KIT The Keep In Touch Newsletter

Volume XXVII No. 2 April 2015

The KIT Newsletter editorial staff welcomes all suggested contributions for publication in the Newsletter from
subscribers and readers, but whether a given submission meets the criteria for publication is at the sole
discretion of the editors. While priority will be given to original contributions by people with past Bruderhof
connections, any letters, articles or reports which the editors deem to be of historical or personal interest or to
offer new perspectives on issues of particular relevance to the ex-Bruderhof Newsletter readership, may be
included as well. The editors may suggest to the authors changes to improve their presentation.
Have you subscribed to the KIT Newsletter via email?
And have you made your KIT Newsletter subscription/donation payment this year?
Please find details on the last page.

CONTENTS:

Passing on the KIT Newsletter Editorship by Susanna Alves. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

Seeking a New Editor by Raphael Vowles. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
Observations on the Bruderhof and KIT by Charlie Lamar. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
The Banana Bull by William Bridgwater. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
Announcing OUR PRIMAVERA PHOTOS on flickr by Raphael Vowles. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
Reminders and an Invitation:
The Bulstrode Gathering by Andy Harries. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
Our Friendly Crossways Reunion by Al Hinkey, Maeve Whitty and Virginia Cuenca Loewenthal. 10
An Invitation by Andy Harries. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

Remembering our dear ones who have gone from this life:
Balthasar (Balz) Trmpi by Elisabeth Bohlken Zumpe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
Karen Greenwood by Margot Purcell.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Remembering Margaret by Elisabeth Bohlken Zumpe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
My Memories of Margaret by Catherine (Jefferies) Rendle. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Margaret Adlington remembered by Joy MacDonald. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
Memories of Margaret by Andy Harries. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
Treasured Memories by Carol (Beels) Beck. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
Thanksgiving Celebration for Margaret by Carol (Beels) Beck. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
Margarets Thanksgiving Service by Andy Harries. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
Address Changes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
Contact Us. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20

Passing on the KIT Newsletter Editorship

by Susanna Alves
Dear Readers,
Sadly, it has become rather pressing that I withdraw from the job of KIT Newsletter Editor which I took on in
February of 2014. The reasons are personal and private, but based mainly on health issues.
It would be tremendous if someone from among the readership volunteered to take on the editing job. I promise
that it is highly interesting. Each submission contains surprises, just as the personalities behind the articles are
diverse and dissimilar, despite the similarities of a Bruderhof upbringing and conditioning for most of us.

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Vol. XXVII No. 2 April 2015

The KIT Newsletter needs written contributions; its survival depends on you and your goodwill! It would
therefore be particularly welcome, in my opinion, if you sent in stories to the new Editor about your first
experiences after you departed from the Bruderhof, or about anything else that occurs to you in that connection or
somehow connects with that Community.
Please Keep In Touch and keep the Newsletter alive and pulsing!
I wish everybody all the best.

Seeking a New Editor

by Raphael Vowles
Thank you Susanna for your efforts as Editor these last many KIT Newsletters, and a job well done. I join the
Newsletter Production Team in wishing you all the best for the future.
The Team is now looking for a Volunteer to take on the crucial Editors role. Is that person YOU? Please contact
any of the Team see last page to consider how you might take on this task.
The essential job requirements are:
C a vision of what the Newsletter might be in the future;
C moderate computer literacy with a willingness to learn;
C people skills to manage and edit copy from contributing authors.
Please circulate this message widely to give us the best chance of finding a replacement. Susanna has kindly
offered to discuss details of the editorship with you if you decide to volunteer. Why not contact her directly by
email: susanna_alves@yahoo.co.uk
Linda Jackson will act temporarily, pending the appointment of the new Editor.
Could YOU be the next Editor? Do let us know. It is a rewarding job, helping us all to Keep In Touch.

