Writer’s Note: Last night, I stayed up and read the book Moise gave me about the kidnapping of two of his daughters in 2016. I finished it. Mosie and Barbara believe that people should know what happened to this quiet Amish community and family up by the Canadian border. Beyond saying it was an awful experience, Moise doesn’t talk about it. The book was written by A.T. Burns, a retired Sr. Detective in the St. Lawrence County Sheriff’s Office. He was put in charge of the case when it became apparent the girls had been kidnapped. Moise believes the story should be told, that’s why he gave permission to Burns to write it and sell the book. Today, we discussed how this should be handled as he was out in his fields plowing. I told him the book, which was self-published by Det. Burns is no longer being sold on Amazon, and I know of no bookstore selling it now. Moise asked me if I thought he should sell it, and I said no, definitely not. He agreed. He wanted the story to be told, but his life would be severely disrupted and invaded if people approached him, in person or by mail, to buy copies of the book, especially since the daughters involved were on the farm.
He said I could sell the book if I wished, and I said absolutely not, the story was widely covered at the time all over the country, and people who were interested could get all of the details online if they wished. I didn’t want to be any part of selling the book or discussing it beyond what I would write tonight.
I said I did want to write about it. He said that was fine.
We shook hands on that, and we’re in full agreement.
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The book about the kidnapping is a somewhat gripping narrative about how state, local, and federal authorities sprung into action in 2016 to find Moise and Barbara’s daughters, who were 6 and 12 at the time and had been kidnapped while selling pies, bread, and cookies.
It’s chock full of police procedure and practice but says little about the girls, the family, and their response to the kidnapping.
The police and community response was massive, from roadblocks to TV helicopters to an Amber alert, but the kidnappers themselves ended the kidnapping by deciding to release the girls near a private home after being held for 48 hours.
The girls went and knocked on a stranger’s door, were taken in, and brought to their home.
The sisters were selling baked goods in a shed down the hill from their home when they were kidnapped. The view was blocked by a giant willow tree that drew the kidnapper’s attention. Although the shed was close to the house, no one inside could see it.
It has since been torn down.
Using a puppy as a lure, the couple – a man and a woman – got the girls close enough to force them inside. Once inside the home, the girls were handcuffed, tied to a ring on the floor, and assaulted over the next 24 hours.
In his book, Det. Burns protects the privacy of the girls by revealing few details of their imprisonment and nightmare.
I will go even further than he did by providing no details of their experience with two serial rapists and child abusers, both of whom will be in jail for many years. Nor do I know or want to write about what the girls saw and felt.
Nobody needs to know more, in my view.
These girls appear grounded and healthy, but I am no shrink and am in no position to diagnose them. It’s not my business or place. The Amish changed many of their practices for selling goods in sheds after the kidnapping, but I don’t think I need to list them.
The book relayed two things that are meaningful and revealing about the Amish Way.
Both girls kept their composure through their ordeal. They were calm and courteous, and both of them soaked up so many details about the kidnapper’s home that the police were able to recognize it, inside and out, the minute they saw it.
Their composure and strength so rattled the kidnappers that they gave up their plans to kill them or keep them as sex slaves and released them into the woods after two days.
In one sense, it appeared from the book that the girls were obedient; in another, it appeared they were very strong.
The female kidnapper said the girls’ demeanor frightened the kidnappers; she believed it saved their lives. They also saw the massive dragnet being launched on their TV and began to panic.
The story had gone national quickly.
When the police took the girls home, they questioned them for a long time in the living room and front of their parents, and they were shocked by the girls’ calm and memory for detail and their willingness to speak about what happened.
Moise said the family has recovered and moved forward, and I didn’t question him further. He says what he wants to say and never says what he doesn’t mean or want to say. I respect him for that.
The relationship between the Amish and the police was difficult and strained. The police asked many questions, took many pictures, made a lot of sketches, all things that make the Amish uncomfortable.
The police struggled with the willingness of the Amish bishops to put their practice over police demands.
The outside world had come crashing down on this community in a horrific way.
But they worked it out, as they always seem to do.
Knowing this family as I believe I am learning to do, I see the Amish Way in everything they do. They accept trouble as they accept joy, the work of Jesus Christ and the Lord.
