Finding Utopia

Yesterday’s schedule was intense, but the plans that I had made for today turned out to be nearly impossible to accomplish…so, we readjusted, skipped the first “utopia” which would have been completely out of the way northwest of Cincinnati, and chose to hop down through lower Ohio. First stop was absolutely the middle of nowhere and showed no signs of former idealistic aspirations. Perhaps we didn’t try hard enough to see them in Oakland, OH, but we did drive around a little only to find cornfields and an abandoned general store.

"Utopia" #6...Wow

Just off the interstate, however, we caught sight of a little store that claimed to sell Amish goods and freshly made deli sandwiches. It was raining; we were hungry; it seemed like a good idea.

I was not prepared for the greeting we received upon entering. With a deep front porch and windows mostly obscured by the piles of on-site packaged nuts and berries, the store was dark and resonated with the sound of a small Lionel train and miniature environment that occupied most of the central space and housed more packaged goods in its underbelly. After my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed something moving above my head on what seemed to be a mezzanine overlooking the space. When I looked, who did I see but the President himself, greeting Mom and me and addressing our presence with an incessantly waving hand. But, that wasn’t the strangest thing that we saw in Oakland. In fact, we actually witnessed a deer sing “On the Road Again” from his mounted little head on the wall. Without question, this far surpassed that creepy little fish.

Lunch was yummy, though, and we thoroughly enjoyed our chicken salad sandwich and pulled pork bbq which was harmoniously accompanied by “Boot-Scootin’ Boogie” intermittently interrupted by the whistle of the Lionel, which was piped through the speakers in the dining area as well. One might say that it was just a bit surreal.

The next “utopia,” we knew, might be a little difficult to actually find since we thought that all that marked Union Village was a historical marker. We figured that we would stop in the little town that was near and just ask around if anyone knew where the Shakers lived in the area. We didn’t know that we would be so fortunate to acquire a tour guide almost immediately in Lebanon, OH, but almost as soon as we spotted the local historical museum a local spotted us with our cameras and offered up his own advice on Lebanon’s attractions.

Our most helpful tour guide leaving us to explore

First, he suggested that we visit the ice cream shop down the street, an antique store that was just around the corner, and, most certainly, the oldest operating hotel in the state of Ohio, which was conveniently located just across the street. The Golden Lamb, visited by at least twelve presidents throughout its long history, did not disappoint, especially Mom, since its upper stories were reportedly haunted by a little girl named Sara who apparently sets all framed pictures on the wall just a little crooked.

The Golden Lamb and the room that Sara haunts

As we guided our selves through the little tour, we actually came across evidence of Sara. Oooooooo…..Mom got goosebumps.

We then crossed the street to ask someone we thought would be knowledgeable about the former Shaker village in the vicinity. Lucky strike, it was only up the road a little ways and had been converted into a retirement home. Interestingly, three of the original Shaker buildings survived, but when we stopped to take a photo of the historical marker, we were shaken a little by the intact, stiff, dead birds around a tree that was originally planted by the Shakers. We left.

The retirement village that now occupies the former Shaker buildings...also take a closer look below the tree

On our way out of town, we realized that the schedule was even tighter than we thought, and if we wanted to make it to Shakertown, KY, before the end of the day, we would seriously have to drive faster than 100 mph. So, we regrouped and decided to visit both Kentucky Shaker villages tomorrow and at last, eat a real meal and perhaps even rest some. But, first, we had to hit Utopia. Along the way, and with little expectations, we came across signs (yes, actually signs!) directing us to Moscow, OH. Too curious to pass up, we stopped in to have a quick drive around. It was a quick drive around, and we saw a couple of brick buildings that appeared to be old, but the highlight of the town was, without doubt, the nuclear plant that was piping steam just next door.

According to the Ohio map, Utopia actually exists along the Ohio River on a pleasant little highway that follows the water’s edge. It was so much fun to drive, in fact, that I got a little carried away taking the curves fast enough to make Mom nervous. As I passed a car, I also passed Utopia. It exists alright but only within a stretch of about 50 feet. I turned around, crossed the highway with little fear that a car would actually hit me, took a picture with the marker, and called it a day for utopias.

I promised Mom Utopia, and I didn't disappoint

Our day did not end there, however. Other than the brief detour that we took around Lexington trying to locate a mysterious by-pass (it appeared Kentucky entered the no-signage pact with Ohio), much more strangeness awaited us at the little restaurant in downtown Lexington, where, as Mom and I were recounting our day, a nice stranger sat at the bar beside us while we waited for our table. Conversation appeared to be normal (besides the difficulty understanding his trailing, slurred sentences), until we declined his offer for our dinner and his company. Apparently, Mom and I insulted him by honestly not wanting to have dinner with a completely random person. C’est la vie. Regardless, we had the best dinner, actually the only dinner, of our trip. I would say that the sweet potatoes and mint juleps made it, most definitely. Our faith in strangers was thankfully revived as we left the parking garage where the woman taking the money held the most enjoyable conversation about the filthiness of handling cash and catching colds…Now that was genuine.

What did that sign say?...There was a sign?

Today has been almost completely consumed with signs. Not only are we are convinced that Pennsylvania and Ohio have a strange, unexplainable aversion to posting street/road signs, but the signs that were posted certainly questioned the sign's function of providing helpful information. This is not to say that "MAGGOTS $1.00" just outside Zoar, OH, wasn't useful information, but when we came across "Eutopia" after searching for State Route 65 within the 15' stretch between the two arrows pointing at each other in Monaca, OH, we knew that we should remain a little skeptical.

