COCAINE ARRESTS CONFIRM DRUG ABUSE AMONG AMISH

The outside world may be shocked at news of narcotics trafficking within
the distinctive sect, but not those on the inside.

Intercourse, Pa.-Across the rolling farmland, idyllic scenes play out one
after another: a bearded man in a straw hat driving horses across a grassy
field. A horse and buggy pulling a lad in black Roller-blades down a
country lane. A woman hanging laundry on an outdoor line, wearing long
sleeves in the summer heat.

The peaceful southeastern Pennsylvania setting that has long charmed the
outside world with its simple ways and innocence was shaken last week by a
jarring truth little known beyond parts of Lancaster County: The Amish have
a drug problem.

"People here have known that there has been a lot of drug problems with
Amish youth, and with liquor, too," said Jack Meyer, a local businessman
and member of the Brethren, a sect similar to the Amish.

Meyer, who offers tourists horse-and-buggy rides, and other observers say
the Amish had until recently dealt with the problem quietly - not as a
group, but within individual families.

No more. News that two Amish men were charged with dealing cocaine in their
communities - and for a motorcycle gang called the Pagans, no less - has
the leaders of the county's 22,000 Old Order Amish, the most conservative
Anabaptist sect, sadly acknowledging a struggle with drugs for at least a
decade.

"I'm scared," said an 81-year-old local bishop, reading his Bible on a hot
afternoon. "I'm really scared about what has happened."

Alcohol and marijuana had long troubled the community, but then several
months ago people started hearing talk about Amish youths using harder
drugs. The bishops sent a letter to all the churches, warning about
cocaine.

Abner Stoltzfus, 24, and Abner King Stoltzfus, 23, are not related, but
their names are as common around here as shoofly pie. The federal
indictment against them unveiled troubles that the Amish, typically
portrayed as separate from the world and content that way, did not want
known.

An Amish farmer who stood on a ladder picking cherries from a tree
underscored this, asking a reporter if people were disappointed with them.
"The big thing about Amish people," Meyer said, "is they want to set a good
example."

Also charged were eight members of the Pagans, who sold the drugs to the
two Stoltzfuses. The Amish men then distributed the drugs to members of
youth groups known as the Crickets, the Antiques and the Pilgrims at
hoedowns between 1993 and 1997.

State troopers in Lancaster, who patrol much of this area's Amish country,
say the Pagans have always ridden on the same roads as the Amish, who
rarely call on police.

Many Amish were willing to stop work on farms and in shops to talk about
the arrests, but they flatly refused to give their names. That, too,
reflects their desire to be left alone.

"My neighbor has a motorcycle. I'll try to stay friends with him," said a
74-year-old retired farmer, driving his buggy up to the White Horse
Machine Shop outside Intercourse. "Hope he'll do the same."

For the last few years, reporters have been quoting the Amish by name,
contrary to the group's long-held religious rules. But after an article on
Amish small businesses appeared in the March issue of Forbes magazine, many
of the county's 84 bishops told parishioners to stop giving out names.

"It really created a stir in the community," said Louise Stoltzfus, a
former member of the Old Order and author of "Traces of Wisdom: Amish Women
and the Pursuit of Life's Simple Pleasures." "People in the community felt
they shouldn't brag about making money."

The 45-year-old Stoltzfus, who is not related to the two men, believes
substance abuse problems in the community are more than a decade old.

"When I was in my 20s, I knew of some Amish youth involved with drugs," she
said. "When they say 10 years, they're saying the problem is growing."

Despite appearances that the modern world is rapidly closing in, the Amish,
who run more than 1,000 small businesses in the county, have long been tied
to the outside.

"There's a myth that these are innocent, barefoot peasants," said Donald
Kraybill, author of "The Riddle of Amish Culture" and provost of Messiah
College in Grantham, Pa. "People don't realize how much they interact with
the outside world."

Much of the Amish aversion to technology is also a myth. True, they eschew
electricity because wires would connect them to the outside, but they use
gaspowered washing machines, refrigerators and other appliances. They don't
own or drive automobiles, but they sometimes hire people to transport them
around the county. They do patronize non-Amish banks and stores.

The Amish turn to modern treatments for severe psychiatric problems, but it
is unclear whether they use substance abuse programs. Kraybill said the
Amish in Indiana experienced drug problems a few years ago and programs
were set up by the state.

The bishops say they can only warn families about drugs - and Amish parents
say their children already know about such dangers. After the arrest of the
Stoltzfus men, however, it seems other measures may be necessary.

"I think it really will have a sobering impact on them," Kraybill said.
"Church leaders may become more active in urging parents to be on the
lookout for this kind of thing and in urging parents to put more
restrictions on their children."

Checked-by: (Joel W. Johnson)