Farmhouse Reflections 

The Old Farm before the Dec. 5 fire. Father Jerry Dorn and friends of the Glenmary Farm gather in November, 2000, to bless a new Volunteer House and the Old Farmhouse (above) newly remodeled into a chapel and meeting space.

Messages of sorrow and regret have been arriving in Cincinnati as folks connected with the Farm become aware of the fire. A few of these messages are include here:

I was saddened to hear of the news, on the loss of the old farm house. For me the memories go back over twenty years. As I reflect back I think of all those volunteers, staff, and Lewis county residents that have touched my life. That house brought us all together around the table of the Lord. The house may be gone, the memories and the future are not. God is there, and "we rise again from ashes, to create ourselves anew". Each and everyone of you is in my prayers, if there is anything I can do in the meantime please let me know. With gratitude of memories past, present and future...

Hey Jerry,

Just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking about you after the loss of the Farmhouse, I know how much that old house meant to you and all of the memories generated there that shaped your life and so many other lives that have come and gone through those doors, sat around that fireplace or danced on those floors. Obviously the Farm has always meant a lot to me, It's one of the reason I'm still here.

If I or People's Self-Help Housing can be of any assistance in rebuilding, let me know. I believe there are many possibilities to rebuild and capture the spirit so that once again peace can come...and stay.

I believe it is important to build up out of the ashes; it's part of the cycle of life and death.

Dave Kreher
Director, People's Self-Help Housing

---

• From Paul Joseph, Vanceburg, Ky,

“We Thank You Old House”

By the time we knew,
you were already embraced in a thousand flames.
I think they say, “You would have wanted it that way”
when it was “your time to go,” beneath that heavy white December snow.

So before we happily start a new year, just let me tell you something you might like to hear.

We’d like to thank you old house,
for there was no better a place on this lovely earth than a cold winter morning huddled
round that sturdy black wood stove.

No tellin how many times I crept into you old house in the wee hours of winter mornins,
fillin that wood stove,
so that when you awoke it be just a bit warmer.

Who could ever measure the life and laughter that strolled through your doors,
or the many conversations round the kitchen table?
Even though they are long gone,
they have been ever preserved into the ashes that lay amongst your rubble.

Like a generous lover,
you have shared every inch of yourself with us—
not a spot let undiscovered.
You even allowed streams of running water to pass atop your crooked floors and out the doors.

I remember how quiet and cold you’d get after everyone left, just like someone had taken a little bit of your soul.

So before we move on, lets just take a moment to thank you old house.
For there was no better a place on this lovely earth than sittin on your front porch, singin a hot summer night away.

When we thought you were startin to look too old,
we seemed to love you just a little bit more.
I really think they took some of your soul after we patched all your holes.
You were always a house to me, never a chapel could you be.

We thank the hands that stood your walls so many years before,
for those same hands await you at a heavenly door.

So now we lay you to rest old house
purified by your own fire,
whatta way to go
amongst a heavy white December snow.

—Paul Joseph, Farm Manager 1995-96

P.S. I would enjoy hearing from anybody who came to the Farm while I was there.
PJJ58@hotmail.com

---

• From Tim Mackey, Terrace Park, Ohio

Jerry,

I'm sorry to hear about the Farmhouse. The memories are "burned" into so many of our minds of the Gospel being lived out at the Farm and in the surrounding community. Romans 8:28. And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose. We (I) certainly have more questions than answers. You and the Glenmary community have our prayers. If we can do anything to help, please call on us.

Tim Mackey
Former Farm volunteer

---

• From Cindy Anthony, Clinton Twp., Mich.
to Susan Hellmann, Farm Volunteer Director, Dec. 10, 2002:

Hi Susan,

I had the sweetest dreams of the Farm last night. I dreamt of all the different nights of sleeping I have done at the Farm over the years. I dreamt of sleeping in the old barn and the sound of rain on the old tin roof, and sleeping with a fisherman’s cap over my face to keep the spiders out of my face! I dreamt of the day I went to grab my bunk in the barn and all the bunks were claimed, so I went upstairs in the Farmhouse to the loft.

I remembered how hot it was up there and how low the ceiling was and how I didn't come to Kentucky to sleep in a hot upstairs attic, so I ended up sleeping in the staff house that year. Yet, on a trip to Ohio with Mary Steitz this fall, she told me of sleeping in the loft of the Farm n House and how she loved the cozy closeness of it.

I dreamt of picking up one of our volunteers from the airport this past August and her first words to me were: "Can I really sleep under the stars in Kentucky, because I live in New York City and have to sleep with ear plugs every night. Your letter said I could sleep under the stars; can I really?" And she did every night, and found peace.

I dreamt of sleeping in the new Volunteer House...the far back dorm, the far back corner, the top bunk. I dreamt of sleeping to the sound of worn box fans humming in the night, because the air doesn't flow in the Volunteer House like it did in the old tobacco barn, and I dreamt that I knew the difference.

Next I dreamt of the new Volunteer House and working to build it. I remembered working under the apple trees painting the siding and getting a lesson on how to stir the stain just right so all the paint came up from the bottom of the can so every bit of solid paint was mixed with the oil. I remember the sacrifice of not sleeping at the Farm that summer, of sleeping under the piano at the Christian Community Center, so the Volunteer House could be built. I dreamt of blue paint and bunk beds and how we sorted bolts for beds and rushed to get ready for the first group on Saturday. I remember Andy Kormach coming to paint the upstairs of the volunteer house. I dreamt of Janel.

Next I dreamt of this past summer. I dreamt again of Janel and how her work was good and has lasted. I saw myself standing in the kitchen giving instructions to my new volunteers. "Read the labels on the drawers and cupboards, that is where things are. The items for the coolers are listed in the blue book; the recipes are in the blue book; the daily housekeeping chores are in the blue book. Routine at the Farm has been put into word by Janel and placed in the blue book." I dreamt that I worked with Janel and that as more and more Farm Managers come and go, my memory of Janel will become as folklore.

I dreamt of cleaning the Farmhouse—the windows, screens, lady bugs, ceiling fans, light covers, porch boards, floors, curtains, cupboards, refrigerators. I dreamt of taking everything out, and putting everything back. I dreamt of washing the walls that Andy painted this year, and celebrating the fine paint that was used on those walls, because they washed like a dream, and only I knew to have such a simple celebration. I came home and wrote Andy about his painted walls at the Farm.

I dreamt of the Farm last night. I dreamt of the volunteers to come. I dreamt of the nights I still have left to sleep there. I'm glad of the deep and precious memory. I’m glad of the peace such a night of dreams brings.

One in Christ,

Cindy Anthony, Co-Leader
Women in Service to Appalachia (WSA)

---

To send your comments and reflections 

To return to the Farmhouse Update

For more Farm News