Observations on the Bruderhof and KIT

by Charlie Lamar

The Bruderhof has always owed its appeal to the way it appears to reconcile the two polar opposites of
Western Civilization most deeply in conflict atheistic Communism and Christian religious believership.
Long before the Bruderhof, Karl Marx, along with all his many predecessors and followers had been
driving the liberals of Western Civilization in the direction of atheism but not the liberals of the
Bruderhof, who came off either as mystical socialists, or socialist mystics, take your pick. But the only way
Bruderhofers could enact that dazzling synthesis of the sacred and secular was by turning their backs on
the two most important advances of the Protestant Reformation: the equal standing of individual religious
believers before God, and the primacy of personal spiritual experience over and above group-regulated
faith.
The Hutterite example the Bruderhof was modeled on began at a crucial but very different moment in
history. Hutterite Communism was derived from certain verses in the Bible in which the early Christians
were said to have shared all their goods. Hutterite nonviolence was likewise an attempt to follow an
apostolic restriction also found in the Bible wherein Jesus most dedicated followers were instructed to
disengage from all secular controversies. The Hutterites of the 16th century were a rebuke to the state
churches because they were both socially egalitarian as believers before God and nonviolent before man
in that they refused to be conscripted in the feudal religious wars. Their Communism also amounted to an
egalitarian social gesture because they shared everything.
In the Bruderhof and elsewhere, the Hutterite kind of nonviolence has often been confused with an idea
that motivates many modern conscientious objectors: the idea that force and violence (in and of itself
inherently bad) must be equated. To that way of thinking, the more enlightened human being or society
(...If God is on our side, hell stop the next war! and by the way, who is this god anyway?) will refuse
to contend with a less enlightened human being or society on principle. This idea is a corollary of another
idea also very popular in the 20th century, which is that choice isnt real, and life is inherently meaningless.
That dreadful prospect is embedded in Marxism, of course, which is itself based on the atheistic idea that
energy and matter are all that is real.
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The idea that all contention is inherently bad is what made the Bruderhof possible in the first place, and
then made it meaningless. The Bruderhof took the ideas of refusing to disagree because of the supposed
nobility of non-self-assertion; the idea of sharing all their material goods as a symbol of a shared dedication;
the apostolic restriction on engaging in secular controversy; a conscientious objection to soldiering; the
idea that mortal life is an absolute value, and the idea of their own special importance as a cosmic
intermediary between heaven and earth and boiled them all up together in a seething cauldron that was
glamorous, mysterious and intriguing, but ultimately meaningless. None of its constituent ideas were based
in reality.
The idea that mortal life is of an absolute value is most certainly delusional. If mortal life were of an
absolute value, human beings would never die, and it would be impossible to kill them.
So the amazing Bruderhof reconciliation of the spiritual and the material could only look as though it
were working as long as the members of the Bruderhof were willing to dissemble their personal freedom
of conscience and their equality as believers before God. And dissemble they did. All the intellectual
inconsistencies mystically papered over in the Bruderhof were matters of active and very scrupulous
pretense.
I remember one occasion at Woodcrest when the children were given a special outing which took us to
a Dairy Queen two or three miles from the Community. One of our chaperones approached the service
window bearing solemn religious witness to the fact that we had no money. Then George Burleson pulled
out a wad of cash and bought us all ice-cream cones.
I studied the face of the chaperone, looking for signs of guilt or chagrin but I saw only the expression
of someone trying to do the right thing. If anyone studied my face, they might have recognized the
astonishment of someone who just realized that not a single word his allegedly upright and moral religious
caretakers ever said could necessarily be taken at face value.
But who in the Bruderhof knew what they were doing as they engaged in all this dissembling? I lived
there and I cant tell you. I have no idea who really knew what they were doing, or if anyone actually did.
Its easy to theorize that the plain Brothers were sincere, and fancy ones were not, but I doubt that was
always the case. Im sure their sincerity varied with age, mental acuity, sanity and cultural indoctrination
just as it does everywhere, but the older I get the more Im convinced that the deception intelligent people
can practice on themselves varies directly in proportion to their IQ, if not exponentially so. But thats not
something I thought about when I was there although there was plenty of evidence for it.
By Eberhard Arnolds day the best strains of Protestantism Quakers, for example had long been
socially egalitarian as believers, and raised the standard of personal spiritual experience high over group
regimented faith. But with only one pot of money for the Brothers and Sisters and all their families to live
on, the Bruderhof was forced to re-embrace the idea that a group of true religious believers would all wind
up believing exactly the same things, or, in effect, following the same leader. They made a fetish of it.
Bruderhof decisions all had to be unanimous.
How?
The miraculous unanimity allegedly came about by means of a holy miracle renewed every day in the
Brotherhood. There was no such thing as a minority opinion in the Bruderhof because there didnt have
to be. There was always a recurrent holy miracle of unanimity in the Brotherhood instead. They didnt have
to have voting as the Hutterites do, because if you got in the way of the holy miracle in the Bruderhof, they
just kicked you out. So the Bruderhof replaced personal spiritual experience with yet another brand-name,
off-the-shelf, group-standardized version of truth, and made no allowance for different personal approaches
to life and to God which first make it possible, and then make it absolutely necessary for people to agree
to disagree, as they must if they are each to discover truth for themselves. In other words, the Bruderhof
turned the clock back on every bit of the actual and potential enlightenment in the Protestant Reformation.
With one pot of money, one standardized religion for the whole group, no diversity of opinion and a
built-in secret service which could count on the enthusiastic cooperation of almost everyone there, the
Bruderhof was a far more completely socialistic outfit than China or the Soviet Union could even dream
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of being. A humble, considerate, agreeable person who is willing to compromise with others but who
happens to be involved in a purely socialistic enterprise will never enjoy any personal autonomy at all, not
even in matters of conscience, and he will never get anywhere near a leadership position. All he can do is
bow to the party in power unless and until he escapes from the system.
The leader of a purely socialistic enterprise is caught in exactly the same trap, although his only option
is different. The leader of a socialistic system can only be sure of his freedom as long as he remains in
complete control of the entire enterprise. So what Heini Arnold had to do in order to make sure no one
could ever supplant him as they had almost done in Paraguay, was to produce the most glamorous and
intriguing vessel of religious esotericism he possibly could and then identify that shining vessel with
himself, and himself alone so closely, that being on the Heini-team would be the only way to keep yourself
in the right spirit and avoid getting kicked out. And at doing just that, Heini Arnold most definitely
succeeded.
But where does this fall in the scheme of things? Is this what the world really needs, or only another
entry in a crowded field of primitives who all think they are special; another massive vicarious egotrip on
the part of a thoroughly dominated and deeply deluded chosen few? By all accounts its not what
Eberhard Arnold wanted, but discretionary freedom invested in the hands of a single anointed despot, and
mental and moral, if not physical slavery for everyone else was inherent, automatic and inevitable in what
he set up. And not because of Heini, not because of the Americans, not because of anyone in particular.
Without either Heini or the Americans, somebody else would inevitably have come along and done exactly
the same thing. Why? Because the Bruderhof was even more completely monolithic and totalitarian than
Marxist Communism ever was, and because the holy miracle of unanimity in the Brotherhood was never
ever real.
There is all the difference in the world between laying down your life in a witness to values, and
tolerantly submitting to evil, but the two are often confused. The good kind of nonviolence requires the
most extreme self-assertion. Whether someones efforts amount to the good kind of nonviolence or not
depends on the values the individual is responding to. Some people devote themselves to collectivism as
an expression of caring to the extent that they try to avoid all disagreement on principle. But there can be
no meaning to the life of anyone who always assents and never disagrees. A situation which someone like
that is involved in will tend to deteriorate, if only because his own participation in the situation is
meaningless entirely apart from anything else. All his good intentions will only work against him.
