amazing people

No Joshin'. Krajcik's LP, Blindly, Lonely, Lovely, a Keeper.

Denice Hazlett — Tue, 09 Apr 2013 01:52:56 +0000

He has a smile as huge and disarming as his voice and, since we’re talking about Josh Krajcik here, that’s saying a lot.

Fans from the Northeast Ohio area were able to experience both that great big grin and voluminous voice firsthand on Wednesday, April 3 at Best Buy on The Strip in North Canton as the Wooster-raised rock star celebrated the release of his full-length album, Blindly, Lonely, Lovely with an acoustic mini-concert and autograph session.

The album, recorded in London and Los Angeles, gets its name from Krajcik’s experience making the album and his hope for the final product.

“Mostly I went into the studio with a clean slate,” Krajcik said during a recent interview for Larry’s Music Center in Wooster. “It’s sort of why the record’s called Blindly, Lonely, Lovely. If people have an imagination, they have a preconception of what it’s like to make a record, that everything’s laid out for you. In my case, I was in London, alone for the first time, and in L.A. kind of on my own.”

Krajcik says he spent a lot of time alone in those big, unfamiliar cities, and felt much like he was jumping blindly into a massive project with people he didn’t know, apart from those he loved. The loneliness was temporary, though, and what he came away with was something very lovely, an album packed with talent, thanks to Krajcik and an all-start cast of co-writers, musicians and producers. Rolling Stone listed the album #6 out of the 10 most-anticipated albums of 2013, alongside musical giants like Arcade Fire, U2 and Pearl Jam. Hear, Hear! said, “Blindly, Lonely, Lovely showcases Krajcik’s “blues-tinged growl over larger-than-life arrangements which accentuate his ability to merge blues, rock and pop, all within a slick package.” Billboard called the April 2 release “a soulful R&B record, chock full of horns, strings and Krajcik’s rich supple vocals enveloping words of love. His warm tone and earnest delivery also weaves in elements of jazz.”

That combination makes for an album sure to appeal to a wide variety of listeners, evidenced by the cross section of folks crowded just to the right of the store’s door at Wednesday’s performance and signing event.

Pat Walpole of East Canton, CD in hand, eagerly waited to hear Krajcik perform. During season one of The X-Factor, she watched Krajcik’s journey from audition right up to the finale when Krajcik was named runner-up, finally getting the world exposure he’d worked so hard to achieve.

“We even made a trip to Wooster and saw everything the town was doing to support him,” Walpole said. “We were hoping so much he was going to get first place. He went far and did well. He has such a unique sound and his voice is just great.”

Just a few feet from Walpole, two teenagers from Perry Local Schools, Rachel Cherry, 12, and Jadah Vincent, 13, clutched their Krajcik CDs. Like Walpole, Cherry and her mother, Denise Cherry, rooted for Krajcik to win from the very beginning. Denise Cherry attended Wooster City Schools, so she first watched because she had heard a Wooster native was going to be on. She kept watching because she was amazed by how good the singer was.

Emily Dieringer, a freshman at Triway High School, didn’t just hear about Krajcik’s voice before the show. As a student of Krajcik’s stepfather, Bill Pim, she got to hear and meet Krajcik himself as he crooned At Last during a surprise visit to her math class just before wowing the rest of the world with the same song. Dieringer was at Best Buy with her mom, Kelly Dieringer and friends Amy Hall and her children Kyle and Makenna, all of Wooster, and all fans of the singer.

“Our husbands used to watch Josh at Seattle’s coffeehouse back in 2005,” Amy Hall said. She said she remembers thinking, This kid is just so talented. “Anytime my husband knew he was going to be at some local establishment, he went to it.”

Krajcik sang several songs from Blindly, Lonely, Lovely and then treated the crowd to a repeat performance of At Last, the song that first earned him international recognition. He signed autographs and took photos with every fan who turned out and stood in long lines snaking through the aisles of the electronics store. He handed out hugs, heard stories of adoration and devotion and, of course, gifted fan after adoring fan with that huge Josh Krajcik grin.

Find Blindly, Lonely, Lovely on iTunes, where it currently sits solidly at #Nine on the Top Rock Albums list. Tickets for Krajcik’s June 8 show at the Wayne County Fairgrounds can be purchased in the secretary’s office or by phone during office hours, Monday-Friday, from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., and Saturday, from 9 a.m. to noon. Call 330-262-8001 for details.

Caught in the Wake: Daniel Wenzel's Joyce collection

Denice Hazlett — Mon, 11 Mar 2013 17:21:58 +0000

“You’ll either hate it, or it will consume you.”

For Daniel Wenzel, a bookseller living just outside of Killbuck, one book has very nearly consumed not only him, but also, by association and love, his business partner and wife, Leslie McKelley.

Walk into the couple’s solid-panel yurt (think a hobbit house nestled into the woods instead of a hillside), and you’re met with Wenzel’s library, inhabiting a sizable portion of the dwelling’s 735 square (or, as McKelley says, “round”) feet. Nearly 600 of those books are centered around one subject-- in fact, one book--James Joyce’s cyclical, idiosyncratic enigma, Finnegans Wake. And lest you hasten to cry “TYPO!” rest assured; Joyce left out the apostrophe intentionally. If you want to know why, there’s probably an entire book about it. And if there is, Wenzel can likely tell you how to find it.

That’s because Daniel Wenzel falls into the category of one who has been consumed by the Wake, as it’s known, the Irish author’s final work, first published in its entirety in 1939.

But Wenzel wasn’t always a fan, or, as the book’s scholars are dubbed a Wakian. It took years for him to appreciate the book he had picked up and put down several times. As with many things, it started with a bit of sibling rivalry with Wenzel’s older brother, Paul Wenzel.

“I idolized and hated him at the same time,” Wenzel says. “He was better in sports and always finding new music and books. He told me about Joyce’s Ulysses when I was a sophomore in high school, said it was difficult but he enjoyed it.”

Later, one of Wenzel’s teachers at Walsh College, the late Brother Joseph Power, professor of English Language and Literature who studied at St. Catherine’s College, Oxford, under J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, assigned students to read a piece from Dubliners, Joyce’s 1914 collection of short stories. The tale was Araby, a glimpse into the mind of a young boy faced with disappointment after his idealistic view of love and location are destroyed.

“Something about that story struck home,” Wenzel says. “So I read the rest of Dubliners and eventually moved on to Ulysses.”

Wenzel thought that might prepare him for the Wake, so he picked it up. And didn’t understand a word of it.

Wenzel isn’t the only one. The Wake is touted as one of the most difficult books to read, filled with wordplay, concocted languages, sentence fragments and dreams within dreams. Take, for example, this line from the first page:

“The fall (bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!) of a once wallstrait oldparr is retaled early in bed and later on life down through all christian minstrelsy.”

