century, and Mennonites had a new
generation at leadership which was ready to do publishing. Literature professor
Paul Erb had replaced the elderly Daniel Kauffman as editor of the popular weekly Gospel Herald. An entrepreneurial local
son fresh out of Civilian Public Service, Ralph Hernley came back to his
hometown and was heading up the production and printing presses. The Hernleys
had lived in Scottdale since 1908, and by mid-century most of the Hernleys were
working at Mennonite Publishing House; it was a veritable family as well as
church business. One of the lead editors was Clayton F. Yake who created the popular
magazine Youth’s Christian Companion
and an influential Herald Sumer Bible School Series. One measure of Yake’s
self understanding was that he called his office “the East Room.”
In 1948, the publishing house had
built a new brick addition to its tile walled-plant along Walnut Avenue which
housed printing presses in the basement, provided space for a bookstore,
shipping and warehousing on the ground floor, and the top floor provided space
for a warren of twenty-six editorial and business offices. Over one hundred people
worked at the institution, and leading it all was a charismatic executive minister
called Abraham Jacob Metzler. At that
point it was popular to call people by their initials and Yake would have been
C.F. and Metzler, A.J.
The energetic Abraham J. Metzler
was at his prime as general manager which he served from 1935 to 1961, and the
business was expanding, including other languages such as Spanish (the Herald
Summer Bible School Series) and the historic German used for the Amish and
conservative Amish Mennonite groups and now by the immigrant Mennonites who
were driven out of the Russian empire. My father Andrew wrote
articles for Herald der Wahrheit, a German and English twice-monthly journal
and read the Mennonite Publishing House’s weekly Gospel Herald. He even wrote an article “A
Christian’s Weapons of Warfare” which appeared in June of 1947. But mostly he
was writing for the German English language Herald der Wahrheit, also printed
at Scottdale.
Dear reader, surely you are wondering
why all this commentary on Mennonite Publishing House in Scottdale, Pennsylvania,
during my early years in Holmes County, Ohio? First, I would spend most of my professional adult life here, but there's a more immediate reason. In the mid-80s, my father Andrew
got up in our Scottdale Kingview church one Sunday and said he had been invited
to come to Scottdale in 1948, and since he could not come he was glad that his
son could come a generation later in his place. I had never heard this direct connection so explicitly before, and I thought my father may have drunk too much
coffee that morning. At best I knew that A. J. Metzler was expansive, traveled
widely during this period and often made a comment that people should come to
Scottdale and work at the publishing house. I thought he may have made such a
random comment to my father. The occasion was that we had returned from
Venezuela, and my extended family was present for a ministerial licensing
service for work at Laurelville Mennonite Church Center. Unusual as it sounded
to me at the time, I made a journal note and then got busy at Laurelville and never
asked much about it.
But it was more than a passing
comment. In the Spring of 2010 when I looked at Andrew’s correspondence from
the late 40s, I discovered that Andrew had indeed been invited to come to Scottdale already June 22
of 1947 in a letter from Joseph G. Gingerich, president of the Amish Mennonite
Publication Board in Kalona, Iowa. This board published the Herald der Wahrheit
which was printed at Scottdale’s Mennonite Publishing House. Apparently Andrew
had sent an inquiry earlier regarding Scottdale employment and
regarding the church situation. Gingerich responds that in consultation with
the manager “Brother Metzler” at Mennonite Publishing House, the work would be full-time
year round to serve in German typesetting, proofreading and editorial, “such
work as you could do around there.” Regarding church life, he admits that
although only a Mennonite church exists at Scottdale, “Somerset is 35 or 40
miles away and has Mennonite, Conservative, Old Order Amish and what we call
the Beachy church.”
On the back side of this same page
of the letter, Gingerich continues to write personally in German of some relatives
and people he has known in the Holmes County area, and of his desire to see
Andrew and speak to him personally. My mother also remembers the invitation and
of an Amish publishing delegation coming to the Hummel farmstead to visit with Andrew and her about
this position. But mostly Mattie remembers that when my Father's side of
the family got wind of this possibility, they were firmly against such a move.
I suppose more pointedly, the Millers were hysterically against it, my mother
claiming that there was weeping and wailing for a week at even the thought all
this. They knew that this move would be the end of Andrew and Mattie’s family
as members of the Amish if they moved to Scottdale.