The upshot of all this mystification the Bruderhof engages in is that no Bruderhofer ever can actually
think in a philosophic sense, unless and until he is thinking of leaving. Even so, Bruderhofers still think
in the sense that they can plot courses of action appropriate to their unspiritual lights, and calculate the
near-term psychological and material outcomes very accurately. And to that end they have more than
enough money to purchase the best legal advice.
As time passed and the Bruderhof movement deteriorated, it has tried to renew its cachet by ever more
audacious apparent reconciliations of the secular left with traditional religious believership in its bizarre
choice of iconic outside heroes, having become a champion of Mumia Abu-Jamal, and even gangsters
all the while its supposedly Anabaptist leaders hobnob with Catholic prelates, and even (allegedly) the
Pope.
That said, life is always reborn.
Back when one of the Borgia Popes was so egregious as to father a child whose paternal and maternal
grandparents were the same two individuals, most Catholics were only innocently along for the Roman
ride, having been born to it, and not necessarily anything like their leader. I suppose it might be somewhat
the same for some of the more naive people currently born-Bruderhof.
How and when individual Bruderhofers found out they would have to compromise their consciences
or pay a very high price had to have been a different story each time, but it must have been a conscious
process to some extent, at least for the prospective members who joined from outside, because of the way
they were hazed in the process of joining at least at Woodcrest. Most of those who joined having grown
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up there did have to know that dissent could bring about their exile from all they knew and loved, but I
dont think they necessarily realized that joining the Brotherhood would mean moral compromise even
though the Bruderhof was always an all-or-nothing trap that forced people to make compromises.
Ramon Sender was at Woodcrest at the same time I was there as a boy, and he published something
about this problem from an adult, born-outside-the-Bruderhof perspective in a KIT Newsletter in 1994:
*
11/29/94: I believe that in connection with some recent testimony from a seeking Christian
brother (and Bhof graduate.) I have been able to put my finger on the corruption at the heart
of the Bruderhof. What is it? It involves the vow taken at Baptism always to speak out if one
sees that the Church is moving in the wrong direction. The irony is, if one speaks out, one is
slammed into church discipline and THEN the truth comes out. And what is the truth? That
the REAL baptism is not the baptism by water upon confession, but a baptism by the fire of
church discipline, i.e. by the new members willingness to surrender to church discipline
whether applied correctly or not. You must be willing to be crucified by the Servants for the
sake of your brothers sins, the rationale being that, since we are all sinners anyway in the eyes
of God, what does it matter if it was this particular brother in question that erred or not?
The tragedy is that what dies in this crucifixion is the voice of the individual conscience
and truth. What emerges from the surrender to the will of the leadership (Whether I am
actually guilty or not, I am guilty because we are all guilty and I must submit to the Servants
superior vision.) is a hollowed-out husk of a person, completely malleable by the leadership.
The Bruderhof leadership is very skilled at helping the new brother through the baptism by
water upon confession of his sins. They are equally adept at manipulating the brother through
church discipline and the baptism by fire whereby the individual conscience is forced into
a posture of total surrender. But they are equally skilled at making sure that the new brother
never receives the baptism of the Holy Spirit but remains forever a worm, forever out of direct
touch with God, constantly reminded of this fact and open to being manipulated at the whims
of the hierarchy. It sounds horrible and the truth of the situation is that it is horrible. It has
been extremely interesting to hear this brother tell his story, because he is very clear-sighted,
and sees exactly how, step by step, he was led towards the Servants goal of denouncing the
voice of God in his own conscience (my words). He also pointed out, however, that this
baptism by fire process is not completely conscious on the part of the leadership. It is more
like, Now its your turn to experience what I experienced when I was out. It parallels the
initiation rituals practiced in boys schools or fraternities. But in terms of the teachings of
Christ, it is an abomination and sadistic heresy.
The heresy that one must allow church authorities to crucify oneself in order to faithfully
follow Christs example can be refuted by Scripture, and here I quote from a more
knowledgeable friend:
Accepting false accusation in imitation of Christ is easy to rebut. Christ never agreed with
the accusers that he was guilty of the false charges they made. He said to Pilate ...therefor he
who betrayed me to you hath the greater sin... implying that the false charges were sinful.
Jesus said the devil is a liar and the father of lies, implying that untruth is of the devil... He said
I am the way, the truth and the life... implying that what is not of the truth is not from Him...
He defended himself vigorously against the charges of the Pharisees and Saducees. Jesus
suffered for the sins of the world but not in order that religious authorities could inflict
suffering on others... that is a diabolical twisting of the Christian doctrine. Jesus very certainly
said, Inasmuch as you did it (i.e. anything) to one of the least of these my brethren, you did
it unto me. If the Bruderhof authorities want to claim the right to make false accusations in
the name of Jesus for the sake of His humility, then there is no further arguing with them...
They havent a leg to stand on according to Scripture... One could go on and on. There is also
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For freedom Christ has set you free. He did not die for you so that you can be enslaved by
religious authorities.
*
When ejected ex-Bruderhofers begin their new lives outside, they inevitably confront the issue of
whether to replace the Bruderhof with something else or to create a facsimile Bruderhof to keep on living
in Bruderhof-wise as much as they can. But since you cannot replace something you arent even aware of,
the issue resolves itself naturally. Ex-Bruderhofers never replace the parts of their Bruderhof mindset they
arent consciously aware of enough to evaluate, and then perhaps want to change.
Those who joined as adults from outside had all evaluated the Bruderhof from outside of it at one point,
and then, upon reflection, decided on joining because they thought it embodied an ideal. So if they were
ejected, they could reevaluate the mental steps they took when they joined in the light of what happened
after they did. Those who came to the Bruderhof as partly grown children also had something preBruderhof they could look back on and compare and contrast. But none of this is true of sabras. And here
I should say that I only know about the 1940's, 1950's and 1960's cohort of Bruderhof sabras.
The 1940's, 1950's and 1960's cohort of sabras were brought up without any way to validate their
personal perceptions of right and wrong except via an archetypal group which in and of themselves they
could not replace. And thats just one way the exposure of born-in-the-Bruderhof children to their parents
communal religion showed itself deadly. So how do the differences between sabra ex-Bruderhofers and
born outside ex-Bruderhofers actually play out?
A picture is worth a thousand words.
If you look at pictures of young people from anywhere all over the world you see lovely spirited pictures,
and when you look at pictures of Bruderhof young people from the 1940's, 1950's and 1960's, you see
pictures of young people at least as beautiful and spirited, if not more so, than any pictures of young people
you ever saw anywhere else. But there was a catch for the beautiful Bruderhof youngsters. These beautiful
children had to be that beautiful, that spiritual, that stunningly elite. Their parents were supposed to be the
spiritual aristocracy of the planet, and these beautiful children were allegedly the proof. So these royal
children, like all royals, were trapped in their royalty, and they had to be very careful about all that they did.
They were expected to grow up as committed to the Bruderhof cause as holy martyrs would be, so there
was no ordinary humanity these youngsters could choose. They couldnt be human the way people outside
the Community are human and still look themselves in the mirror, because the world outside the Bruderhof
was a putative cesspool of unredeemed evil, just as the world outside the Garden of Eden was for Adam
and Eve in some interpretations of the story. So there was nowhere for these children to go between their
splendid spiritual royalty and the outer darkness. But these Bruderhof youngsters all knew a secret.
Although they may not have consciously known that they knew it, they did know, and the only way to
survive in the Bruderhof was never to tell.
Their secret was they were human.
The tribe these Bruderhof youngsters belonged to both ritually and factually since birth did not have a
stable traditional culture which had evolved over time. It had an intellectually derived, hence artificial one,
very prone to cataclysmic changes, and its operational dynamics resembled those of 15th century England,
the late Roman Empire or the Soviet Union. So just like the late Roman Empire or the Soviet Union, the
Bruderhof was periodically convulsed by purges of exile caused by power struggles within its holy
leadership. So much like Ann Boleyn, these beautiful children knew that an adverse decision could be
made about their places in the beautiful Garden at any moment.