If you need an interpretation for that huge string of letters in the middle, have no fear. It’s the sound of thunder, and there’s an entire book on that subject alone: The Role of Thunder in Finnegans Wake, by Eric McLuhan. Wenzel owns it.

Eventually, though, Wenzel did read the Wake. When asked how long it took, he says about six months. McKelley disagrees.

“He has never stopped,” she says, which actually rings true. As if on a mission to unlock its mystery, Wenzel began collecting all things Joyce, and then, because yurt space is at a premium, sharpened his focus, narrowing it down further and further to just Finnegans Wake, eventually amassing a collection of nearly 800 books on the topic.

That collection was reduced by about 140 titles recently when Wenzel and McKelley hand-delivered a portion of Wenzel’s personal collection to Aedin Clements, Irish Studies Librarian and head of rare books and special collections at the Hesburgh Libraries at the University of Notre Dame. Clements says, in her lovely Irish lilt, that the library attracts people from all over who want to study Irish fiction and will spend a week or two researching in that collection alone.

The delivery came about after a university professor asked Clements to purchase one of a 63-volume set titled Finnegans Wake. Book 2, Chapter 2: a facsimile of drafts, typescripts and proofs. Vol. 2. One of only 250 published. A nearly impossible task.

Until she found Wenzel.

“I’d located a description on AbeBooks and called about it,” Clements says. “I expected to have to explain exactly what I wanted, but Daniel confirmed without having to check. ‘I happen to know Finnegans Wake,’ he said.”

“She was dumbfounded that I actually had what she was looking for,” Wenzel remembers. “I was dumbfounded that Notre Dame didn’t have the James Joyce archives.”

That first exchange back in 2009 led to the purchase of not just that volume, but half of the set. In January of this year, the remaining volumes plus 140 titles from Wenzel’s personal collection also found a new home at Hesburgh Libraries, including one specialized piece titled ?amsolookly kersse?: Clothing in Finnegans Wake.

It was kind of hard for Wenzel to let go, but he knew it was time.

“After 20 years, I was getting somewhat tired of the chase,” Wenzel says. “My wish list had shrunk from page-after-page to 30-40 items.”

So Wenzel and McKelley packed up the treasures and trekked to Notre Dame.

“Over the seven years I’ve been here, I can name the large collections I’ve bought, and Daniel’s is definitely one of them,” Clements says. “Daniel has taken us in a very good step towards having the best print collection on Joyce we can have.”

Wenzel is delighted that the books are in good hands.

“They went where they needed to be,” Wenzel says. “From sitting on a shelf in a yurt in Holmes County to where people can see and study them.”

And just like the never-ending cycle of Finnegans Wake, that portion of Wenzel’s book collection will live on and on.

“They’re in a better place,” Wenzel says, a place where they will be read and studied by those who, like Wenzel, have been consumed by one of the most beloved and confusing pieces of literature in the world.

Going to Gulu

Denice Hazlett — Thu, 03 Jan 2013 21:31:14 +0000

In some ways, Miriam Yoder is just like any typical Holmes County girl. The bright-eyed 20-year-old is into snowboarding, softball, and photography. She hangs out with her boyfriend and loves her family. And when she talks about the airline ticket she just bought, you can see the excitement. She’s like a teen ready to vacation in Sarasota.

But Yoder is not your typical young adult. While she’s heading to warmer weather, she won’t be on vacation. In January, Yoder will venture to Gulu, a city in northern Uganda, Africa that, for 20 years, was held hostage by Joseph Kony and the Lord’s Resistance Army, killing and kidnapping thousands of Gulu’s Acholi people, forcing children to serve as soldiers, and driving millions out of their homes. The town, Yoder says, is recuperating from that era, but access to clean water, medical treatment and basic necessities makes it a slow recovery. War, poverty and AIDS, have left thousands of children without family, home, and with very little hope.

Yoder showed a photo she took when last in Uganda, a snapshot of five kids in tattered clothing, begging for a sip from her water bottle. Many in the area have no access to clean water unless they’re very wealthy. They walk to their drinking water source, where they wash their clothes and their bodies and water their animals. Those five kids, she says, just wanted a drink of clean water.

“But how could I possibly choose which I would give my bottle to?” Yoder says. “People here can’t relate. We’re so used to turning on the faucet and there’s water, or using a toilet with water, instead of going in a hole in the ground.”

The first time Yoder traveled to Africa, she was 19. She’d been working full time as hostess at the Farmstead Restaurant in Berlin. She knew she’d have no work in winter, when tourism in Holmes County slows to a trickle. She didn’t want to sit around, she says, and do nothing. She had a heart for missions, which she’d had a taste of with short-term trips to Costa Rica, New York City and North Carolina through her church, Grace Mennonite in Berlin. But she felt there was something more tugging at her this time. Something bigger.

“I was raised Amish, one of seven children, and I’d lived in Charm my whole life,” says Yoder, daughter of Barb and James Yoder. The family left the Amish church when Miriam was six. “For me, it was more of a chance to grow up, see the world, get outside of Holmes County. I wanted to change things up and see what’s out there, other than horses and buggies.”

Yoder had friends who’d served with Watoto Childcare Ministries. Knowing she wanted to work with children, Yoder wanted to spend three months working in a babies’ home, where abandoned infants are given the love and care they need to grow into healthy children and future leaders. Yoder didn’t tell anyone of her plan--not her parents, siblings, co-workers or friends. She simply filled out the online application and waited anxiously. She was ecstatic to get word of her approval. Others--not so much.

“I knew I was going to experience negativity,” Yoder says. “People didn’t understand why I wanted to go to Africa when there were needs right here in Holmes County. But in Gulu, they don’t have neighbors to help them, like we do, because their neighbors are just like them.”

Because pregnant women in Gulu are often abandoned and unable to get jobs, they, in turn, abandon their babies. If the babies are lucky, they go to orphanages and babies’ homes. While Yoder was serving with Watoto, she cared for babies found in a toilet, pulled out of a dumpster, and dragged in by a dog. These are the lucky ones, the ones who will receive care until age three and raised by carefully selected African women who will oversee their education and upbringing.

Being in Uganda was hard for Yoder. She was 19, far from home, and away from her family and boyfriend, Lavern Yoder, during the holidays. She had a close call with a van while riding on a boda-boda, or motorbike taxi, and another when a friend unwittingly saved her from an imminent mugging.

“It was terrifying,” Yoder says, remembering the boda-boda incident. “I thought that was it. But God was with me through my whole trip.”

Yoder also found it challenging caring for infants and toddlers day after day, feeding, changing and bathing them at all hours. Once her time in Uganda was over, she felt fairly sure she’d never go back. But then, the day before Thanksgiving this year, she knew it was time.

“It’s amazing how God has changed my heart,” she says. “I want to go back next year, and the next, and the next. I want to see things change and grow there.”

