Wisdom of country folk

My mother-in-law passed away about 8 years ago.  She was a real pack rat; she had a collection of collections.  Anyway, when we were going through her collections we came across a large pack of letters written to and from her.  It was incredibly fascinating on many levels.  People used much different language back in the early part of the 20th century. 

Jane's mom, Dorothea, grew up in the farming area west and north of Madison, in the Wisconsin River area.  It's a really beautiful area; lots of rolling hills and hollows.  Like most farming communities that are miles and miles from "civilization", people in those valleys learned they had to rely on each other.  Whether you liked their personality, whether you agreed with the political leanings of the farmer down the valley or not, you maintained a good relationship with him because you knew there would be a time when you would need his help and he would need yours.  That's how you survived.  That's how the community survived.

One letter stood out.  Jeremiah and Hazel (fictional names) were a yound married couple.  Jeremiah was not a very good guy.  He took out his frustrations on Hazel.  Hazel had enough and left.  One of her neighbors took her in.  Jeremiah was not very happy, but did not know where Hazel had found refuge.  He knew she was "hiding" with one of the neighbors in the valley, and so he spent many hours driving up and down the valley seeking her out.  He stopped at neighbors and banged on their doors, parked in front of barns and yelled for Hazel,  and was a generally menacing presence. 

Around 2am, one of the farmers figured that Jeremiah wasn't getting the message.  Keep in mind that this neck of the woods was populated largely by Scandanvians - those people who are sometimes described as such: "Once there was a Scandanvian farmer who loved his wife so much, he almost told her."  So I can almost see and hear the conversation that transpired between Jeremiah and the farmer and it probably ended like this.

The farmer, leaning on his shotgun which he just happened to have at his side, said "Jeremiah, I don't think you understand.  Hazel doesn't want to talk to you.  Now, I'm not saying I know where she is and I'm not saying I don't know where she is.  What I'm saying is that Hazel doesn't want to talk to you: ever.  And, I think I can speak for everyone in this valley, we don't want to talk to you: ever."  Then, with just a little fidgeting and repositioning of the shotgun designed to send a clear message, he left Jeremiah with these words: "You've got a nice car there I see.  Looks real comfortable and reliable.  Why don't you see just how far you can drive it in 24 hours?" 

That was the last time Jeremiah was seen in the valley.

There was no bloodshed, no histrionics, no threats and counter-threats.  There was no government or law enforcement agency involved.  People relied on each other and the job got done.  People were able to rely on each other because, despite their differences, they treated each as if their lives depended on it.  Because they did.