The decision would be highly political. You couldnt defend yourself. You wouldnt know what to say.
Nor was there any safety in refusing to discuss your status or the status of anyone else if called on to do so,
lest you become an outcast for refusing to help. So each of the radiantly happy children in the old
Bruderhof photographs, at least the intelligent ones, knew at the moment the shutter was snapped that any
exposure of their humanity could lead to disaster, and it could be swift. For if anyone deserved Ausschluss,
they all did simply for being human.
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The children werent brought up to make up their own minds like stubborn little Anabaptist goats, but
to follow along in childlike fashion like good little Catholic sheep who, once they had proven themselves
reliably conformist, could be safely promoted to shepherd. They were brought up believing that there were
no shadows, no gradations, no grey areas in life, only the light, and the outer darkness: Right spirit
up; wrong spirit down. Right spirit on; wrong spirit off. Right spirit in; wrong spirit out.
Right spirit thrilling dynamic brotherhood; wrong spirit an ostracism from the holy tribe so complete
that it amounted to cultural, social, emotional, familial, sexual and of course spiritual blackmail. And
although they were all expected to know exactly what the accepted tribal right and wrong was at all times
so as to keep in the right spirit, all Bruderhof children knew that ordinary individuals played no role
whatsoever in deciding what the accepted tribal right and wrong was to be except in very extreme
circumstances. That was the job of the Servants who ran the whole group.
How many Bruderhof children ever grew up wholly unpressured, with an Anabaptist privilege to make
their minds up freely about the Bruderhof once they became adults? Not many. The pressures they were
under to excel were a lot like the pressures in traditional aristocratic families or the very wealthy, except
that the social controls werent operated by their own parents, but by the Bruderhof Servants who ran the
tribunals of ritual sexual purity, etc. So with the default limits to their moral horizons preset at the office
of a Servant of the Word in control of a Brotherhood, how many sabra ex-Bruderhofers were likely to go
on to confront on a gut level the question of whether their childhood belief in a standardized version
of righteousness for everyone in a group, that everyone in the right spirit had a bounden duty to enforce,
was actually legitimate or even possible?
The sabra children in the massive cohort of 1950's and 1960's Bruderhof ejects were all well aware of
the controversies that wracked their Communities at the time, so they knew that different points of view
about right and wrong were possible, and indeed actually existed. But that isnt to say that they had any
way of knowing that credible or holy alternatives to the Bruderhof itself which could legitimately validate
such alternative concepts of right and wrong or truth and falsehood were also possible as well.
Ex-Bruderhof sabras may think that they want to destroy anything that resembles the terrible
brotherhoods of exclusion they remember and dread, but when they get together, thats all they eventually
create. At the KIT weekend festivals of ethnic tribal celebration, what the people attending can and
cannot do, even what they can and cannot wear while they are there has become a matter of who it might
please or offend rather than anything principled or objective.
That wasnt always the case. I remember the first time the issue of what you could wear at a KIT
Conference came up. For the record, it was when Elizabeth Bohlken Zumpe and Miriam Arnold Holmes
got their pictures taken prancing around with Kopftuchs on. Where are those photos now, by the way? I
think they belong with the Colin Sharp photos in Raphaels flickr archive.
In any case, while ex-Bruderhofers may pine for an air castle Garden of Eden brotherhood such as they
fondly remember under a fragrant lapacho in Isla Margarita, abstract principles like freedom of expression
which could set them free in a better garden have no more place in their air castle brotherhoods than they
did in the Bruderhof although personalities (my sandpit buddies who could but have so far not yet
thrown me in the shit of humanity !) still very much do.
Sabra ex-Bruderhofers still retain the vestiges of a deeply internalized belief which might well be called
racist that they come from a holy society which must be kept ritually and biologically separate from the
rest of humanity. And in this holy society there was never any way to deal with disagreements about right
and wrong, or anything else except as meaningless personality conflicts to be smoothed over in ritual
accommodations to group unity, lest they bring about yet another spate of spiritual ethnic cleansing. The
Bruderhof argot you sometimes still hear wherein matters of conflict are supposedly resolved or cleared
only means that the problems have been smoothed over and dropped. And even atheist ex-Bruderhofers
can unknowingly fulfill the office of priests whose relationships with each other are ritually sacramental.
In a raw experiential sense, the sabra children in the 1940's, 1950's and 1960's cohort of Bruderhof ejects
were more Bruderhof than anyone else at the time. They knew (and still know) the Bruderhof from the
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inside out. But many of those now active in KIT seem to be among the last to comprehend the Bruderhof
analytically or intellectually because they dont have any perspective on the Bruderhof from the outside
in, nor do they have any way to gain such a perspective unless and until they investigate themselves
analytically, in other words from the inside out. That isnt easy for anyone, least of all for them, because
they embody all the Bruderhof contradictions personally. And the most crucial contradiction for any child
in the Bruderhof, especially those born there, is the mother of all Bruderhof contradictions: the
contradiction between love, and the love that cuts like a knife.
We all know that Bruderhof children didnt really belong to their parents. They belonged to their
parents holy tribe which was supposedly a lot more important than they were. The childrens connection
to their parents was shaped, not only by how well their parents taught them what was expected, but by how
well their parents protected them from Bruderhof danger, and how much their parents knowingly or
unknowingly exposed them to Bruderhof tyranny. One way Bruderhof parents could protect their children
was by concealing their humanity. Another way was to speak up on their behalf. But the parents ability
to do these things very much depended on their position within the tribe.
At the beginning of every child-parent relationship, the children most certainly do love their parents, but
they dont love them unconditionally. They cant. Unconditional love only becomes possible later in life.
At first, children love their parents helplessly and desperately, albeit with very charming enthusiasm and
many other helpful assists given them by Mother Nature.
Of course at the beginning of the child-parent relationship the parents hopefully do love their children
unconditionally, but for parents in the Bruderhof that wasnt supposed to be the case. The parents had all
sworn to love the Bruderhof more than they loved their children. Nor was it as though they had sworn to
love God more than their children. They had sworn to love the Bruderhof more than either their spouse or
their children. As a result, all personal relationships in the Bruderhof, even the biologic ones, were only
ritual facsimiles of what real human relationships, un-conflicted by shadow, can be.
Ex-Bruderhofers are all likely to have reservoirs of fear about betrayal and issues with trust and selfrespect because something they believed in at one point, turned out to be evil. But at the heart of the terror
sabra ex-Bruderhofers can face is a far deeper fear, and this fear has a wicked double edge to it. On the one
hand, because the Bruderhof turned out to be evil, the sabras original childhood love for their parents
might also turn out to be a love for something evil, or worse yet, meaningless. On the other hand, it may
be that it is they who were indeed evil, and their parents, if they were still loyal to the Bruderhof, were
good, just as the Bruderhof alleged.
When a conflict like that remains unresolved, there will be hell to pay until it is. So ex-Bruderhofers
adjust in many different, more or less effective ways. Some, in a rictus of denial; some by putting both the
Bruderhof and their parents in perspective as human failures to one degree or another; some by trying to
create a quasi-Bruderhof to be comfortable in (often as Servants of the Word); some point fingers; some
pine with nostalgia; some sniff the corks of all the empty Bruderhof wine bottles they find, exclaiming,
Oh, what a vintage year that was! Some take a long unblinking look.
Many of the ex-Bruderhofers still involved in whats left of Ramon Senders Keep In Touch exBruderhof network which he instigated in the late 1980's the weekend conferences, the KIT Newsletter,
the Hummer electronic bulletin board seem not to have come to terms with the idea that although the way
they were connected with each other in the Bruderhof was very deeply felt and real, it was also very highly
compromised from the get-go. Many of them appear to be terminally uncomfortable with anyone who
doesnt share the belief that the way they were connected to each other in the Bruderhof was by an unconflicted spiritual love, and they only remain friends with those who honor an implicit and unspoken pact
to conceal their mutual humanity left over from you-know-where.
So to that extent KIT has been almost as big a failure as the Bruderhof, in my opinion. Nevertheless, my
continued interest consists in the hope of making it a more instructive one.