Yoder now holds two tickets to Uganda--one for herself and one for older brother Joe Yoder. Together, they will travel to Gulu on Jan. 10, this time spending three weeks working with pastor George Jabulani of Gulu Community Church.

“Our goal is to do as much outreach in the community as possible,” Yoder says. “Whatever God puts in our way, that’s what we’ll do.”

Yoder believes that if every individual would do one kind act to bless someone else, they’d be so overwhelmed with joy, they’d want to do it again.

“I want people to realize there’s more to this life than self,” Yoder says. “People are dying every day because they don’t have food and water, or moms or dads to care for them.

“We have wealthy people here,” Yoder continues. “We’re supposed to help the widows, children and orphans, and I think God wants to use this community.”

Yoder points to the photo of the barely-dressed children begging for water.

“Why don’t we help them? Why don’t we give them a chance?” she asks. “That’s what I want. I want this community to rise up and make a difference.”

Yoder insists it wouldn’t take much.

“My heart was telling me to love these children, so I went,” she says. “You don’t have to change the world; you just have to start with one person at a time, and then they’ll bless others.”

If you’d like to support Miriam Yoder’s trip, send your contribution, noted “Miriam Yoder, Africa Trip,” to Grace Mennonite Church, 5850 County Road 77, Millersburg 44654.

A Presidency Fit for a King

Denice Hazlett — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 16:03:42 +0000

As Christmas draws near, one event has become an important tradition for Dr. David King, his wife, Winnie Lowrie King, and the families of their two grown children, Justin and Lindsey. That tradition takes place in the heart of Philadelphia, not far from where Dr. King served in various capacities at Eastern University for 21 years, most recently as provost. Now, as the 13th president of Canton’s Malone University, traveling back to Philadelphia gives Dr. King a chance to not only celebrate with family and enjoy holiday festivities, but to also take part in that annual tradition--an afternoon performance of Handel’s Messiah by the Philadelphia Orchestra. It’s a high point of preparation and celebration, Dr. King says, that really encourages one’s mind toward Christmas.

The music for Messiah was written in 1741 by German composer George Frideric Handel whose oratorios spurred undergraduate students to sell their own furniture for the five-shilling tickets. And while people readily connect Handel to Messiah, not many know Charles Jennens, the wealthy 40-year-old art patron who tossed in considerable cash for every Handel composition from 1725 onward. Jennens also conceived of and compiled the entire text of Messiah, presenting it to Handel, who composed music for what is now one of the world’s most beloved and widely performed choral pieces. In other words, the success of Handel’s Messiah is largely due to support that remains mostly behind-the-scenes.

Dr. David King understands that kind of strong, unwavering support. As a 1973 graduate of Central Christian School (CCS) in Kidron, Dr. King credits the two years he spent there as some of the most profound and formative, thanks to an ensemble of folks who welcomed him.

Dr. King spent his elementary years as one of Dorothy (Miller) and Eldon King’s five children, growing up in Trail and Walnut Creek while his father pastored Walnut Creek Mennonite Church before moving his family to West Liberty to pastor Oak Grove Mennonite Church. During his junior year, Dr. King followed in his older brothers’ footsteps, becoming a boarding student at Central Christian School. He made his home with Amos and Velma Amstutz just a couple of miles north of Kidron. Dr. King quickly rattles off names of his favorite teachers--Delvin Nussbaum, Laurel Horst, Sherman Eberly, Ernie Martin, and Marion Bontrager--people who not only taught Bible and history and basketball and physical education, but had a passion for learning and a love for Christ and humanity. And then, there was Edna Ressler, who, Dr. King says, made a point of watching out for him.

“I always felt that if I needed to talk to someone, I could go to Edna,” Dr. King says. “I was away from home, off to high school the way most go off to college, but at age 16. She was always warm, hospitable, encouraging and supportive--there the way any parent would be.”

But one of Dr. King’s most formative experiences came from his classmates. It’s not easy, at 16, joining a tight-knit group of 40 students who have spent most of their childhood together. Dr. King, a self-described quiet kid, could easily have felt alienated. But not only did his class welcome him, whether shooting hoops or hanging out eating burgers at Dravenstott’s in Orrville, his fellow students also made him class treasurer. That, paired with Marion Bontrager’s personal development course taught during mini-term, and interaction with passionate, caring teachers, provided a setting that helped bring Dr. King where he is today.

“In hindsight, I can see the genesis of my path was that experience at Central,” King says. “They not only accepted me; they invited me to lead.”

That leadership was more fully developed after college, when King became director of Human Resources at Eastern University in St. David, Pa. Transitioning to university presidency was less a career decision than it was discovering that in Christian higher education, he could flourish in ways he’d never imagined.

“Over time, I began to sense a calling of leadership moving me to Malone,” Dr. King says. “I thoroughly enjoyed my role in human resources, and that’s how I saw myself, but others were seeing a broader leadership.

“If you would have said 10 years ago that I would be anywhere as university president, I’d have rolled my eyes and said, ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’” King laughs. “I had this standard, typical, narrow idea that I was on a path, and that, to grow, I needed to continue in the same role, but at a larger university.”

What Dr. King realized, however, is that he was called to remain in a smaller university. What needed to grow was his willingness to be flexible.

“I’ve learned that one of our chief tasks is to be available,” Dr. King says. “To be available to His still-small voice and His leading, to be willing to be surprised in terms of how He desires to use us.”

Once he began seeking presidency, it didn’t take Dr. King long to see that Malone University was an excellent fit.

“Who I was, having grown out of the Mennonite church, out of a spiritual and faith tradition, with who I was and how I was being called,” Dr. King says, “aligned closely with who Malone saw herself to be, with her character and ethos.”

While he and Winnie have largely attended nondenominational churches, Dr. King’s Mennonite roots and influences have defined much of who he is today.

“As I’ve matured in life,” Dr. King says, “I’ve discovered that my Mennonite heritage is, in the best way, a significant element in my sense of purpose and worldview.”

He also credits his wife with a great measure of his success.

“A major element of this journey has been my partnership with Winnie, her sense of calling and purpose,” Dr. King says. “Hardly anything would have happened the way it has without her support and encouragement.”

And so, like a beloved oratorio, Dr. King’s life has been beautifully orchestrated by a rich educational experience, encouraging mentors, a strong marriage partner, and the still small voice of one King speaking into the heart of another.

For more information about Malone University, visit malone.edu or call 800-521-1146.

