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World weary and down to a threadbare faith, police officer Ashley Walters seeks refuge in Montezuma, Georgia, a quiet town with a thriving Mennonite community. Yet even in the peaceful surroundings, she can’t escape the haunting memories of crime-ridden Atlanta.

Then marriage-and-family counselor Patrick James partners with a teenaged Mennonite runaway to offer Ashley a second chance at redemption…and romance. But when violence erupts over revitalization plans that pit the Montezuma and Mennonite communities against each other, Ashley is forced to stop the person responsible—even if he is someone she’s come to love.

As God unlocks the secrets darkening Ashley’s heart, she must answer two crucial questions: Who is in control? And can she trust Him?

(Place of Refuge Series, Book 1)

Watch the book trailer HERE

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A New Normal

Recently, I dined in the home of one of the families whose lives were directly impacted by the incident. Though the tragedy itself was not mentioned, I couldn’t help but notice the sadness that still lingers in the mother’s eyes, the heavy feeling of loss that permeates the entire family. Certainly, they have continued on in the world of the living. Their gleaming floors, healthy animals, and overflowing gardens attest to that. For the most part, family life seems back to business as usual, their youngest child laughing at the dogs’ antics, their teenager flashing a shy smile at his girlfriend.

But despite the years that have passed, the whole family is obviously still learning to adapt to what psychologists call a “new normal,” one where children can be victims of a senseless crime but life goes on anyway. For this family and indeed for all the Amish families touched by the tragedy, forgiveness is something they did in the beginning, yes, but also something they must do over and over, sometimes each new day.

Among the Amish, the tragedy at Nickel Mines has come to be known as “the Happening.” They don’t talk about it much anymore, at least not with outsiders. The schoolhouse has long since been torn down, its replacement built in a different style at a different location. No longer the Nickel Mines School, it has been christened New Hope, a name that resonates with optimism for the future despite the past. Of the five victims who survived the shooting, one lives with impaired vision, they’ve all had numerous surgeries, and one suffered extensive brain damage and is confined to a wheelchair. All five are currently living at home with their families, going on with their lives.

My best impression of how the incident has impacted the Amish community at large came from a conversation with another Amish woman, one who wasn’t directly connected to the victims or their families but grieved nonetheless. She and I weren’t even talking about the shooting but about the Ordnung and infractions of rules and differences between districts. According to her, Nickel Mines put everything into perspective.

“We used to bicker more, have disagreements about this little rule and that little rule and who did what differently in which districts,” she said. “Then something…bigger happened, something terrible,” she continued, her voice faltering for a moment, “and we realized all the arguing was so pointless. There were far more important matters in life.”

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The following is this months problem…If you want to, write your answers on the blog, and it might make for an interesting discussion here.

“Next Problem….

“Is there any advice out there for our situation? My husband loves to drive spirited, half-trained horses. He gets a thrill out of an exciting ride to church.

“Meanwhile, I am simply terrified. I do not look forward to Sunday mornings, and face them with an actual dread. My problem is my fear of these horses. I lay awake nights and feel sick just thinking about it.

“When the horse does act up, I freeze in terror and start being a ‘back-seat driver.’ I have tried many times to keep my mouth shut, but it seems I am powerless to do so. It drives my husband to anger. He thinks I really could get rid of this fear if I’d want to. I have told him honestly how I feel, but it makes no difference.

“So we need help before this subject cracks our marriage foundation. What can we do? Is there any way to settle this difference? How can I change if he won’t? What can he do if I won’t? We are both waiting and we need help.

“P.S. I know every question says, ‘Please hurry.’ But PLEASE HURRY! He’s thinking of getting another horse!”

“Editors note…May we hear some commonsense suggestions to defuse this tense situation? Are there any voices of experience out there? Any tips from wives who have overcome their fear? Any encouragement from husbands who have learned to get along with a nervous and timid wife? Let us hear your views and experiences. Thank you.”

(printed here from the April issue of Family Life)

My note…Don’t take the expression about the marriage foundation cracking, too seriously. She’s doesn’t mean divorce, probably something more on the line of yelling at him.

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When I walked in the evening before the funeral, I had remembered to wear black. At my grandmother Eicher’s viewing, I walked in with my light colored traveling clothe. The whole room literally came to a complete silence until someone whispered, loud enough for me to hear, (es is da Jerry.) It is Jerry. Conversation then resumed, and I was accepted.

