I was heading across on I-64 towards Kentucky when just outside of Mt Vernon Illinois we ran into a small colony of people. This little community is a collection of people from differnt areas. Either by accident or design, they seem to have one thing in common, they are all Christians (or so they say). There is a leader (there always is): he is one of those charismatic kind of people; he hit me wrong right off. The first words out of 
his mouth when I met him were; Sir, do you know Jesus? I said point blank back to him; Son I knew him before there was a twinkle in your dad’s dinkle. He stood there for a minute (as his followers look at him for a response), and then slap me on the shoulder and said to all around, I think I ‘m goin’na like this guy. You know (my past self); we have met our fare share of Christian’s that are over the top. There is nothing wrong with being zealous for the Lord, but I am always a little cautious when it comes to “in your face believers”, I guess I have seen too many with hidden agendas in my time. I think Hope felt the same way, because she never left my side the whole time we were with them.After my little test with Banker (their leader). I say test because I threw the whole crude comment out there to see if I would get a lecture, anger or a prudish look from him. I thought he handle it well, even if it was some what of a show for those standing near. They ask us to stay the night with them and share a meal that evening (seems they raise their own food on clean land as they call it). I could see no harm in them, so I agreed (or maybe I just wanted to eat something someone else had cooked for a change). I could tell Hope was very skittish and not comfortable at all, so I let her hang on my britches leg (like she was already doing) and did not try to force her to be friendly. One of the women took an interest in Hope and tried on several occasion to draw her out, but Hope would
have no part of it.We ate at one long table outside; there were around twenty to twenty five in all (that I saw anyway) that came to the meal that night. After Banker offered a long preachy prayer, we ate. I listen to Banker go on and on about his little commune and how they all came together after the great fall. According to him it
is share and share alike in this little society, each person does their part. And I found out Banker is a nick name, his real name is Ralph. They call him Banker; because he controls the credits people earn by doing their “so called” part (you can call it credits or money but its all just one step away from greed). I asked; what happens if a person refuses to do there part? Oh, we have ways of dealing with it, he said; but so far there has been no need. I asked; have you had any witch trials yet? But the reference was lost on him. I excused myself and went on talking with him; and the rest of the evening was pleasant. They put us up for the night in one of the
old homes nearby, and furnished us with water to bath in. The woman that took a shine to Hope wanted her to stay at her house, but I insisted she stay with me. I told her; my Granddaughter (I said it like that so they would not question why she was with me) has been very shy since she lost her mother. That seemed to pacify the woman enough that she left Hope along, a little.The next morning we got up and headed on. Banker asked if we would like to join his community; but I declined and told him we are headed back home. We have put about 10 to 15 miles between us and them. The nights are getting cooler and I am worried about getting to Pennsylvania before it gets to cold. To get there I will be heading back up north and breaking one of my rules; staying south in the winter time. There are some Amish in Mississippi, in the county of Pontotoc. But I have not visited them in my journeys; I just remember them from when I used to work in that area. Most of the ones I have seen and visited with have been up north. I guess I better stop my writing for tonight. I told Hope about how I b
ury what I write in a can and told her all about time capsules and stuff. So now she is sitting across from me rolling a can back-n-forth in her hands like she can’t wait to bury what I’m writing. Simple task sometimes thrill a child. I feel bad about my suspicions of the people back there; I guess I’m just made that way. They were friendly enough I guess, maybe a little too friendly………...Go to Day 1027