Chalet in the Valley: A Swiss Tradition in Ohio's Doughty Valley

Denice Hazlett — Tue, 18 Dec 2012 20:35:06 +0000

When Margaret Guggisberg was just a young girl growing up in Welsberg, Austria, one of her most important and treasured tasks was to trek up the mountain to the cloistered convent of the Ursuline nuns to deliver their beautiful embroidery and lace back to the Catholic church in the valley below, where her father, the sexton, was in charge of caring for the church, which also meant ringing the bells that began at five o’clock every morning. On those visits to the convent, young Margaret would be served a bowl of warm, delicious milk rice, a sweet dish spiced with cinnamon and dotted with plump, juicy raisins, an expression of gratitude extended by the sisters. Guggisberg particularly enjoyed the sisters’ milk rice because it wasn’t something often served at home. But when her mother did stir up a batch, young Margaret would stand beside the stove and watch carefully, learning to duplicate the creamy dessert she now serves to her grandchildren. Even today, that delicious milk rice lingers in her mind as one of Guggisberg’s fondest food memories, setting the table for the delightful dishes she’d someday serve to thousands of grateful guests.

In 1947, Margaret and Alfred Guggisberg, namesakes of the Guggisberg municipality in the Swiss canton of Bern, settled in the beautiful Doughty Valley of Holmes County. There, they bought rich, fresh milk from the local Amish farmers, crafting it into Alfred Guggisberg’s signature Baby Swiss. Margaret Guggisberg would often work in the front offices of the cheese house, gazing out the picture window on the nearby hillside. One day, in the early 1980s, an idea popped into her mind.

“I looked over at the empty spot and told my husband, ‘There should be a restaurant over there, or at least a coffee shop,’ and he said, ‘You know what? I was thinking of that, too.’”

And from that, the Chalet in the Valley Restaurant was born, just north of the quiet village of Charm, a family tradition that continues to showcase the authentic Swiss and Austrian foods Margaret Guggisberg grew up with in and around Welsberg.

Stepping through the doors of the Chalet in the Valley Restaurant is an experience unlike any other in Ohio’s Amish Country, from the warm and friendly greeting by the hostess, to the unique Swiss/Austrian decor, complete with cow bells, cuckoo clocks, and the impressive dining room chandelier made by Alfred Guggisberg, to the very last bite of their signature Black Forest cake. The folks at Chalet in the Valley Restaurant strive to offer guests a complete European experience, with a unique atmosphere, exceptional service, and authentic food that generations of visitors know and love, all within the gorgeous setting of the picturesque hills and farmland of the fertile Doughty Valley.

When Margaret Guggisberg decided to open the Chalet in the Valley Restaurant in 1983, her goal was to offer the most savory and authentic meals possible. She hired a young and eager chef, Jeff Allison, to help her develop the dishes she’d always adored, classics like Wiener Schnitzel (tenderized, breaded veal cutlets), which were very popular in Vienna, tender spaetzle egg noodles with beef tips, and, of course, the rich, delicious shredded and fried potatoes known as Rosti (pronounced RAY shtee), a favorite in Switzerland, made even more so when topped with Guggisberg’s now-famous mild and creamy Baby Swiss cheese, invented by Alfred Guggisberg and named by Margaret as a nod to the diminutive size of the wheels of Baby Swiss.

Today, those culinary treasures remain, along with a variety of new classics Allison and his dedicated kitchen staff have developed over the 29 years Allison has been creating the Chalet’s favored fare. Guests can now choose not only from pan-fried Wiener Schnitzel, but also Jaeger Schnitzel, a veal cutlet marinated in white wine, pan-fried, and served with mushroom sauce, or Rahm Schnitzel, a pan-fried veal cutlet served with a savory cream sauce, in addition to Schwien (pork) and Chicken Schnitzel as well. New dishes, like the Black Forest Pork Loin, marinated, grilled, and smothered with sautéed mushrooms and Baby Swiss cheese, are pleasantly surprising even the Chalet’s longtime guests. The Chalet’s Sunday afternoon buffets, open from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., offer an opportunity to sample a wide range of specialties.

Granddaughter Ursula Guggisberg-Bennett, named after the saint of the Ursuline sisters Margaret Guggisberg so fondly recalls from her childhood, now oversees the bustling Chalet in the Valley Restaurant, one of the few dining establishments in the area open on Sunday afternoons. Guggisberg-Bennett, along with assistant manager Alisha Oswald, and key manager, Carmella Guisinger, put top priority on implementing exceptional customer service.

“We stress to the entire staff that our guests are well cared for,” Guggisberg-Bennett says, “no matter what it takes.”

Guggisberg-Bennett says one of her favorite items on the menu is their original recipe fondue, prepared Olde-World style, using Gruyere and Guggisberg’s own Baby Swiss cheeses, with splashes of Sauternes and Sherry wines, served bubbling hot and surrounded by chunks of Italian bread. For a sweet treat, Guggisberg-Bennett suggests their chocolate fondue, with dipping options like fresh strawberries, crisp pretzels, and creamy cheesecake.

“It’s really fun, because a family can come in together after church on Sunday and gather around the table to enjoy a great fondue meal,” Guggisberg-Bennett says. “It’s something you can’t do anywhere else in the area.”

Margaret Guggisberg still lives in the beautiful Doughty Valley and has been blessed with 12 grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren. She says when she came to the United States more than 60 years ago, her biggest hopes and dreams were for her husband to have his own successful cheese house, but she never quite dreamed she’d also have such a beautiful family and a thriving restaurant of her own.

“But there it is,” she says, looking out her picture window at the quaint Swiss-style chalet, its window boxes overflowing with brightly-colored geraniums. The bell on the cheese house’s clock tower, modeled after a similar one in Guggisberg, Switzerland, chimes a soft, pleasant tune from The Sound of Music. “It was a little more work, but it was gratifying,” she says, “and it turned out just the way we wanted it to. I’m very, very blessed.”

The Chalet in the Valley Restaurant is located at 5060 state Route 557, across from the Guggisberg Cheese Factory. For questions or reservations, call 330-893-2550. Visit their website at www.chaletinthevalley.com for more information, including their full menu. Their Facebook page announces special offers and events.

Bob Andrews: From Pearl Harbor to V.E. Day

Denice Hazlett — Tue, 18 Dec 2012 20:30:15 +0000

The year was 1941. Glen Miller’s Chattanooga Choo Choo was the hit song of the year, earning the very first gold record, General Mills introduced their new cereal, Cheerioats, and Joe DiMaggio was in the middle of what would be a 56-game hitting streak, a record still unbroken today.

Robert Woodrow Andrews was 27 years old and single, though he had his eye on Lee Clutter, a grade-school teacher from East Sparta. He had grown up on his parents’ farm just outside of Wilmot, the son of Iva (Sigrist) and auctioneer Walter Andrews. Less than a year before, President Roosevelt had signed the Selective Training and Service Act, the United States’ first peacetime conscription, and Robert, like all men in the U.S. age 21 to 45, had registered for the selective service.

Each registered man was assigned a number which would be drawn by national lottery. When a man’s number was called, he reported for service and was required to serve for one year. After that year, he could return home. On June 10, 1941, Robert Andrews’ number was called and he was sent to Oahu, Hawaii for basic training to complete his one year of service. At least that was the plan. But on Dec. 7, 1941, something happened that changed not only Robert “Andy” Andrews’ plans, but the history of the world.