KIT The Keep In Touch Newsletter

Vol. XXVII No. 2 April 2015

The Banana Bull

by William Bridgwater
We are in the late fifties. I had returned to Primavera from a logging camp on the Curuguaty River for
treatment of an injury. My companion Daniel Meier stayed on.
The Curuguaty is a tributary to the Jeju River which feeds into the Paraguay River.
We were hauling logs from the jungle to the river where they were turned into rafts using empty 200 litre
petrol barrels for flotation.
The rafts were floated down the Jeju to the Paraguay River to be loaded onto vessels for export.
I stayed in Primavera working with Josua Dreher in the cow stall and lending a hand on the cattle ranch
when required.
One day Harry Barron told Hans Zimmermann and me that a bull was creating havoc in his beloved
banana plantation at the far end of the Orangewood in Isla Margarita.
We offered to take a look, and a few days later we went off to try to catch the beast. We succeeded in
lassoing it, but before we could tie it up, the lasso caught a tree stump and snapped. The bull, now furious,
took off into the woods, a long piece of the lasso still attached.
We knew wed have to finish the job, but needed reinforcement. At the time, George Mercoucheff with
his wife and sweet little daughter Olga were staying at the Hof.
George, with lots of experience from years on various ranches, was the ideal companion. He gladly
agreed to join the party.
Off we went. Once located and cornered, the bull attacked and pushed Georges mare up against a fence.
Luckily, George had managed to dismount. The horse sustained no serious damage but obviously did not
like the treatment..
We were able to distract and catch the bull and tie him to a tree. The plan was to bring one of our trained
oxen, a collejero, tie him to the bull and let him lead him back home.
However, before leaving, George, who was still upset with what the bull had done to his horse, went to
say a few parting words. We dont know what he said or did, but the bull dropped down stone dead and
had to be butchered on the spot.
When late that afternoon we arrived at the Hof with a cargo of fresh meat, Harry was happy, whilst
others scolded us for having killed the prime bull of the herd. Pure Bullshit, or, as the saying goes: Undank
ist der Welten Lohn.

Announcing OUR PRIMAVERA PHOTOS on flickr

by Raphael Vowles
I am pleased to announce the arrival of a public photo archive on the flickr website. These are the pictures
discussed over the years variously as Constantins Photos, Renatus Klvers CD 2007, and Ben
Cavannas Collection.
Thank you to Ben Cavanna, Renatus Klver, Linda Jackson and Adolf Wegner for your efforts at
making these pictures available. A remarkable collection!
So readers, if YOU have sets of photographs that you wish to have incorporated on this website for
posterity, please contact me with details on raphaelvowles@yahoo.co.uk or anyone else of the Volunteers
who produce the KIT Newsletter see names and addresses on the last page, under Contact Us. Any
help identifying people, places and dates will be appreciated.
Here is the public photo archive:
Go to https://www.flickr.com/KITexBruderhofCCI/ , then click the ALBUMS tab.
To view a short Help Video on HowToUse the flickr site, see and click on the COPYRIGHT
album. Enjoy!