This evening I shook hands with the women first, since they sat up front. They again had a hard time figuring out who I was, but since I was in black they were relaxed about it until they got it straight. Many of them were my aunts, from both sides of the family.

The uncles were the surprise of the evening. Usually they are nice enough, but don’t pay me much mind. That evening they gathered around, shook my hand and chatted. Didn’t take long to figure out the reason why. My first novel, (A Time To Live) which featured many of them, had been a hit. Turns out they liked it.

I was pleased of course, as I hadn’t been certain what their reaction would be. The novel is based on my childhood in Canada and Central America, written from memory. Obviously, I made up the conversations and other details. One uncle, Matthew in the novel, said he couldn’t tell what was true and what wasn’t. Which I thought was a compliment, although it irritated him for some reason. He wanted it written either as fiction or non-fiction. I had said it was fiction based on a true story.

Another uncle, Dan Ludwig in the novel, said the others had been calling him Dan Ludwig, and that he wasn’t Dan Ludwig. When I chuckled he said, “Well. Wait a minute. Perhaps you’ll be famous some day. Maybe I’ll be Dan Ludwig then.”

The day of the funeral the roads were full of Amish, walking, driving in, black, black, everywhere. The service was nice, obviously it helps if you can understand it. The bishop, my cousin, told the story of a blind girl who had an operation to restore her sight. On the day when her mother took off the bandages, the little girl, for the first time in her life, saw. Her words to her mother, who had tried to describe the moment, were, “Mom, you just never told me everything!”

The bishop then said he believed Grossmom spoke something similar to Jesus when He first showed her heaven. With tears streaming down his face he pointed with his hand, in that preaching style so uniquely Amish, and said with great passion, “Only through the blood of Jesus.”

Anna Stoll, born Jan. 12,1912, married to Peter Stoll, Dec. 12, 1933, widowed Oct. 7,1971, died Dec. 25, 2007.

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Instead, like most writers, I depend on diligent research—not to mention a good bit of imagination—to write about topics far outside my own realm of experience. Despite a lack of firsthand knowledge, curiosity and a relentless search for answers can result in realistic and compelling storytelling. Write what you know, yes, but also what you want to know and are willing to learn.

Several years ago, I decided that I wanted to know more about the Amish. I live not far from Lancaster County, yet these quiet neighbors of mine were an enigma to me. I wanted an excuse to delve deeper, to learn more about their religion and lifestyle, to find out if they were a cult, as some claimed, or an earnest group of Christians. I also wondered why I always saw so many physically handicapped Amish people, far more than statistics would bear. Finally, after the Amish school shooting tragedy, I wanted to understand how they were able to forgive such an atrocity so fully, so quickly.

Thus, when I pitched a series of standalone gothic mysteries to my publisher, each with its own exotic locale, I included as one of those locales “Amish country.” My editors loved the concept of gothic mysteries in varied locations and sent me to work first on Whispers of the Bayou, which focused on Cajuns and was set in Louisiana, and then on Shadows of Lancaster County, which focused on the Amish and was set in Pennsylvania.

As it turned out, getting an insider’s view of the Amish life was among the most difficult research I have ever done, much harder than learning to build a pipe bomb or poison someone with an indigenous plant. There were plenty of books about the Amish from which I would pull my facts, but what I most wanted was to talk to Amish people, heart to heart, and hear straight from them what their lives were really like.

In the past, I have done some fairly nervy things for the sake of research, such as crawling into a hidden sapphire mine or floating down an alligator-infested bayou. It has all been worth it, as the best research is done by actually getting out into something and seeing it, smelling it, feeling it.

That’s how I work, but in this case there was something about the Amish that kept me at arm’s length. I chatted with many a kapped maiden who seemed friendly and receptive, but as soon my questions moved from idle chatter to book research, they politely found ways to end our conversations and move along.

I couldn’t really blame them; the Amish of Lancaster county often feel like animals in a zoo, observed, photographed, studied ad nauseam. From what I have read, not only do they not like all of this attention, they are completely baffled by it. They don’t get what it is that we Fancy folk find so fascinating about their simple lifestyle. I’m not sure I do either, I just knew that if I was going to write a good and accurate book, not to mention depict a lead character who was genuinely Amish, I needed to get inside an Amish person’s head.