“I had just washed my mess kit and was walking back toward my tent in Schofield Barracks, says Andrews, 98, from his room at Walnut Hills Retirement Home. “Airplanes were always in the air, but here came this plane, not more than 10 feet over my head, flying straight at me with his guns blazing. It happened in about three seconds: here he comes, there he is, there he goes.”

What Andrews was witnessing was the beginning of the Imperial Japanese Navy’s surprise attack on Pearl Harbor and the United States’ entry into World War II. During that attack, 228 soldiers were killed, 110 seriously wounded, and 358 slightly wounded. From Schofield Barracks alone, five soldiers died. Andrews was unharmed.
“What spared me was that his guns were mounted five feet out in the wing of the airplane, kicking up stones to my left,” Andrews recalls. “I remember that pilot; it was an open cockpit, and after he passed, he turned and looked at me, laughing.” The plane was so close that Andrews could see some of the pilot’s gold teeth. The country was at war, and now, there was no going home.

Following Pearl Harbor, Andrews was sent to officer candidate school at Camp Davis, N.C. where he became second lieutenant. During a seven-day leave following land maneuvers in Tennessee, Andrews decided there was something he needed to do before the ship carried him off to war in England. He asked his Colonel for an extension.

“What’s your problem?” the Colonel asked.

“I want to get married,” Andrews said. He laughs as he remembers his Colonel’s response. “He waved his hand at me and said, ‘Well, go ahead.’”

So Andrews and Lee were married in the middle of the war and spent 30 days of married life in a rented upstairs room in Tullahoma, Tenn. After that, Lee returned to East Sparta, and Robert went to war. They wouldn’t see each other again for more than two years.

In England, Andrews’ anti-aircraft artillery battalion became part of the 4th Infantry Division that made landing on Normandy’s Utah Beach during the first 15 hours of D-Day, June 6, 1944. There, Andrews became first lieutenant, taking three gun crews through the rest of WWII, through France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Germany.

“When the war ended, on Victory in Europe Day, we were in the Bavarian Alps south of Munich,” Andrews recalls. “We were cruising around in the Jeep and came to a beer hall out in the country. The German soldiers there had just lost a war, and the Russians had just won a war.”

Andrews says a German soldier approached him, offering to join the Americans to fight the Russians.

“No thanks,” Andrews said. “I’ve had all the war I want to see.”

Andrews returned home to his wife in October, 1945 and purchased the Farmerstown Auction and the house that sat on the property.

“Lee and I moved into that house on Groundhog Day, 1946 and began housekeeping there,” Andrews says. “We raised our two boys, Steve and Scott, and our daughters Carol (Breeding) and Mitz (Ekers). We lived there from 1946 until June 2011.”

The fact that Andrews experienced the entirety of World War II, from Pearl Harbor to V.E. Day, is not insignificant. The fact that he’s still around to tell about it is even more amazing.

“I would say he’s a member of a very unique club,” says Mike McKinney, communications director of the Ohio Department of Veterans Services. “There are certainly not many veterans around who were there for Pearl Harbor. Your Holmes County veteran who was not only at Pearl Harbor but served all throughout the war is pretty rare. That’s probably one of the more unusual career patterns I’ve heard of.”

McKinney says Andrews is probably one of only “a handful of people alive today” who had that type of cross-theater experience. In fact, McKinney points to a ceremony held last year, the 70th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, as the last, since so few veterans remain.

“That’s unusual that someone would serve for that long of a period, throughout the entire war, and still be with us,” says Jason Brooks, director of Holmes County Veterans Services.

Andrews lost Lee Feb. 22, 2011. They had been married 68 years, had eight grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. Today, at 98, Andrews is still sharp as a tack, drives, and enjoys golfing at Willandale Golf Club in warm weather, a hobby he picked up in his seventies. On a good day, he gets bogies.

“Once in a while, I’ll get a par on a three,” he says, “but I’m also familiar with some sixes and sevens.”

Looking back, Andrews says the four years and four months he spent in WWII were the most difficult and rewarding of his life. He’s proud to have been able to lead his battalion successfully, serve in the military fully, and help ensure freedom for his country. For Andrews, it was all worth it.

(Wo)man versus Nature

Denice Hazlett — Wed, 03 Oct 2012 22:12:25 +0000

"It takes embracing some abandon.”

That’s just one piece of advice Kim Tish has for folks considering training for their first triathlon, something Tish, of Millersburg, is learning a lot about right now.

Four years ago, when Tish began walking with a friend on the Holmes County Trail as a way to relieve stress, she had no intention of doing anything more ambitious than that. She just enjoyed getting out for a peaceful, relaxing two-mile stroll to breathe the fresh air and have a nice chat with a walking buddy.

But then she heard about a running plan called Couch Potato to 5K, a beginner’s simple, straightforward prescription for escaping a sedentary lifestyle. The plan promises to have non-runners covering a three-mile span within just 12 weeks by alternating jogging with walking for 20-30 minute sessions three times per week, gradually building up to the final goal. For Tish, the plan worked.

“When I ran my first mile, it was a big deal for me,” Tish says. “It was really slow, probably a 13-minute mile, but I was thrilled.”

Tish’s hope was to complete the Joel Pomerene Memorial 5K in September of 2008. Her goal, she says, was to finish in less than 30 minutes, which she did.

“I actually passed some people, which really surprised me,” Tish laughs.

That would be Kim Tish’s last 5K for four years because, this time, she was setting her sights even higher, aiming to run the Cleveland Experience half-marathon in May 2009. As of today, just four years after setting foot on the trail hoping to walk away stress, Tish has run five half-marathons, four full-marathons, and, her biggest challenge to date, Mohican’s Forget the PR (Personal Record), a 50K which had her scrambling over logs and sloshing through creek beds, taking more than eight hours to complete.

“I wanted to give up several times during preparation for the 50K,” Tish says. “I loved the event, but training was awful. Too much time, too many miles, too much extreme cold. Plus, I had to figure out how to run on top of ice.”

But she didn’t give up, even when she and her training partner, Lisa Kurtz, of Glenmont, ended one winter run to find their hair frozen solid.

Then, earlier this year, Tish and Kurtz heard rumors that a new kind of challenge was coming to town--a triathlon to be held right here in Holmes County.

“We were interested in the triathlon to give ourselves a break from all the running,” Tish says, “to shake up the workout a little, because you can get burnt out on running.”

As soon as the rumors were confirmed and the inaugural Healthy Holmes County Coalition (HHCC) Man vs. Nature Triathlon was posted online, Tish and Kurtz were registered.