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Vol. XXVII No. 2 April 2015

REMINDERS:
This is a reminder for the Bulstrode Gathering. Please make a note in your diaries!
Date: Saturday, April 25th, 2015
To all ex-Bruderhofers and friends by Andy Harries
I have been able to once again book the room at Bulstrode Manor which we had last year and a few times before.
It is available from 11:00am to 5:00pm.
WEC International have kindly allowed us the use
of the diningroom at the back, with access to hot water
so we can prepare our own drinks. We will bring the
basics: milk, sugar, tea, coffee and juice. We
recommend bringing some food along, which we
usually share. As we did last time, we can sit outside
on the veranda with free access to the lovely Bulstrode
Park and grounds. No smoking indoors, please, no
alcohol, and do not leave litter anywhere.
We will have a collection for a voluntary
contribution for WEC, as a thank you for their
kindness of allowing us once again the use of their
room and grounds.
They have asked me to put out a sheet of paper at
Bulstrode Manor
reception for everybody to sign on arrival. This is a
legal requirement, in case of fire. If you enter through the main front door, reception will be on the right. Before
that, also on the right, are the toilets.
Please pass this information on to anybody who might not hear or read about it.

FRIENDLY CROSSWAYS REUNION Friday, August 21, through Sunday, August 23, 2015
At Friendly Crossways Retreat Center Harvard, MA (near Boston)
Weekend cost per person, including food, is $120 for dorms/camping, limited semi-private rooms available for
$150/person. Deposits of $80/person are due by May 31.
There will be lots of time to share our lives, both past and present, as well as cook, eat, hike, sing, and play
together. The get-together is very informal and relaxed. For additional information contact:
Maeve Whitty maevepwhitty@yahoo.com 617-230-3219
Al Hinkey alhinkey@gmail.com 215-848-7034
1901 JOHN F KENNEDY BLVD, PHILADELPHIA, PA 19103
Sven Maas svenmmaas@gmail.com 570-994-0735
Please make checks payable to Allen Hinkey and mail to above address. You can pay by credit card through
PayPal. Go to www.paypal.com and click on send money. Enter my email address and click on friends and
family, not goods or services. You will be directed to set up a PayPal account if you do not have one. You will
need to enter your email address and pick a password. It is fast and easy.
For additional information, give one of us a call.

An Invitation
by Andy Harries
Two of us are planning to do some walking up Titterstone and The Beechwood, and another day up Brown
Burf (Clee) Hill at Wheathill this summer in early July. I am not sure of the exact dates yet. If anybody
would like to join us or find out more, let me know. You will need to be a reasonably fit walker.
Tel: 01264 353800 Email: andyharries@onetel.com

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Balthasar (Balz) Trmpi 4th December, 1914 9th March, 2015

by Elisabeth Bohlken Zumpe
In 1935, Balz a young Swiss teacher arrived for a visit in Liechtenstein, his violin tucked under his arm.
He was walking along towards Silum when he saw a pretty girl picking flowers in a meadow. He stared,
thinking: This is who my future wife ought to be! It was seventeen-year-old Monika, daughter of Eberhard
Arnold.
Balz was impressed by the community life and had many good discussions with Eberhard, who died that
same year. When Eberhards casket arrived at the Rhn Bruderhof and the sobbing Monika laid her hands
on it, Balz placed his hand on hers and, as he said, never let go again.
Balz and Monika used to take me along for walks through the alpine meadows when I was a toddler.
One of my first memories is of a lovely warm day; they were lying in the soft grass, me seated on Balzs
tummy trying to put Gentians into the buttonhole of his jacket.
He was a teacher with heart and
soul. When we arrived in Isla
Margarita, Primavera, in May 1941,
there was no school. We children
had to help with the small ones, help
feed them, help in the kitchen and
with thatching roofs. That meant we
stood in a mud-pit; the adults handed
us bushels of straw, we dipped the
cut end in the mud and Brothers then
threw the bunches up to the roof for
thatching.
But Balz declared that all children
had a right to be schooled. So with
the older boys Ullu and Peter
Keiderling, Walla von Hollander,
Christoph Boller and Christoph
Mathis, Jakob Gneiting and others
he cleared two forested areas, one
for a kindergarten, the other for a
Monika and Balz Trmpi with their Children, Primavera, ca. 1947
school. We six- and seven-year-olds
L-R Gabriele on Monikas lap, Emmy, Annemone,
were taken into Balzs strict care
Beate with Balz, and front: Ebbo.
because he felt that we had run
pretty wild. While small ranchos were being built as classrooms no walls, just a roof we sat outside on
logs.
He taught us songs. He danced with us. We learned to write in the sand using twigs, and arithmetic by
repeating the multiplication tables. He taught us fractions using oranges. We had no books; Balz made us
memorize numbers, words, verses and songs. He taught us what to do if we were bitten by a snake, how
to bandage someone hurt by falling from a tree, or stung by wasps. The forests were full of monkeys,
toucans, parrots, flowers and beauty, but also insects, ants, snakes and wild beasts.
The Trmpi family left the Bruderhof in 1960 as a result of changes in the leadership. Monika died on
April 13, 2010 and Balz struggled on bravely, with some of his children living close by.
He turned one-hundred last December. Suffering from painful sores on his feet, hospitalization became
necessary. In January, he was moved to a nursing home where he died peacefully on 9th March. He was
buried on Monday the 16th, next to his wife Monika.
His was a long and interesting life which touched many hearts and minds. I am thankful to have known
him.
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Karen Greenwood
by Margot Purcell
Karen Marie Greenwood passed
away on February 23, 2015 at the
age of fifty-five after an extended
illness. Karen was the wife of Glen
Greenwood, son of Bob and Kathy
Greenwood. Glen and Karen lived in
NY and enjoyed thirty-four years of
marriage. They had one little baby
boy, Joel, who was stillborn. They
adopted two boys, Eric and Mark,
who brought much joy to their lives
and made her a proud mother.
Just one year ago she was helping
to plan Mark and Katrinas wedding
and was honored to make Katrinas
Karen, Mark, Glen and Eric
wedding dress. A lovely, intimate
Family photo taken in 2013
ceremony was held at their home
with both families in attendance.
Glen tells me that Karen enjoyed the early days of KIT and getting to know all the strange characters like
Me and why we are the way we are. I was very lucky to have her as my wife. Beth, his sister, said, She
loved to quilt. She did a wonderful job of raising her two adopted boys. She was a cheerful positive person,
despite huge health problems.
Karen was employed as a medical receptionist at Bassett Medical Center in Cooperstown. She enjoyed
being a volunteer as a teaching assistant at Mount Markham Central School, helping young students to
learn how to read. She will be remembered as a loving, caring and helpful person. She had such a beautiful
smile that many remember her by. She loved her family and was always there for them in good times or
bad. She will be missed by her family, her two brothers and their wives, many nephews and nieces, as well
as many friends.
If you would like to send a greeting to Glen, his address is 180 Stone Road, West Winfield, NY 13491.