They don’t bemoan it, pity themselves, rage about it, blame the authorities, or go to file lawsuits against anyone. Prince Harry did a hundred times more complaining about the Royal Family than the Miller family did about the kidnap of their daughters.
I believe the reason Moise wants this story told is in keeping with Amish practice. It was awful, it happened, it ended, and there is much work to do in life before God decides who is going to Heaven.
This is Gelassenheit, the moral core of the Amish: yieldedness, resignation, inner surrender, obedience, and overcoming selfishness.
Gelassenheit, which Mosie has expressed to me in many ways, reflects a willingness to reject force and manipulation, to suffer, to surrender self-will, and arrogant self-assertiveness.
It means expressing humility, plain dress, a plain lifestyle, and obedience to the will of God.
The book shook me up. I found it frightening and upsetting. Moise acknowledged the pain he and Barbara felt but goes no farther. He showed no emotion to me. He just nodded and smiled when I told him I finished the book last night.
“So, Johnnie-boy,” he said, “you read it all in one night!” I think that was his way of appreciating that I cared.
No rage, no pity-party, or how-could-this-happen-to-us?. He would never make it as a guest on Oprah.
Moise’s faith did not require him to wonder where God was but to know he was there.
Some people are stunned by death and suffering; the Amish are not surprised by the dark side of life.
The cultural grammar of Gelassenheit blends submission to God’s will. The individual yields to God’s will, even when it strikes so close to home.
As a parent, I wonder how any parent could survive those days unscathed and then listen to what the girls endured. I see that this is possible, at least on the surface.
After we agreed that neither of us would be selling the book or talking about it, Moise and I talked about the blueberry bushes Moise had asked me to research online.
I told him I found a great price for blueberry bushes in Hammonton, New Jersey. I was pleased with myself.
They were 10 dollars apiece (half of what we saw in nurseries around here), four feet tall, and three years old, perfect for next year if planted now.
The only problem was the shipping fee, which was 185 dollars.
The 30 plants would cost $300. I told Moise we really didn’t have time for too much haggling; the plants – the best price I found on the Internet – were selling like crazy.
“Do you think I should take a chance?” he asked.
Well, what the hell do I know about blueberries?, I asked, but this has the smell of a great deal. Except for the shipping cost, I said, I couldn’t get them down on that.
Moise padded me on the shoulder. “You did fine,” he said.
“Yes,” I said, “absolutely, I would take a chance.” He asked if I could buy the bushes tonight, and he would pay me tomorrow. Pay me when the bushes come, I said.
I called the New Jersey farm, and they said they didn’t take credit cards, only checks. More farmers to deal with, more time until the blueberries arrived.
So I went home and wrote them a check and then rushed it to the post office; Moise is on fire to get those bushes into the ground.
As I drove off his farm, I looked back to see if he was all right.
Of course, he was; he was talking to his brother-in-law Sidney his nephew Jacob. Jacob and I are friends, he loves coloring books.
The Miller families are gathering together from everywhere on his farm to help him get the plowing done in time to plant. All the family parts are interchangeable; everybody seems to know how to do everything, even the two-year-olds.
I saw three sets of plows hard at work on the big pasture where Moisewants to plan sweet corn. Several of his daughters were on one of them. The plowing needed to be done.
___
P.S. I imagine this will be the last time Moise and I will ever discuss the kidnapping of his daughters, and the last time I will write about it. I want to say clearly that he will not be selling this book – it’s a paperback that seems to be out of print – and neither will I. He does not want people coming to the farm looking to buy it.
If I were reviewing it, I’d say it works well for lovers of police procedure; if you’re looking to understand the Amish, there isn’t much there.
I wonder if he just wanted me to know the story if we are to be friends.
If you want to look for it, that’s your business, but please respect the family’s dignity by not asking them how to get or buy it from them. For those of you looking for more information, you can find some here; thanks for understanding. The book’s name is “That One Case: The Kidnapping of Amish Innocence. The author is A.T. Burns.
Jon, I remember when this happened. I prayed for those girls to come home. Then I prayed their hearts & minds would heal. It’s good to know that they are doing well. The amount of faith and courage this took for the whole family is inspiring.
