Kerry Temple '74
It seemed like a fine idea at the time. Maybe even fun.
Father Hesburgh would drive the Amish buggy. I would follow along in my car and pick up Father Ted and our dear friend David Luthy ’65 at the end of their joyride. David figured that the man who had piloted a submarine and flown in the world’s fastest airplane should check an Amish buggy off his “bucket list” of cool rides. David is Amish.
Father Hesburgh and David have known each other since David was Catholic and joining the priesthood with the Congregation of Holy Cross. Even though David joined the Amish instead and has lived in Ontario for several decades, the two have remained friends. They are my friends, too, but my role today is to chauffeur the aging priest and Amish elder on a day-long tour of Amish country east of South Bend, Indiana.
David has scheduled stops at an Amish museum, Amish school and book publisher, and a private home for an ample meal with a genial Amish family — noddingly entertained by Father Ted’s head-of-the-table discourse on space exploration and the Amazon Basin. Now the buggy ride.
For this leg of the excursion I follow the priest and our gray-beard friend down the dusty, dirt-and-gravel road in the sunny heat of summer. The buggy sways and leans, veers and pitches side to side down the narrow lane. It’s a rolling rural byway with troublesome deep gullies on each side, and it looks like Father Ted needs all the room the slender road offers.