Josiah for President

by Martha Bolton

  The moderator was popular news anchor Will Wilcox, a former presidential-spokesman-turned-news-reporter. Cameramen were in place to capture every moment and word and broadcast the debate to the millions of people who would surely be watching. Whether the cameramen would honor Josiah’s request of being filmed from the side or in the shadows as they had the other two debates was anyone’s guess.

  When the red light appeared on top of the lead camera, Will began the questioning.

  “I want to welcome our viewers to this, the final debate of the presidential race.”

  The moderator had the candidates introduce themselves, and then he directed the first of his questions to Governor Ledbetter. This was followed by a question to Harley Phillips, and then a follow-up question to each of those candidates. They were well-thought-out questions, and each presidential hopeful handled them impressively.

  Then it was Josiah’s turn.

  “Mr. Stoltzfus, if elected president, what would you do to get this economy growing again, sir?”

  Josiah cleared his throat. “Hard times are never happy times. But they do serve a purpose. They teach us and help us grow in our spirits.

  “The way I see it, there is plenty of blame to go around. As a farmer, I’ve planted a lot of trees in my lifetime — apple trees, pear trees, cherry trees. I’ve yet to plant a money tree. Try as I might, I can’t seem to find the seeds for it. That tells me there isn’t any such thing. So why do we continue to believe that there is?”

  As Josiah continued his answer, he didn’t point fingers, but he did spread the fault around. He listed just about everyone, from the banks to the car companies to the politicians to those in the housing market to Wall Street, and finally, to the general public. Mark had prepped him well. By the time Josiah was finished, there wasn’t a pedestal left standing.

  But Josiah hadn’t done it in a condescending or critical way. It was simply a call for each American to take responsibility for his or her own actions, or lack of foresight, and not look around for a scapegoat. He made it clear that the nation had arrived at its current state of affairs because of the actions or inactions of each person. In small ways and in big ways, everyone had played a part.

  “Instead of blaming one another, we must pull together. We’re going to be okay. We may need to start using our reserve — open up the silos so some folks can eat — but we can and will pull out of this.”

  “The silos?” Will Wilcox inquired.

  Josiah turned and looked at the other two candidates, both of them experienced politicians. “Surely you’ve prepared for uncertain times such as these, haven’t you?”

  An uncomfortable silence followed, and then Governor Ledbetter responded, “Well, yes, uh … no. I mean, yes, I’m sure we have. Haven’t we, Harley?”

  “Of course we have,” Harley stated firmly. “I believe I read that in the budget … somewhere … Sir, what is your point?”

  “You make hay while the sun shines, not in the middle of a thunderstorm,” Josiah said. “I believe I read that in the Farmer’s Almanac.”

  The audience couldn’t help but laugh and applaud.

  Josiah repeated his question, “You did make good use of our times of plenty, didn’t you?”

  Governor Ledbetter hesitated and then looked over at Harley, who looked at Will Wilcox and then back at Josiah. “Can we get back to you on that?”

  “Certainly,” Josiah replied. “But it’s the people who need to know.”

  “This question is for you, Josiah,” Will said, continuing. “What do you think most concerns the average American today?”

  Mark had prepped Josiah for this question, and there was a list of possible answers, but what they’d settled on was an old Amish joke. When he’d first heard the joke, Mark hadn’t been sure about where Josiah was going to take it, but in the end, he chose to trust Josiah’s judgment.

  Josiah smiled at the moderator and, with a twinkle in his eye, said, “Seems an English man was traveling through Amish country one day, when he veered off the road and got his car stuck in a ditch,” Josiah glanced over at Mark, who smiled in return.

  “Well, an Amish farmer happened by in his buggy and told the English man that his horse, Benny, could pull him out. The farmer hitched Benny up to the bumper of the man’s car and yelled, ‘Pull, Nellie, pull!’ But Benny didn’t move.

  “Then the farmer yelled, ‘Come on, Ranger, pull!’ Still, Benny didn’t budge.