The HHCC was formed through the Holmes County Health District by people in the community who are passionate about helping others become more physically fit. HHCC coordinator Cathy Hay says the triathlon came about as not only a way to promote fitness, but to create a source of funding for other important HHCC projects as well.

“People would paint the visions they had for things they wanted to do in the community as part of the coalition, but there was no funding stream,” Hay says. “Dr. D.J. McFadden shared that he had always dreamed of the health district hosting a triathlon. I saw it as a potential for generating a budget to fund community classes for the coalition.”

“About six years ago, when we were looking at creative ways of funding things we wanted to do with the health department, many weren’t consistent with our mission,” McFadden says. “There were so many 5Ks in the area, so, I thought, why not a triathlon?”

When the HHCC explored the idea, they found a good deal of interest. Some people, like Tish and Kurtz, had been considering registering for a triathlon in other cities and were thrilled to find one in their own backyard. Some hadn’t even considered it but decided to give it a go since it was to be hosted in Holmes County. As of now, there are more than 60 registrants, mostly local folks, who are preparing for the July 21 event, which will have participants gathering at 7:30 a.m. to complete a three-phase challenge, beginning with a half-mile swim in Lake Buckhorn, then a 12.54 mile bike route beginning at the SR 83 intersection out of Lake Buckhorn, and continuing on county roads 19 and 58 to state Route 83 where they’ll finish with a 5K out-and-back run on the Holmes County Trail.

Not surprisingly, Tish says the most challenging parts of training for her have been swimming and biking. For the aquatic leg of the event, Tish traveled to the Wooster YMCA for adult swimming lessons. For the biking part, she takes to the streets on her new Giant road bike alongside Kurtz. This, she says, might be one of the hardest parts, the part where she has to embrace that abandon. While her training partner seems to have no problem flying fearlessly down the steepest hills, Tish says it took her a while to stop worrying about loose gravel and potholes, to realize she could see ahead of her and just enjoy the ride.

McFadden says the feedback on the upcoming event has been very positive. He hopes it will continue a momentum and expose visitors to the beauty of Holmes County.

“It’s meeting all of the goals I had for it,” McFadden says, “to encourage folks to try something they wouldn’t have thought possible. It’s generating excitement in addition to raising funds to support future efforts to keep people physically fit.”

As for Tish, she knows she has come a long way since those days of strolling a mile or two on the trail.

“I never dreamed I would run so many miles,” Tish says. “I’d encourage people to set a goal, do some research, and find a running partner if they want to start. For me, it’s like therapy.”

For more information, visit http://www.active.com/triathlon/millersburg-oh/healthy-holmes-tri---man-vs-nature-2012 or call 330-674-5035.

The Man versus Nature Triathlon has been organized by the planning committee of Arnie Oliver, D.J. McFadden, Cathy Hay, Jeff Alexander, Jen Halverson, Kate Shumaker, Kathy Kelly, Laurie Sabel, Midge Roberts and Steve Schwarzwalder and is sponsored by Active Chiropractic, Commercial & Savings Bank, Hummel Group, the Killbuck Savings Bank, Nature’s Food Market; Real Estate Showcase and the Healthy Holmes County Coalition, which strives to inspire passion within individuals and organizations to embrace and integrate quality nutrition and physical activity as part of their daily lives to improve the health and well-being of the community.

From Tragedy, a Promise Kep

Denice Hazlett — Wed, 03 Oct 2012 22:09:49 +0000

John Betts and his father, Feroen Betts, were preparing to board an airplane to Fort Myers, Fla., where John’s son, David, a sophomore at Bluffton University, was getting ready to kick off the season as second baseman for the Bluffton Beavers. David Betts and his teammates were already en route to the Gene Cusic Collegiate Classic via chartered motorcoach, a trip the young Betts had been looking forward to since the beginning of the school year, maybe even since the spring before.

“He had been disappointed that he hadn’t played much the previous year and didn’t get to travel to Florida,” said Bluffton’s head baseball coach James Grandey. “He had come to me at the end of his freshman year asking what he needed to do to improve. I gave him a list, and when he came back in the fall, he had taken what I’d said to heart. He had become a different player.”

In fact, David Betts had improved so much that Grandey had put him in the season’s starting lineup.

But before John and Feroen Betts could board their plane, John Betts caught sight of a breaking CNN news story that gave him serious pause--an overturned charter bus splayed across Interstate 75 in Atlanta, Ga.

“The report said a bus carrying a Little League team traveling through Atlanta hit and rolled over an overpass,” John Betts said. “I had a very bad feeling because it was the same route and time that the Bluffton team was going through.”

Feroen Betts convinced his son to stick with their plans, boarding the flight from Dayton to Charlotte, N.C. Upon landing, John Betts received the news; the bus carrying the Bluffton baseball team had, in fact, careened off an overpass and plunged 19 feet to the highway below, closing Atlanta’s I-75 for five hours.

“My wife and I were both very concerned because it was about 8 p.m., and David would have called to let us know he was okay,” Betts said, “so we knew he was either dead or severely injured.”

Delta rerouted a flight to deliver John Betts to Atlanta’s Grady Memorial Hospital, one of three facilities to which the accident victims had been transported. But he was told his son wasn’t there. Nor was he at Atlanta Medical Center. Nor Piedmont Hospital. There was only one more place emergency teams could suggest--the Fulton County morgue where the four students who were killed in the accident had been taken.

“So I went,” Betts said, “and that’s where I had to identify my son.”

Less than 30 minutes later, the grieving Betts had returned to Grady Memorial Hospital, to the group of tight-knit players who were struggling to process the day’s events--an unthinkable accident that claimed the lives of the motorcoach driver and his wife, injuries to 28 players and coaches, and the loss of four teammates--David Betts, Tyler Williams, Scott Harmon, and Cody Holp. A fifth player, Zach Arend, would die days later as a result of his injuries. John Betts made a promise to those players, and to himself.

“I told them something good would come of this tragedy,” Betts said, “because David was good.”

David Betts had not only excelled athletically, academically and musically, but interpersonally as well. Shortly before the accident, Bluffton University had hosted a community event for area school children. Twin boys approached David Betts, asking for his autograph. Betts disappeared and returned a few minutes later, handing them a baseball that held not only his signature, but covered with the signatures of all the players.

“That’s the kind of legacy he left,” John Betts said. “People don’t remember you because you went to all-state or hit a grand slam, but because of the kind of person you were. David knew it was important to be good to people, to show random acts of kindness.”

Now that promise John Betts made to the Bluffton baseball team five years ago has been fulfilled. On Friday, July 6, President Barack Obama signed into law the bipartisan Motorcoach Enhanced Safety Act authored by U.S. Senator Sherrod Brown (D-OH) in response to the 2007 Bluffton University bus accident.

