Do firefighters want to get to the firehouse fast?
Do ducks quack?
The photograph accompanying this column tells the story of a phenomenon that somehow escaped the Scribbler’s attention when he discussed big-wheeled Amish scooters a few years ago. One of two sources, both of whom want to remain anonymous, took the picture.
This scooter, as the placard states, is owned by a volunteer with the Gordonville Fire & EMS Co. He is an Amish EMT who happened to be attending an Intercourse Fire Co. benefit breakfast when the picture was snapped.
If you look closely, you will see accessories that do not appear on the standard Amish scooter made by Groffdale Machine Co. in Leola, the largest big-wheel scooter manufacturer in Lancaster County.
A strobe light is attached below the basket. When turned on, the flashing white light signals approaching traffic to get out of the way because the scooter’s rider is headed toward a fire or other emergency situation.
Now look closely at the hub of the front wheel. That’s a motor attached there. The motor, in turn, is attached to a rechargeable battery pack filling much of the bike’s basket. The battery powers the motor, which drives the scooter at about 25 mph. A battery typically propels a scooter about 12 miles before it must be recharged.
An Amish volunteer firefighter or EMT needs that extra boost to get to the station on time.
“They want to be there quick,” says one of the Scribbler’s informants. “These guys on scooters can’t get there as fast as guys in cars, but they get there pretty fast.”
Many volunteer fire companies in the eastern and southern ends of the county are operated largely by Amish crews. Companies in Gordonville, Bird-in-Hand, Intercourse, Strasburg, Paradise and Gap all have approximately 75 percent Amish volunteers.
So dozens, if not hundreds, of Amish firefighters use motorized scooters.
“Almost all the young guys have them,” says an informant. “The fire companies buy them for their members. These scooters can cost about $1,000.”
Emergency volunteers are not the only Amish using such scooters.
“Frequently, the motors are being used by Amish kids in rumspringa, and they are propelling scooters as fast as 10-speed bicycles,” says one informant. Rumspringa is the “running around time” when some Amish youth sow their wild oats, or soybeans, or whatever, before they join the church.
“Young school teachers sometimes use them,” says the other informant. “As a single woman, it’s expensive to maintain a horse and buggy. So they use scooters.”
Lancaster’s Amish bishops don’t permit bicycles for much the same reason that cars are verboten. Too fast. Too worldly.
But motorized scooters also are relatively fast. What do the bishops think of them?
“The bishops are sort of negative about it,” says one informant. “They’re working hard to get them put away.”
But this informant wonders how a bishop would feel if his barn were burning. Wouldn’t he want firefighters to get to the firehouse faster?
That reminds the Scribbler about his only emergency experience with volunteer firefighters. In the mid-1960s, the Scribbler purchased his first car, a Volkswagen Beetle. When he started the car at home the next morning, the engine burst into flames.
Two young Amish men on horseback were the first firefighters from the Hand-in-Hand Fire Company in Bird-in-Hand to arrive at the scene. They helped put out the fire with a hand-held extinguisher. Then the big truck arrived.
Amish still occasionally ride horses to fires, one informant says, but bridling and saddling an animal takes more time than switching on a motorized scooter.
Jack Brubaker, a retired LNP staff writer, writes “The Scribbler” column. It appears each Wednesday. He welcomes comments and contributions at scribblerlnp@gmail.com.