Dear Jon,
I was raised in Canton, NY and lived there until my husband and I moved to Ballston Lake several years ago. My parents lived there until their deaths. When we visited them after the Amish community began to grow in the area we always made a trip to buy their amazing baked goods. It was usually young girls who sold the goods. They were always polite and friendly in a quiet way. So when the kidnapping occurred we followed it with concern. We were so relieved that they were set free and home and now knowing that they appear to be doing well is a positive follow up considering what they endured. Their faith is strong and helped the family heal. Thank you for writing about it. I felt closure. It is comforting to know they relocated and are beginning anew. I wish them well and with friends like you I’m sure they will thrive in their new home.
Patricia, thanks for your kind and thoughtful note. I saw the girls this morning, they were planting beans. I can tell you the family is very happy, and busy, of course – planting, baking, preparing to build a new barn and a home. I can’t say what’s happening inside of them, but they seem at peace and very happy in their new home. Thanks for writing. jon
I love this & how you are sharing your growth with the Amish. Please continue to share so we can learn.
Incredible story. Talk about a test of faith. This family is amazing.
Thank you for this sensitive piece…the Amish continue to be a source of inspiration for me, as are you,Maria, and the Farm. Keep on typing!
Moise’s family is fortunate to have found a friend & neighbor like you. I’m sure they know it & probably believe God brought you all together, as I do.
I’m very glad to have met you.
Thanks Steve, I do believe we have been brought together for a reason, I appreciate your message.
That happened up here where I live. I said earlier he is a better person than I am as I don’t believe I have it in me , to forgive people for that, as a mother. It’s just me being me.
I understand Neeny, I don’t really know what his innermost feelings are, he hasn’t told them to me. I know the Amish believe in forgiveness, but I h aven’t asked him that question.
Thank you for writing this sensitive piece. I don’t understanding why people need to constantly give their opinions on the subjects you write about. If they don’t like what you write, move on. I, for one, read your pieces and enjoy them. As a retired teacher , I don’t believe I ever felt the need to critique my students opinions. I just felt it was my job to help them learn how to express them in their writing. Good teacher are not the sage on the stage, they re the guide on the side. Some of your readers would do well to remember that.
We live in a time, Ann, where new technology has empowered people to vent and introduce and judge without consequence. It’s just part of writing in the open in America, I’m very used to it, thanks for your generous message.
I live in the northern NY and remember well the horrific kidnapping of these girls. Like so many, we watched, waited, and prayed for these children to be found safe. Thank you for your sensitive writing about these events. It is a relief to know they have found a new place, new friends, and the peace that seems so central to their faith.
Thanks Betsy, the family is happy here and doing well it seems, although I don’t really ask them that, it’s not my business.
Uh but wait. We do not know if the girls “are doing well”. We do know some one likes to bring attention to himself by publishing a terrifying and
pruruient incident.
People who claim to be hobby journalists tend to ignore their own narcissism and the innocent victim’s true wants.
Sickening exploitation and appropriation.
But wait, Taylor, I am an actual journalist, having worked at CBS News, The Washington Post, the New York Times and the Boston Globe. It’s no hobby, and I have not asked the girls if they are doing well, I wasn’t invited to be a journalist here, and it isn’t my business. It certainly isn’t yours. If you are hungry for more lurid detail, I’d suggest a tabloid or some nasty novel, you won’t find it here. If I were interested in exploitation or appropriation, you can bet I would have sought the girl’s testimony and that of many others. Your message is nasty and boorish (rude too), please don’t post here again. I don’t want you on my site, and I consider it a patriotic duty to ban people like you if you try again. You don’t belong here. You are a carrier of the true American pandemic…If you are sickened, go somewhere else and vomit your bile.
So, if I understand right, one of those girls is now 18 and an adult in her own right. Yet I didn’t see any indication here about her thoughts about the book and the availability of the story. Isn’t this actually her (and her sister’s) story to tell if not? Why are you not seeking her opinion rather than just her father’s?
I guess the best answer is I don’t think it’s your business. I’m not a reporter doing a 60 minutes report, it’s up to her if she wants to speak, not you. I’m not writing to feed your appetite for more, and why would you assume she wants to? I am not in any way obligated to explain my decisions or hers, and I couldn’t be less interested in your thoughts and needs about the book and people’s availability.