The new law, according to Sen. Brown’s press secretary, Allison Preiss, will, among other things, require motorcoaches to be equipped with safety belts, stronger seating systems, reinforced roofs, anti-ejection glazing on windows, reduced interior flammability, and enhanced commercial driver training to improve tour bus safety and reduce driver fatigue.

“Stronger bus standards are long overdue,” Sen. Brown said. “By equipping buses with common sense safety measures, we can help prevent deaths and minimize injuries. Simply put, this bill will help save lives.”

According to the American Bus Association, 750 million passengers travel by motorcoach annually, 65 percent of which are students and senior citizens. The majority of motorcoach companies operate fleets of 10 vehicles or fewer. Husband and wife team Dave and Irene Swartzentruber and son, Wendyl Swartzentruber, own and operate one such company, Pioneer Trails of Millersburg, which has been carrying customers from Holmes County and beyond across the continental United States and Canada for 29 years. While their 12 motorcoaches are routinely inspected for safety, and drivers meet all Department of Transportation requirements to prevent fatigue, their vehicles, like most motorcoaches, do not include safety belts or roof reinforcements, which could be required in all existing motorcoaches within 18 months and all new motorcoaches after two years. Even considering the 2007 Bluffton accident, and those in Washington State, Virginia and New York that claimed dozens of lives in 2011, Dave Swartzentruber maintains that motorcoach travel is still the safest mode of transportation.

“If there’s a motorcoach accident and a few people are killed,” Swartzentruber said, “that’s a small number compared to the amount of travel nationwide. Personally, I’d rather travel in a bus than a truck, car or airplane, because I think it’s still the safest way.”

Even so, Swartzentruber said, Pioneer Trails will do whatever is necessary to comply with the new law, and stressed that his ultimate goal is to run a safe operation, though the required changes could increase customers’ travel costs.

“When you have millions of dollars already invested in buses,” Swartzentruber said, “and then you have to put in new seats with seat belts, you’d have to spend about $60,000 adding those new seats.”

But for John Betts and his wife, Joy, that’s a small price to pay for saving even one life.

“The fact is,” John Betts said, “Sen. Brown did what no one in the last 45 years has been able to do--to get important motorcoach safety laws passed.”

Sen. Brown said the enactment of this law wouldn’t have happened without the tireless advocacy of John and Joy Betts, who turned their grief into action.

That, Bluffton coach James Grandey said, is because John Betts is a determined person whose apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“David was one of the most determined players I’ve ever coached or will ever coach,” Grandey said. “He took that determination into everything he did, from the classroom to the playing field.”

Bluffton University president Dr. James M. Harder said the university is very pleased that the House and Senate have passed legislation that will result in enhancements to motorcoach safety.

“We applaud the efforts of Senators Brown and [Texas Sen. Kay Bailey] Hutchison to steward this bill. We also express deep appreciation to John and Joy Betts and family for their passion and perseverance for improved safety enhancements as a way to remember the lives of their son David and the lives of Zachary, Scott, Cody, Tyler and all the players and coaches from the 2007 baseball team. We are thankful for the improvements that will protect future passengers on motor coaches.”

“We’re very happy about the bill,” John Betts said. “Our family feels very good that people traveling by motorcoach will be that much more safe.”

And so, out of tragedy comes the promise, and the fruition, of something good.

“It didn’t bring David back,” Betts said. “But it honors him and all the victims who died and the many thousands who are permanently disabled due to motorcoach crashes.”

Jerry Schlabach: Leader for Literacy

Denice Hazlett — Wed, 03 Oct 2012 22:06:39 +0000

Jerry Schlabach was just a child when he first began traveling to far-off, exotic places, beautiful and exciting locations like Norway, Spain and Africa. He saw double-decker buses trundle down the foggy streets of London and visited the manors, châteaux and walled cities of Brittany. And he experienced it all from his third-grade classroom at Berlin Elementary, engrossed in the stories of “If I Were Going,” his third-grade Alice and Jerry reader.

Back then, Schlabach’s family didn’t travel much; there were chores to do, cows to milk. Reading, he says, broadened his horizons beyond what he could see from his family’s Amish farm west of Berlin. Within the pages of a book, he could travel back in time to learn about his favorite historical figures, or hop across the ocean and visit the south of France. He always dreamed that, someday, he would visit the places he read about, see for himself some of the important historical sites and influential people who filled the pages of his beloved literature. He enjoyed his life, appreciated his parents’ hard work and his dad’s extensive library, but he also knew there were important things for him to do outside of Holmes County.

Then, when Schlabach turned 21, one of his best friends invited him to go to Haiti on a missions trip.

“I had never traveled up until that point and didn’t even know where Haiti was,” Schlabach remembers, “But, immediately, I said yes.”

That trip was life-changing. Schlabach saw people who had nothing, who were struggling to survive, and those images stuck in his mind - and in his heart.

“Once you get involved, when you see youngsters who don’t have the basic needs of life - education, food, health, that motivates you to stay involved.”

And that involvement has taken Schlabach around the world to many of the places he’d traveled as a child in his imagination. He’s seen the double-decker buses and the foggy London streets. He’s been to Europe seven times, Romania and Haiti five times. He’s been to Asia, and Germany and has traveled along the coast of Normandy after reading about WWII and D-day, has been to Northern Ireland on missions of peace and justice. And when he’s home, he’s helping others, like the children he teaches at Wise and Mount Hope elementary schools, understand the importance of putting their minds and imaginations to work by opening a book.

“I tell children in my classes that the quickest way to take a trip is to read,” says Schlabach, who also serves as the librarian for Mount Hope elementary. “Sometimes I buy books just so I can give them away.”

Schlabach says that, over the years, he has become very aware of the correlation between reading and success in life.

“When you look at people who have a hard time in the job market, who have a hard time associating with other people, much of it comes back to the basics of reading and comprehension,” Schlabach says. “If you’re a good reader and have good reading comprehension, you adapt well to any other things that come up in life. Reading and communication skills are the two major things people need to succeed.”

This, Schlabach says, is one of the primary reasons he has decided to do something no one among the Amish in Holmes County has done, at least not in recent memory.

According to Bill Martino, director of the Holmes County District Public Library (HCDPL), the library’s seven-member board, currently made up of attorneys, teachers, and bankers, has the final decision on major policies, changes in personnel, budget-related and image issues, and material concerns brought forth by patrons. Since Martino became director in January 2011, he has sought just the right person to fill the board’s vacant spot. Because of the significant number of Amish members in the community, Martino thought it would be good to have someone Amish on the board. Judge Thomas Lee mentioned Schlabach’s name, so Martino contacted him and the two met to discuss the possibility.

“My initial reaction,” Schlabach says, “is always asking questions. Is there anything I can bring that can enhance the board? If there isn’t, then I have to ask myself why I would be there.”

For Schlabach, being there means promoting reading in his community and schools, especially the importance of the bookmobile to the Amish of Holmes County.

