When my younger brother, Rick, attended Harvard back in the late 70's, my parents always looked forward to visiting Lancaster, Pennsylvania, on the way back home to Texas after getting him settled for the fall term.
Tales of horse and buggies, folks shunning the use of electricity and modern conveniences.
Men in straw hats with long beards, women in long skirts with white, simple bonnets....
Glenn and Millie talked and talked about the beautiful farms and rolling hills, the barns, the silos, the laundry hanging on the clotheslines to dry.
Shoofly pie, Pennsylvania Dutch designs, apple cider and apple butter...a simpler way of life, a simpler time.
So, when we made our way down the very same winding roads, passing mile after mile of immaculate farms...with corn as high as an elephant's eye,
buggies and wagons with tow-headed kids, the hypnotic sound of the clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop of horses' hooves echoing on the blacktop,
children sailing along on scooter bikes, I couldn't help but reflect on my mom and dad driving along these very same roads, eyes full of wonder and respect for these people who were living a lifestyle not so unlike theirs as children growing up on farms in East Texas back in the teens and 20's of the 20th century.
I finally understand their admiration and love for this uniquely fascinating region of our country...
....where even Santa Claus finds time from his busy toy-making schedule to take a jog down the road!
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