By mid-century Scottdale was the
most common publication address of the Mennonites, and even the Mennonite
Community Association which was begun in 1948 used Scottdale as its office with
Ralph and Elizabeth Hernley among its main leaders. The Hernleys even bought some
land west of the borough, selling off lots and hoping to have it settled with
Mennonites in a kind of back-to-the-land communitarianism. Hernleys were
influenced by rural American sociologists and by some post-World War II
Mennonite leaders, notably the Goshen College ethics and history professor Guy
F. Hershberger, author of other influential work in 1944: War Peace and
Nonresistance. The Mennonites and the Amish retained a rural heritage longer than the
rest of North America, and some of their students had studied rural sociology
at universities, hence there seemed to be somewhat of a fit for renewing this
effort. A generation later, some Mennonites would repudiate this rural
community effort with equal vigor but that is a later story.
In spite of the Scottdale address
for Mennonite publications and institutions, it would not have been a natural
place to think of the Mennonites living and working, notwithstanding the
Mennonites living in the area since the 1790s. Scottdale was located in an
industrial and mining region in the middle of the rich Connellsville coke vein.
For over 50 years this region provided the coal and coke energy which stoked the
Pittsburgh blast furnaces to produce the iron and steel for America and the
world. America was becoming a post- agriculture manufacturing and industrial
society, and the Pittsburgh region was the key player in this industrial and
financial growth. The steel industry had begun with leaders such as Henry Clay
Frick and Andrew Carnegie in the late nineteenth century and was still going in
the mid-twentieth with the giant United States Steel Corporation leading the
way.
By the 1920s Scottdale had a good
number of industrial and banking magnates (attested by the stately houses still
standing), and the surrounding workers’ coal patch houses (mainly the photos still remaining). Although Scottdale had suffered severely during the1930s economic
depression, it was recovering with the resurgence of need for steel during the World
War II years and by the late 40s was again a vibrant small town with good employment,
neighborhood clubs, a theater, a roller rink, and a high school hang-out called
“Ye Olde Nut Shoppe.” It was a mix of the traditional Scotch-Irish and Germans
and the gritty still bilingual Italian, Polish, Hungarian, and other eastern European
neighborhoods. There was also a small African American community at Kiefertown
along Jacobs Creek. Whatever the vigor and diversity, the area also had a
certain coal and coke town shadow of soot and attendant health issues.
This industry was not all foreign
to the early Mennonites who had arrived from Lancaster County and Bucks County
with the westward expansion shortly after the nation became independent. In the
nineteenth century Abraham and Maria Overholt had built up a large farming, milling,
distillery, coal mining and coke business, a veritable industrial community which
is still standing near Scottdale, now called West Overton Village. The
Overholt’s grandson Henry Clay Frick would go on to coal and coke leadership eventually
joining with Andrew Carnegie to form what became the United States Steel
Corporation. Fame came for his contribution to industry, finance and art
collections mixed with infamy for labor relations and presiding over one of the
most tragic labor disputes in United States history, the Homestead Strike of 1892.
Even the town of Scottdale was laid out by the Mennonite families, the two
brothers Jacob and Peter Loucks who a generation earlier came from the
Franconia region where Paul Lederach had grown up.
But if the first generation or
two of the Overholts and Stauffers and Loucks remained Mennonites, their
children and grand children left en masse, and by the end of the century
membership had dwindled to fewer than twenty elderly members. However, among
the end-of-the century remnant were an earnest elderly widow Nancy Stauffer
Loucks (1808-1900) and her son Jacob Loucks and grandson Aaron all of whom were
especially staunch Mennonites and carried a vision of renewed church life. Young
Aaron seemed to have a head for both business and ministerial leadership (often
combined in that era). So Nancy and Jacob provided the family finances to build
a new church building in town in 1893, and a few years later to build a
printing and publishing firm across the street on 616 Walnut Avenue.
So why a twentieth century Mennonite
publishing headquarters in Scottdale? One might respond that a wealthy and devout
Stauffer and Loucks family once lived there and provided leadership. And as mid-century publisher Abraham Jacob Metzler
would proclaim, it was at the center of the old Mennonite world, it was within
a one-day car-driving distance (400 miles) and good rail connections to the big
Mennonite communities of Lancaster, Pennsylvania; Harrisonburg, Virginia;
Kitchener, Ontario; and Goshen, Indiana.
Although my father Andrew never physically
visited Metzler’s Mennonite Publishing House at Scottdale until several decades later, he often spoke of it.
Before I arrived in 1970, the name was an early image for Andrew’s desire for publishing,
writing and public life. Scottdale provided a counterpoint to the domestic
tranquility at the Hummel farm hidden among the Holmes County hills. Andrew was
restless, even as so much of his life seemed to be going well with a growing
family and success at farming.