Thanks to Elmore and Dre at a car repair shop, we finally located the highway just 100' from where we were standing. Only, we had to drive two miles down the road in the opposite direction to find the turn around that took us back in the direction we were actually after.

The day began much more successfully, however, when we arrived at our first destination: Harmony, PA. Founded in 1804, this little place just south of a small river was the first established community of German immigrant, George Rapp, who had become disappointed in the political engagement of the Lutheran church in Germany but more importantly, believed that the Judgment was to occur in his lifetime. He and a group of followers, the celibate Harmony Society, established Harmony as their first place of preparation for the inevitable and lived as a cashless, communal society. It was the most quaint little place that still emits an unavoidable air of community. Our first encounter in the town was a group of about six children and one adult marching from the church on Spring Street holding a colorful collection of construction paper cutouts held together by remnants of crochet/knitting thread. We found out that they represented the entirety of the local Vacation Bible School. Unfortunately, we arrived to Harmony about an hour and a half too early for the local historical museum, but thanks to the genuine pride that the present-day citizens have in their little "utopia," we were able to piece together much of the history through the proliferation of signs posted on the original buildings of the Harmonists. (They must not participate in the no-sign policy of the rest of Ohio.)

Our second encounter was a bit more voyeuristic, but we witnessed community in Harmony again when a local drove by a woman watering flowers on the street, stopped the car in the street, chatted and even asked jokingly to come water his flowers in his yard. It was such a pleasant moment to observe in the quiet late morning, and it seemed that they didn't even really notice Mom and me obsessively taking pictures of this almost sickeningly cute place. Two Harmon-ites (to distinguish them from the original inhabitants) just down the hill did notice us, though, and by the time we reached their little store that framed a gateway for the town (along with Otto and Gert's 5-and-10), they were sitting on the porch of what appeared to be the former General Store but had been converted to an antique shop that boasted "Air Conditioned Comfort 74 degrees!" waiting to give us directions to some other "real interesting buildings" in the area. Although we wanted to see the Minninite barn just down the road, we had an agenda to follow and Utopia #2 awaited our visit.

Not much remained of the New Philadelphia Society's Monaca. Their aspirations for an alternative to the Harmony Society's third community just across the Ohio River did not entirely come to fruition; they only succeeded in lowering the already diminishing Harmonists' community (celibacy - final judgment + time = shrinking population). More interesting to modern visitors to this area was this preserved community of Old Economy. Mom and I arrived there just in time for a nice rain shower which made the tour of the interiors of the very functional, simple structures so much more interesting. Much like the Shaker's, the Harmonists made quite a bit of their furniture, but they also purchased several pieces from outside the community (especially for the leader's home where visitors to the community would be entertained). The Harmonists were certainly economically savvy as well as industrious, developing a highly successful textile industry, and, as their basement coffers demonstrated in the late 19th century, their decision to refrain from individualized wealth allowed for a communal wealth that was extraordinary. One of the most interesting aspects of this community that impressed me was their inclusion of a Natural History Museum within their community that displayed the advances of modern science as well as taxidermied animals from all over the world (including a kangaroo!) We also visited Rapp's house (the leader's dwelling), a typical dwelling, the communal kitchen, the feasting hall (an enormous vaulted span), the blacksmith's shed, and the wine-cellar (crazy cool space with mostly original wooden barrels and a really intriguing pully/rail system for hauling the barrels out of the cellar). Too bad to say that the battery in my camera died and I used Mom's camera but we can't upload any photos yet.

By the time we finished with the tour, we were starving...so we wandered around Ambridge and came across a sweet little cafe that had just been renovated. The sandwiches were fresh and yummy, but the two folks working there were out of this world nice and helpful. I only asked for a quick point in the direction of our next destination, and they both dove onto google and starting looking for better routes to Zoar, OH (of course, a place neither had heard of before). Luckily they spent awhile (including a phonecall to a mom for suggestions on routes) because a really nasty storm swept through and blew over several trees/limbs in town.

We made it out of town safely and ended up in Zoar, OH just in time for a lovely post-rain sunset that made all of the buildings glimmer and reflect warm tones that made it all the more quaint. Again, we missed the museum hours, but to our surprise, Zoar had also posted several signs and had a fantastic little hand-out with a brief history of the Separatists of Zoar (biggest interest being the separation of church and state) including their participation in building the levee that protects the town today. Oddly, this place uncannily reminded me of a little town on the White River in southern Arkansas, Clarendon, that I stayed in for a summer planning study -- the overhanging vegetation, some of the homes/gardens, and especially the levee.

The end of the day couldn't have been better than the beautiful views and light that we had on a little country road that ran along a ridge. Because we had to travel east for awhile, we had the sun at our back as we drove through several nineteenth century towns full of large, Victorian homes. No stopping for dinner...we just made it to a hotel and crashed. Utopia is exhausting.

Totally Pampered

So, we landed appointments for a massage! Afterwards, I took Mom for a taste of what I consider to be State College's biggest treasure -- ice cream at Meyer's Dairy. With Butter Pecan and Black Raspberry in our bellies, we had to take it easy for the afternoon though.

yummy...ice cream

Later in the evening, we took off to watch the local minor league team, the Spikes, play against the Williamsport Cutters. It's a tough call to say what was the most entertaining moment -- when the obnoxious guy behind us complained about my friend, Garrison, leaning forward to chat during the down times of the game, the potential for a ball to the head behind home plate, the fireworks, or the rumble between the mascots.

Sadly, although Spike kicked the lumberjack's pants, the Spikes lost to the Cutters 1-0.