“I felt there was opportunity to give direction and insight,” Schlabach says. “Hopefully, I will be able to help the community understand that the bookmobile and public libraries are for their use, for the enhancement of their lives.”

And so, as of May 17, Jerry Schlabach became the first Amish member of the Holmes County District Public Library board.

Schlabach knows some families steer clear of the library because they’re concerned about the appropriateness of materials, but he feels it’s important for families to discuss those issues and make the final decision about what’s appropriate for their own homes instead of allowing someone else to do it. Ultimately, he says, it’s each family’s choice to determine whether a specific material improves their lives.

“Everyone has to make their own choice, as they do with everything else in life,” Schlabach says. “You have to ask yourself, ‘What am I reading? What am I allowing into my house to be read?’ Those are personal choices that need to be made by each household.”

To that end, Schlabach advises parents to take the time to read books with their children, and, he says, if the child doesn’t like reading, to develop that love by reading to the child, sharing with them the excitement of literature, the spiritual and moral values that can be learned from the experiences of others, and the travel that can be done mentally.

“People need to read,” Schlabach says. “Our culture has become lazy in relation to reading. Yes, you have to focus and get your mind into the story. But reading and building relationships through reading are extremely important.”

Schlabach says he knows that, had he not read, he would have missed out on some of the most meaningful and profound knowledge and experiences of his life.

“I would not have had the enjoyment of some of my travels or experiences had it not been for the reading I did at an early age,” Schlabach says, sitting in his small office in the heart of Berlin, surrounded by words of all kinds - posters, magazines, and shelves and shelves of books. “Now, I’ve been around the world and seen many of the things I’d read about as a child.”

“You never know,” Schlabach says, leaning back in his chair, “where reading is going to take you.”

Richard Guggisberg: Champion Cheesemaker

Denice Hazlett — Wed, 03 Oct 2012 22:02:32 +0000

Richard Guggisberg could barely see over the top of the copper vats when he first started scraping cheese bits off the cloth in the family’s cheesehouse along a stretch of dirt road meandering through the quiet Doughty Valley. He has fond memories of Saturday evenings when the local farmers would deliver their milk so Alfred and Margaret Guggisberg could make two 180 pound wheels of swiss every other day. In that valley, the couple not only nurtured three growing children, but a budding business as well.

“He was inventive,” Guggisberg says of his father. “He had a gift for figuring things out.”

His father’s real love, he says, wasn’t cheese, but working with metal. Alfred Guggisberg invented a special hinge and latch system on the cheese boxes. Other factories in the area--and there were as many as 40 during the 60s--saw how well Alfred Guggisberg’s invention worked, so he made boxes for them, too, crafting them with hammers and rivets.

As a child, Richard Guggisberg treasured the time with his dad, experimenting with new recipes or hearing about the methods he’d learned during his studies in Switzerland. He looked forward to spring in the valley when the cheese house would bustle with activity from early morning until late evening.

But, as a teen, Guggisberg was restless. He and his friends were ready to skip their small town. They talked about road trips out west and canoe adventures in Canada, and, before long, he decided there might be more to life than making cheese.

Just after high school, Guggisberg and his best friend picked a Canadian lake on the map, headed north, and explored to their hearts’ content.

“We had a fantastic time,” Guggisberg recalls, “canoeing across the lake, camping, seeing moose. It was like paradise up there, just the kind of thing a boy dreams of.”

A couple years later, they decided to do it again, but this trip would change Richard Guggisberg’s life forever. Returning across the lake on the way home, a sudden storm overloaded their canoe, forcing the boys to swim to shore.

“I made it back and he didn’t,” Guggisberg says, remembering the devastation of losing his lifelong best friend. Not long after, when a guy he barely knew invited him to go west, Guggisberg packed his things and went.

“Everyone has their own way of dealing with things,” Guggisberg says. “Losing my friend was one of the reasons I had to get away from home, but it wasn’t the only reason.”

Guggisberg left an Ohio blizzard and stepped into sunny Scottsdale, Ariz., where he found a great job and planned to earn his real estate license. Still, the cheese making business was never far from his mind. He even entertained the idea of building a little factory in Scottsdale.

Eventually, he says, he grew tired of seeing the sun every day. In Holmes County, he had taken long drives through the lush countryside, but in Scottsdale, he could drive for an hour before getting out of the city, and then, all he could see was brown. When one of the cheesemakers back home needed a vacation, Guggisberg hopped in his car.

“Driving into Ohio was like driving into a fantasyland,” Guggisberg says. “It was so green and lush, I decided I didn’t want to leave my four seasons ever again.”

But it wasn’t just the four seasons that made Guggisberg return to the family business.

“I remember my dad “I remember my dad saying, ‘My bag isn’t making cheese, it’s working with metal.’ But making cheese was the opportunity he had. He’d made cheese all over Europe, and his first choice was to go to Australia. When he didn’t hear back from there, he came here instead. So he didn’t discourage me from finding my own way. But I think he understood the wanderlust, too.”

So Guggisberg returned to cheesemaking and hasn’t looked back, though he knows his time in Arizona was essential.

“I had to know I could go out there and make it on my own, go someplace completely new and prove to myself that I could start from scratch,” Guggisberg says. “It was a good experience, a necessary experience.”

Richard Guggisberg is now president of one of only a handful of swiss cheese manufacturers in the United States, and the only one who can claim to have invented Baby Swiss. His four daughters spent much of their childhood in the same house, now along a busy state route instead of a dirt road, where Guggisberg lived and learned the art, skill and science of cheesemaking. His eldest daughter, Ursula Bennett, manages the family’s restaurant, Chalet in the Valley, and her husband, Kyle Bennett, is Doughty Valley’s plant manager. His mother, Margaret, still lives within walking distance of the business.

Guggisberg says a lot of things have changed over the years--distribution, marketing, development and research--but some haven’t. Creating good cheese, he says, is the same process, whether you’re making 10 pounds or 10 million; you start with good milk, good cultures, and a certain level of experience and skill. Just last year, the company took what Guggisberg calls a leap of faith, returning to copper vats after years of using stainless steel and in 2011, Guggisberg’s Premium Swiss took the four top spots in the Swiss category at the United States Cheese Championship Contest. This year, Guggisberg competed against 24 different countries in the World Cheese Championship, taking Best of Class in the rindless Swiss category with a score of 97.40.

And though it’s been nearly 30 years since his dad passed away, and the company has gone from making two 180 pound wheels every two days to producing 100,000 pounds daily of around 30 varieties between their three plants, Richard Guggisberg says he’s still finding that some of the methods his dad talked about were right.

“Even now in these last 10 years, I’ve found things he learned back in Switzerland were true and valid today. There’s a depth of knowledge in those countries you don’t find anywhere else. Sometimes,” Guggisberg says, “I wish he was around so I could say, ‘Hey, you really did know what you were talking about.’”