  “Then he yelled, ‘Benny, I said, “Pull!”‘ And sure enough, ole Benny started pulling, and wouldn’t you know it, that car came rolling straight up out of the ditch!

  “The English man thanked the Amish man but then asked the farmer why he’d called his horse by the wrong name twice.

  “The farmer smiled and said, ‘Ole Benny’s blind, and if he thought he was the only one pulling, he wouldn’t even try.’ “

  The audience erupted in laughter, and as much as he tried not to, so did the moderator.

  “The way I see it,” Josiah said, “Benny’s like a lot of folks today. They don’t mind helping, but they don’t want to be the only ones pulling the car out of the ditch.”

  “And you believe the people have the power to pull the country out of the ditch, so to speak?” Will asked.

  “A horse is trained by trust,” Josiah said. “The people’s trust in their government has been broken. Rebuild that trust, and they’ll pull.”

  Will Wilcox turned to the other candidates, “Any rebuttal?”

  Harley was chomping at the bit. “Are all of my opponent’s answers going to be about horses?” he said condescendingly.

  “I’m Amish,” Josiah said. “Horses are what I know. But I could change my stories to be about mules if it would make my opponent feel more comfortable.”

  Once again the audience erupted in laughter. After a moment, Will managed to bring the debate back into line.

  “Moving on to my next question,” he said. “How do each of you feel about tax breaks for the wealthy?”

  It was obvious that Harley Phillips couldn’t wait to voice his opinion. “I believe that everyone should pay their fair share, including the wealthy.”

  “Mr. Stoltzfus?” Will asked.

  “I believe everyone should pay their fair share and live within their means … including the government.”

  Governor Ledbetter then jumped into the fray. “With all due respect to my opponent, isn’t it true that the Amish don’t pay taxes, Mr. Stoltzfus?”

  “With all due respect to Governor Ledbetter,” Josiah replied, “that is a misconception. When it comes to the government, our stance is ‘Pay, pray, and obey.’ And we don’t ask much of the government either. We take care of our own.”

  Then came the question Mark knew the political pundits were waiting for.

  “Mr. Stoltzfus, since your religious faith is so much a part of your lifestyle, would you be able to maintain an acceptable separation of church and state?”

  “Sir,” Josiah began, “let me start by saying the Amish are strong believers in the separation of church and state. Religious freedom is what brought us here to America in the first place. We understand the curiosity of others and will answer questions about our faith when asked, but we do not expect the rest of the country to take the vows we have taken.”

  “But haven’t you broken some of those vows by even running?”

  “I am following what I feel in my heart I must do.”

  “So if elected, you would govern from an inclusive viewpoint, realizing you would be the president of all Americans?”

  “Yes, all faiths would be invited to the White House barbecues.” The audience laughed again, clearly delighted with Josiah’s response.

  So far, Mark thought it was a healthy debate. Will didn’t shy away from asking tough questions, and most of those were directed toward Josiah. The questions gave Josiah the opportunity to address many of the concerns Mark knew the people had, concerns they’d shared with Josiah in conversations all acro
ss America.

  HARLEY DIDN’T LIKE THAT JOSIAH SEEMED TO HAVE THE AUDIENCE in the palm of his hand. It was evident they loved his simple, clear answers. When Harley had about as much as he could stand, he interrupted. “How much longer is the country going to tolerate this ridiculous campaign?” he said. “We are becoming the laughingstock of the whole world!”

  “According to the latest polls, Congressman Phillips,” Will Wilcox said, “it appears the global community supports this ‘ridiculous campaign’ three to one.”

  Harley snapped back, “The global community does not elect our presidents, sir!”

  The line didn’t garner the response Harley was hoping for. The audience was clearly in Josiah’s court and didn’t appreciate Harley’s tone with the gentle Amish man. But it had been a long campaign, and Harley knew all he needed to cinch the election was one good sound bite. That’s all, just one quotable quote that all the major news outlets could pick up and run with. He hadn’t said anything all that interesting or noteworthy so far in the debate. No new revelations had been uncovered about his opponents, and he hadn’t been able to convince the American public that Josiah’s campaign wasn’t a serious choice.