In March Mattie delivered a fourth
healthy son to join Paul, Roy and me; they named him David. As with the other
children he was delivered at home, but their Millersburg family doctor Luther
High told Mattie this birth was the last one he would deliver at home. She would now
be expected to go to the Pomerene Hospital in Millersburg. Mattie had plenty of
help nearby as her father Levi Schlabach’s family lived within a mile, and her in-laws
the Martin and Martha Millers were only a few miles over the hill by what we
used to call the schloop weg, a hidden one-path trail. Paul the first-born was
in his first year at Sharps school, the one-room school within a half-mile and
with the bilingual teacher Loyal Brown. Paul’s aunts and uncles were at the
same school--Mary, Katie, Abe and Melvin.
If Mattie was contented with her
growing family, farming and living near extended family, she was sensitive to
her husband Andrew’s increasing unhappiness in living in a lane behind the knob
of the Berlin Township farm. The farm lane went off of a little township road
and then you went up over that little knob and down below, you could see the
three buildings, the barn, a glazed block hog or chicken house, and the house
still farther down into the wide gulch, heading towards the woods. For our dog mixed-terrier
Bounce this was ideal territory for hunting raccoon, groundhogs and squirrels,
and, of course, to the four little boys this all seemed natural.
But for a young father who grew
up in a large family sitting almost on top of the well-traveled Berlin-Charm road
and who worked away with English-speaking folks most of his life, the Hummel
place was too much isolation. You got up in the morning and saw only wooded
hills, several fields and tree lined valley heading down into more backwoods. This
might be okay for a hermit or a Henry David Thoreau, but not for a restless and
now lonely young man who would rather live in Concord, near a library or maybe a
bookstore.
Finally, there was the nearness of the aggressive father-in-law Levi Schlabach (L.L.). When Andrew’s male dog wandered off the Hummel farm one time, he returned home without his cajones. The prime suspect for rendering Bounce a eunuch was L.L., and I still remember as a boy when my father would tell me this story. He admitted that he was never sure who neutered his dog; but it was clear to me that the story had symbolic meaning to my father. In any case, Andrew and Mattie began to think about a move. That winter they started looking for another home—maybe not as far away as Scottdale, Pennsylvania, but at least at the other end of the county.
Finally, there was the nearness of the aggressive father-in-law Levi Schlabach (L.L.). When Andrew’s male dog wandered off the Hummel farm one time, he returned home without his cajones. The prime suspect for rendering Bounce a eunuch was L.L., and I still remember as a boy when my father would tell me this story. He admitted that he was never sure who neutered his dog; but it was clear to me that the story had symbolic meaning to my father. In any case, Andrew and Mattie began to think about a move. That winter they started looking for another home—maybe not as far away as Scottdale, Pennsylvania, but at least at the other end of the county.
A Berlin teacher and school
executive Roy R. Miller (1906-1985) who had been away in Civilian Public
Service (CPS) during the War was
contented to settle back into life in Holmes County, bringing along and his new
wife Berdella Blosser (1920-2003). Roy R. and Berdella had met in CPS during the
war while Berdella was working in the offices of the Mennonite Central
Committee in Akron, Pennsylvania. Roy R. was an educational leader at the
Sideling Hill Camp also in Pennsylvania. Miller had been executive head of
Berlin High School and East Holmes Schools from 1939-42, and in 1947 picked up
his duties again. Roy R. resumed his established professional role, had lots of
family relationships, and was conversant in the bilingual English and
Pennsylvania Dutch culture. On the other hand, Berdella had grown up in
Columbiana County, Ohio, and found life in the Holmes County community a
considerable adjustment what with its newness for her and without close friends
nor family nearby. But she and Roy would soon start a family, and on April 30,
1948, Berdella gave birth to a daughter; they named her Gloria Elaine.
Most of this chapter comes from family
conversations, especially my mother Mattie. Some of Paul M. Lederach’s story
comes from a telephone conversation with him on March 1, 2010, as well as John L. Ruth’s
Maintaining the Right Fellowship (Scottdale:
Herald Press, 1984); the Scottdale Mennonite
history is told in Edward Yoder, The
Mennonites of Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania (Scottdale: Scottdale
Mennonite Church, 1942) and on publishing, John A. Hostetler’s, God Uses Ink (Scottdale: Herald Press,
1958). I told my own version of this story in “The Growth and Decline of the
Mennonites near Scottdale, Pennsylvania: 1790-1890,” Pennsylvania Mennonite Heritage (October, 1990, pages 2-15). Joseph
G. Gingerich’s letter of June 22, 1947, inviting Andrew to work at Scottdale is
in the Andrew A. Miller collection in the Archives of the Mennonite Church,
Goshen, Indiana. In this same file is a copy of the article A[ndrew]. A.
Miller, “The Christian’s Weapons of Warfare,” Gospel Herald, Supplement (June, 1947, page 269).
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