Remembering Margaret
by Elisabeth Bohlken Zumpe
I remember Margaret well as a brave little girl along with her
cousin Elizabeth when there was a polio epidemic in Wheathill.
Those were really difficult times, but the two little girls were
amazing. They were very sure they were held in the hands of
Jesus while their mothers and family members didnt know how
to divide themselves between the sick children in hospital with
a lighter form of polio, the rest of their families at home, and the
Brotherhood who wanted to help but realized they were
helpless. All this is hard to imagine today, but the distances were
great, and our transportation capacity, poor, to say the least.
As I remember, it was Ursel Lacey who stood out as a strong
person for everyone. She was knowledgeable, but also serene and
lovable, and she spread peace around her which was helpful to
everyone as a foothold. She did all in her power as a Bruderhof
12

Circa 1960-1961: Back L-R: Prisca, Margaret,

Audrey-Ann, Thomas, Peter.
Front L-R: Sidney and Mary (Jefferies family)

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Vol. XXVII No. 2 April 2015

nurse to let the children know that we were with them in the hospital, even though it was physically
impossible for us to see them daily.
I have warm memories of Margaret as a child, of Margaret as a young girl and as an adult and mother
when I met her again at the Friendly Croosroads KIT Gathering in 1991.
Our memories will keep her just as alive as the twinkle she had in her eyes all her life. She was special
and will be missed. But I am sure that she is where she believed she would be with her husband, her baby
son and her parents. It is so special and wonderful that her two daughters were able to nurse her and be
with her through this time.

My Memories of Margaret
by Catherine (Jefferies) Rendle
Margaret Rachel Adlington was born to Thomas and Audrey Ann Jefferies on 8th February, 1947. Mummy
told me that the winter was particularly harsh up in the Clee Hills of Shropshire, as indeed it was
throughout the country and was remembered as such. I
believe the birth was difficult and it was very difficult to get
Dr. Hodges, our local General Practitioner, or midwifery
services through. However, Margaret was born safely. I
have no further details than those above.
Margaret was thirteen months younger than myself. I
was born on January 1st, 1946. As sisters, we played
happily together and welcomed four other additions to our
family.
In 1953, Margaret, Prisca and Peter Jefferies, Elizabeth
Johnson, Derek Wardle, David, Paul and some others
contracted Polio which, at that time, was not preventable
due to not having a vaccination developed. They were at
the local Copthorne and Oswestry Hospitals.
Margaret was a fairly quiet, thoughtful child, I believe,
enjoying family, kindergarten and later school life. Unlike
me, I dont remember any rebellious streak. She was very
loyal to me. I remember a time when she retrieved
something for me that I
had dropped whilst
Margaret Rachel Adlington
swinging, and her head
Photograph taken by Margot Purcell at the
got hit by the swing for
Friendly Crossways Gathering in 1991
the effort.
In the Bruderhof Community we were separated by being different
age groups at kindergarten and school, so didnt see much of each
other during weekdays. In the evenings we had to be in bed before our
parents went to communal supper followed by meetings. There was
always an evening watch assigned, some of whom were stricter than
others, to keep an eye on the children left at home. I can remember that
after lights out when we were small, this was a paraffin lamp or
candle we would beg her to tell us stories. She was always very good
at this and also obliging.
As a family, I believe we had some very happy times. Mummy was
very good with us and we were willing sponges for reading all the
books she would recommend. She had high values in manners and also
deportment getting us girls to walk tall with books on our heads.
Margaret Adlington, 2014
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As is, my rebellious streak took me out of my family. After spending months with Klaus and Heidi
Barths little family, and then some months in 1960 in a Bruderhof in Germany, I went to stay in
Huddersfield with my uncle Tom and his wife. He was my mothers brother, and a Methodist Minister.
When I returned to my family in around 1962, my parents had left the Community and were living in
a small farm cottage on an agricultural college near Lincoln. Life was very hard, particularly for my parents.
Dad worked with farm machinery by day whilst taking evening classes at night to better his position,
eventually becoming a lecturer at Reaseheath Agricultural College, near Nantwich, Cheshire. Mother
returned to teaching.
Money was very tight. My mother had
enjoyed a fairly privileged childhood so that
cooking and washing etc for a large family was
a challenge which she nevertheless accepted
successfully, although the strain of it caused her
embarrassment shortage of money and her
first prolapsed disc.
Margaret attended the local high school,
achieving her GCE. She also worked some
evenings and weekends as a mothers help to a
very nice family. She seemed to fit in well to life
outside the Bruderhof and at eighteen enrolled
Margaret and Elizabeth Simons, 2014
as a student nurse at Kings College Hospital in
London. Joy Johnson was there too at that time,
and introduced her to Peter Adlington, a registrar in ENT, at the same hospital. They went on to marry and
moved to Poole in Dorset were he gained a post as Consultant. From then on she went on to have three
children, Tony, Abigail and Rebecca.
Tony was only given to them for a few short weeks, dying from cot death. This was devastating for Peter
and Margaret. They sought comfort and support from Peters close friend and army chaplain. I remember
when I heard this terrible news; I had rung home, full of joy having been successful in my interview to
become a ward sister there was a silence and Mummy passed on the sad news. I was devastated,
especially as my exuberance was dashed. We were all deeply affected.
My children from my first
marriage Tim and Theresa were
around the same age as Abigail and
Rebecca. We spent many holidays at
their home in Poole and later in
Horton Hollow near Wimborne.
Margaret was like a second mother
to my children, as around 1976, my
marriage broke up, and after a short
period with my parents in Darvell
Community, Robertsbridge, we
bought a house in Hastings, East
Sussex.
At Margaret and Peters old family home in Dorset, 2006.
As I couldnt return to nursing
L-R Ben, Margaret, Peter, Rosie Sumner-Johnson and Dan
with a very young family, I hosted
language students who came to study English at local language schools.
During this time we were quite poor and I suffered my first prolapsed disc. Margaret invited my children
and my brother Peter drove them down whilst I was in hospital. We also spent a couple of Christmases with
her family. Favourite visits were to the New Forest and the Isle of White.
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After Abigail and Rebecca left home to do their training and follow their own professions, Peter and
Margaret enjoyed a happy retirement. They had a flat in London, so could easily commute and enjoy
Londons social life and visit their children.
Abigail married Richard, and Luke was born to them while they had their flat in Kensington. Margaret
visited them frequently, staying at her flat and helping with Grandma delights of babysitting and taking
Luke out. I remember accompanying her on one such visit. Margaret delighted in all her grandchildren and
was able to pass on her own experiences, her wealth of songs and games often remembered from our own
childhood, and garlands for birthdays even the birthday stick and posies for the boys. She was a very
well loved grandmother to Luke, Peter, Lydia and Mary.
Her daughter and Richard moved to Wootton-St. Lawrence, Hampshire, and Peter and Margaret soon
followed, selling their lovely home in Dorset. They soon settled down in their new village and Church,
where they made many friends and
Margaret became Church Warden.
Their life was enriched by having
their daughter and grandchildren
living a short distance away, being a
village their children often walked
and cycled to visit their grandpa and
grandma to enjoy all the delights
provided. Margaret was able to help
with babysitting, school runs and
other activities a growing family was
engaged in.
Her husband Peter, around fifteen
years her senior, started to suffer an
Alzheimers type illness, probably
before their move to Basingstoke.
At Jefferies Siblings Get-Together at Priscas house, 2014:
This deteriorated gradually and was
Back
L-R
Celia (Sidneys wife), Colin (Catherines husband), Mary, Sidney,
diagnosed as Picks Disease.
Prisca and Judith (Peters wife); Front L-R Catherine, Peter Hall (Priscas
Margaret supported him very
husband), Margaret and Peter
lovingly at home, encouraging as
much independence as possible. He doted on her, and his children and grandchildren were a constant
delight. They all loved to be involved in Grandpas care.