As is not surprising, you read a WHOLE LOT into any response that isn’t praise or a compliment. Never said I was interested in the book. Never said it was up to me. I’m interested only in why adult men are so inclined to insert their judgement in place of a grown woman’s judgements and opinions–even when the topic is the woman’s life. In truth, however, I really didn’t expect you to address that. You don’t have a great track record for self reflection.
Sorry, Pen, I am drowning sometimes in self-reflection, which may or may not be a good thing. I self-reflect every day, five or six times a day, as people tell me all the time.
That’s what a personal blog is for. The problem is you have no idea what you are talking about, your pompous and angry message of full of assumptions about what was done and said and what wasn’t, and you have no truth to offer.
I don’t recall seeing you on the farm, or listening in on all our conversations, yet you insist you know what transpired there in intimate detail. Rather than ask in a civil way, or search for the truth, you go straight into righteous and completely uninformed judgment. This is the pathology of social media.
You simply have no idea what you are talking about, and are proud of it.
This is an utter waste of time and spirit, an exercise in nothing but aggression and faux empathy. I hardly know you and am done with you, and from your rant, you ought to be done with me.
I’m not sensing a lot of careful self-reflection in your messages. And no, I do not value people who lie and judge others without even the slightest regard for truth or reality.
I am not obliged to like you or respect you. This story was very painful and difficult for me, and I’m sure for Moise and his family. You are without any kind of genuine empathy, not for the girls or anyone else.
This is the problem with people so willing to lie. It’s almost impossible to respond. But I have vowed never to give into it or run from it. My contribution to free and civil dialogue.
This is my blog and I get to like who I want. Go reflect on that, I’d suggest somewhere else.
I want to reiterate a few things and thanks for the wonderful messages (mostly) I feel this is some of the most important writing I’ve yet done. I should mention that Amish people do not give interviews to any news media. The book was not instigated by them, the detective who worked the case decided to write it and the family, grateful to him for his hard work on behalf of their daughters, permitted him to sell it in their shed.
The book was Moise’s book, he had nothing to do with its publication. Nor has he ever spoken for his daughters.
Amish men and women do not give interviews, nor has he. The only thing he has ever said to me about the kidnapping is that it was horrible. The girls have chosen not to speak up about it, to anyone anywhere, and I have no interest in interviewing them for details about the kidnapping. Anyone who knows anything about the Amish knows they don’t speak out in public, or ever defend themselves.
And they are often under attack.
I believe one of the tenets of feminism is that women have the right to choose for themselves. Giving interviews is not the Amish Way. I do not and have not spoken for them in any way, and I have no idea what they are thinking or feeling about it. I just bring books. It was difficult for me to write about the book at all, but I am glad I did, no regrets. One day, social activists will learn that in order to bring about change, there must be a dialogue with people, most people don’t grow by being attacked.
Now, time to move on. I thank you for your gracious and supportive comments. I feel quite encouraged to keep going and thank you for that.
I thought I wanted a blog when I complete my exhausting but fun job, teaching art in the public school system. I am an unabashed extrovert BY NATURE. I say what I think. Out loud. Maybe the nasty crap on social media and sites etc is something I truly don’t need, or want. Thanks for publishing the stuff that is disturbing. Good to know. I’ll stick to doing pop up books for kids and painting.
I love the blog, I get much more encouragement than criticism, and the blog reflects where the country is good or bad..Somehow I feel I am called to challenge nasty people, it’s strange but that’s the way I feel
Here Here!
Jon,
Thank you for sharing this story of your Amish neighbors. Life is full of horror and tragic events and this truly ranks right up there. My hopes are that this family and their community can continue to not only survive but in fact thrive following the horrors of this kidnapping. I wish for them peace and healing.
Raised as an “English” who doesn’t belong to a closed community I would be seeking counseling for the family, and especially for the girls, as a necessary step for their healing. I trust that within the Amish community there exist similar compassionate individuals who can help provide all that it takes to process and move beyond the unspeakable horrors that all have endured.
Their fresh start in your neighborhood seems to be a testament to this. May it be so.
Thanks, Deb, I really don’t ask about how they are helping the children deal with this. I don’t see it as my business. I know they care about their daughters deeply and are conscious of their needs.