  To Harley’s vexation, it was Josiah who got the most supportive applause and bursts of spontaneous laughter during his speeches. And now here he was, standing right next to Harley, center stage — an Amish presidential candidate who was being treated with the respect and validity that Harley felt he himself deserved. Had the whole country gone mad?

  If Harley was going to score a home run, he had to play dirty politics, and he had to play them now.

  “While it pains me to have to take the path of other politicians who have attacked a candidate for his or her faith, I believe that since we are talking about the presidency here, it is of great concern that my opponent is a member of a religion that is considered by some — not me but some — to be archaic, narrow-minded, and cultlike,” Harley said.

  An uncomfortable hush immediately fell over the audience, but Josiah didn’t flinch. The remark had obviously backfired on Harley. Those in the audience now appeared to feel extremely sympathetic toward the Amish man.

  “Is that the best you’ve got, my friend?” Josiah said. “My faith? Are you going to point out the size of my nose and how my chin tilts slightly to one side, as well?”

  “The people have a right to know whether your beliefs will interfere with your presidential duties should you, by some miracle, be elected,” Harley said, desperately trying to defend his comment.

  “Sir, I have answered that question in every debate and every interview I have given since I first tossed my hat into this election. I have already answered it this evening. Yet I will answer it once again — I make no apologies for my faith now, nor will I in the future.”

  If not for the rules, Mark was certain the entire audience would have been on their feet applauding. Even so, about half of the audience, Mark among them, ignored the rules and gave Josiah a standing ovation. It was near the end of the debate, and some things just couldn’t be controlled.

  ACROSS THE COUNTRY, PEOPLE WERE WATCHING THE DEBATE IN their homes, offices, and public meeting places, and most were impressed by what they saw from this unconventional presidential candidate. His appearance automatically made him stand out among the other candidates, but it was his answers — clear, concise, and passionate — that won over the masses.

  In Las Vegas, Nevada, a young married couple who were sitting at their dining-room table going through a stack of overdue credit-card and mortgage bills watched the debate.

  “Maybe he’ll turn things around for us,” the wife said, almost afraid to give herself the luxury of hope.

  In New Orleans, Louisiana, a middle-aged musician watched the debate along with customers in his club.

  “I believe he’ll do what he says. If you can’t trust the Amish, who can you trust?” he said.

  All across America people had tuned in, and they liked what they were seeing.

  “ANOTHER HOME RUN, MY FRIEND!” MARK SAID AS THE LIMO carrying Josiah, Cindy, and Mark maneuvered its way through the cheering crowd following the debate. “Harley couldn’t do a thing but watch you score!”

  “There were some tough questions,” Josiah said, still uncomfortable with how this whole political game was played.

  “Yes, but you knocked ‘em right back. Didn’t miss a single pitch. Handed ole Harley Phillips his ego on a platter, that’s what you did! It was beautiful! Just beautiful!”

  “It is a sinful thing to gloat,” Josiah said, “but there were a couple of times tonight when I think I might’ve sinned.”

  Giving someone their long overdue comeuppance did feel good, Josiah realized, even though he knew it was wrong. But as he’d suspected a long time ago, the campaign was changing him. Perhaps not a lot, but in small ways. Ways not noticeable to anyone but himself, Elizabeth, and of course, God.

  “We’re on the home stretch!” Mark said as he prepared a toast from the beverage center in the limousine. Josiah raised his bottle of water.

  “To the next president of the United States!” Mark cheered.

  “And to his vice president!” Cindy added.

  The three of them clinked their beverages against each other and took a celebratory sip. Then they all sat back to watch the post-debate coverage.

  Most of the political analysts concurred that Josiah had indeed hit a home run at that night’s debate. The majority of those analysts also maintained that Josiah didn’t stand a chance of actually being elected, even though Mark had told Josiah that campaign donations were increasingly pouring in, volunteer campaign workers were joining his campaign by the droves, and he and Harley were running neck and neck in the polls. Even the analysts had to concur that the campaign was doing quite well for “a novelty campaign that could never end in an actual win.”