To that end, I began taking tours of Amish farms, going on buggy rides, and seeking out many of the Amish “experiences” that are for sale in Lancaster County—all in the hopes of understanding the Amish experience, of rubbing elbows with real live Amish folks who might be willing to talk. Everywhere I went, though I met many Amish people who were warm and friendly, they were also clearly uncomfortable with my persistence.

When I finally asked a self-acclaimed “Amish expert” and tour guide if he had any idea how I could arrange a sit-down meeting with an Amish person who was willing to answer some questions, he held out an open palm, winked, and told me that anything could be had for a price.
Startled, I changed the subject and soon left.

Driving away, the shock of that moment continued to pound in my ears. Everyone knows that an entire industry has been built up around the Amish, an industry that often borders on exploitation. Paying this man to set up an interview felt wrong somehow, especially given that the money would surely stay with him and not trickle down to whatever Amish person he roped into meeting with me. Here I had been seeking an inroad into the Amish mind, when all along I should have understood that what most Amish people wanted was simply to be left alone!

Confused, I began to question my project. A part of me wanted to scrap the whole thing, but then I thought of those original questions that had first sparked my interest: my confusion over the high number of Amish handicapped, my curiosity at their salvation and their ability to forgive so easily. From my reading, I had already learned some startling facts about Amish DNA, genetic research, and a physical peculiarity that plagued them known as the “Founder Effect”.

I decided to form my plot around those original questions—as an outsider looking in. I’d also make my main character a regular person just like me, one who’d had interactions with the Amish community but had never been Amish herself. Instead of using unethical means to get an insider’s view, I would depend on more standard, second-hand methods of research (such as books and documentaries) and use my outsider status to my advantage.

As it turned out, the changes I made led to a stronger plot, one that respectfully addresses the Amish faith, their genetics, and their forgiveness. Through the eyes of my non-Amish heroine, I feel like I was able to avoid exploiting anyone while still creating a heart-pounding story of cutting-edge genetics, Amish forgiveness, and a young woman grappling with a tragedy in her Lancaster County past.

Considering the struggle I went through with research, I don’t know that I’ll ever write another Amish book. But I’m glad I wrote this one, if for no other reason than I got my questions answered; I learned what I wanted to know.

After that experience, I also created a new, extended version of my adage: Write what you know, and write what you want to know and are willing to learn. But if your pursuit of knowledge leads you to places you don’t want to go, then don’t. Instead, rethink your plot and make changes accordingly. In the end, not only will your story will be better for it, but you’ll likely sleep better, too.

What Shadows Darken the Quiet Valleys of Amish Country?
Anna Bailey thought she left the tragedies of the past behind when she took on a new identity and moved from Pennsylvania to California. But now that her brother has vanished and his wife is crying out for help, Anna knows she has no choice but to come out of hiding, go home, and find him. Back in Lancaster County, Anna follows the high-tech trail her brother left behind, a trail that leads from the simple world of Amish farming to the cutting edge of DNA research and gene therapy.

During the course of her pursuit, Anna soon realizes that she has something others want, something worth killing for. In a world where nothing is as it seems, Anna seeks to protect herself, find her brother, and keep a rein on her heart despite the sudden reappearance of Reed Thornton, the only man she has ever loved.

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A story appeared in the Cleveland Plain Dealer on 3-20-09, written by reporters Michael Sangiancomo and Donna J. Miller. I have included a link to the online archives if you’re interested in reading the entire story.

To quote from the article, “Two Amish women found a guardian angel with a car Wednesday evening after their horse trotted off with a buggy in tow and a baby inside.”

To summarize: A student nurse was flagged down by two Amish women when their horse took off while parked in a driveway. The women had just stopped to visit when the horse decided it was time to leave. The frantic mother flagged down a car and the student nurse quickly caught up with the buggy. As they trailed behind the buggy, busily calling 911, the horse paused at a stop sign, waited for cars to pass, looked both ways and turned right when traffic was clear!

The baby’s mother wanted to jump from the vehicle to grab the horse’s reins, but the nurse wouldn’t let her. She passed the horse & buggy, then quickly slowed down. When the horse decided to go around the stopped car, one Amish woman jumped out and grabbed the reins while the frantic mom rescued her baby. Thanks be to God, the baby (and the horse) are safe! To read the whole story intact, please click on the link below. I learned that horses are a lot smarter than I give them credit for.

Read the full story…

Mary Ellis, author of A Widow’s Hope

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