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, JOSIAH FOUND MARK SITTING IN THE hotel coffee shop.

  “How did you sleep, my friend?” Josiah said.

  “Great!” Mark replied, “But I still had to order a strong cup of coffee to keep me awake while I read through this mountain of Internet messages and blogs.

  “May I?” Josiah asked, pointing to Mark’s phone. It was ten o’clock. Elizabeth and the children would be waiting for his phone call at the neighbors’ house.

  “Of course,” Mark said. “Call her and tell her the good news.”

  Josiah smiled as he took the phone from Mark, then moved to an out-of-the-way table that would offer some privacy.

  “I miss you,” Elizabeth said, when she answered the phone.

  “I wish you were here with me. But I understand with the kids and the farm and all you have to do …”

  “I know. This will all be over soon. So how did it go last night?”

  “Well. They tell me it went well.”

  “Gut. You sound tired.”

  “I am.”

  “Do you still believe we’re doing the right thing?”

  “Jah … I think.”

  “I didn’t realize how much the campaign was going to take from us.”

  “Jah. But I still believe this is what we must do.”

  IN THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED, PEOPLE ACROSS THE COUNTRY continued to add their opinions to the mix. Most news reports and blogs were in favor of Josiah, but some, written anonymously of course, were dead-set against him.

  One blogger, STORMCLOUD44, wrote a string of especially negative and rambling pieces, taking exception to Josiah’s continued candidacy for a number of reasons, none of which were credible complaints. The writing was angry and at times incoherent (as were many posts by this particular writer). Thankfully, the scathing remarks against Josiah were immediately and fervently challenged by a dozen or so of the blog’s forty-six faithful followers. It was unclear why any of them bothered to follow a blogger with whom they so vehemently disagreed, but apparently some folks rather enjoyed the rush from adrenaline-charged spikes in their blood pressure.

&n
bsp; The rebuttals didn’t give STORMCLOUD44 any pause, however. If anything, they simply fortified the blogger’s position and passion, however misplaced or confused. The rambling blog posts continued making outrageous demands, accusations, and manifesto-like statements for the liberation of some faction that no one in the mainstream had ever heard of.

  Just another day in politics.

  BISHOP MILLER HEARD A TIDBIT HERE AND A TIDBIT THERE OF how the election was going. It was mainly through word of mouth from the tourists or through comments made in The Budget, the newspaper of America’s Amish communities.

  The bishop also heard about the Josiah Stoltzfus situation in letters from various members of the Amish leadership who were commenting on what should be done regarding the unprecedented rebellious and very public actions of one of their own. They acknowledged Bishop Miller’s authority over his own community but didn’t approve of Josiah’s run for president, and they felt official action, such as a shunning or other behavior-modifying punishment, was long overdue.

  For Bishop Miller, who had gone on record as disapproving of the campaign, the punishment wasn’t as clear-cut. He knew Josiah’s heart and his intentions. True, Josiah was going against the church’s teaching and rules and would need to be disciplined in some way, but Josiah and Elizabeth were his friends. It would hurt him to cast out this good man and woman.

  Yet Josiah had clearly gone against the church. He was no longer considered a practicing Amish by many in the community, even though he steadfastly maintained his Amish beliefs on his own accord — most of them, anyway, the national-election rule notwithstanding. It was a problem Bishop Miller hadn’t encountered in all his years of leadership. Most folks who adamantly went against an Amish rule in the Ordnung usually departed the community of their own accord to take up a different lifestyle. But Josiah was emphatic that he was still Amish. He loved the Amish faith and his Amish community. He was simply following what he felt in his heart he needed to do, what he felt God was calling him to do. Elizabeth, too, believed in her husband and had vowed to stand by him even though she was still living in their Amish community and considered herself Amish as well.