Margaret Adlington remembered

by Joy MacDonald
We have just spent a day with many family and friends of Margaret, daughter of Thomas and Audrey Ann
Jefferies. For Bob and me, our first stop was to collect daughter Fiona, then to Basingstoke railway station
to collect Carol (Beels) Beck before a short countryside drive to the little village of Wootton-St. Lawrence
and its quintessential small medieval St. Lawrence church for Margarets Thanksgiving Service.
Margarets eldest daughter, Abigail, who lives with her husband and four school age children in the
village just a short walk away from Margarets home, read a lovely life story that she and her younger
sister Rebecca had written as a tribute to their mother and also their father Peter, who died three years ago.
Margarets childhood years were spent at Wheathill, where her love of nature and music and children
and Jesus encompassed her wish to become a nurse and move to the Primavera hospital in Paraguay.
Abigail then moved on to read about Margaret meeting her future husband, Peter, an E.N.T. Consultant
Physician, while she was a student nurse. She continued by describing the years following their marriage
which were spent in Dorset bringing up their children. She then spoke of Margarets gradually deepening
religious life and beliefs.
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After the service, her family and friends gathered round the grave where both Peter and Margaret had
been laid to rest and sang songs which had meant so much to Margaret and to those of us who had lived
in the Bruderhof. The songs were: People Look East, Wer Leuchtet uns denn, When He Cometh,
Winter has Gone, For the Golden Corn, God made the shy, the wild ones, Evening Star up Yonder,
and finally the lovely three part round, Goodnight to You All.
The peaceful churchyard was carpeted with drifts of snowdrops, including all around Peter and
Margarets graves. It reminded me that in Wheathill, snowdrops were Margarets special February birthday
flowers, and her birthday garland always featured snowdrops.
We then walked the short distance to her home for a couple of hours, reconnecting with family and
friends, and remembering Margaret.
The weather was better than expected, much sunshine, just a light wind and later just a few flurries of
snow while we were at Peter and Margarets home surrounded by the undulating Hampshire farmland with
its hedgerows and small clumps of trees.

Memories of Margaret
by Andy Harries
I feel so sad that Margaret has gone. Gudrun and I got
to know her well in the last years since she lost her
husband. It just happened that I had planned a visit to
Wheathill for some walking and put out an invite to
anybody who might want to join me. Margaret and
her sister Mary came, as well as John Holland.
Margaret was enthusiastic about seeing Wheathill
again and wanted me to tell her about some of the
places of her childhood when we were there, because
she was quite young when she left and couldnt
remember a lot.
The two sisters wore Wellies because of troubles
At Callow Lane Pond
L-R
John
Holland,
Margaret Adlington and her sister
with their feet, and I was amazed at how they
Mary
managed; first up muddy Callow Lane, where we
stopped at Callow Lane Pond which holds many
memories from our school days; then right up the steep side of Titterstone Hill, which is quite a tough
climb.
We had a picnic lunch at the top with a wonderful
view down to Wheathill Farm. A few others joined;
they had driven round the back of Titterstone to
where one can park near the quarry. The four of us
then carried on across the moor to Cleeton St Mary
and on to the beechwood, with another picnic stop
there, then down the hill through the heather. As
schoolchildren we used to pick heather here, tying it
into small bundles to be sold at the Birmingham
Bullring Market. Then on across fields passing
Silvington, through Love Lane and the Banks fields to
have a look at the Bromdon burial ground, before
walking back through Lower Bromdon and up The
Time for a Picnic: L-R Gudrun Harris, John Holland,
Drive. It was a really good day. People who have
Margaret Adlington, Eunice Lord, Dorothy Ann Ellison
lived at Wheathill will know the places we went to.

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Margaret asked if she could join me on some of my walks near home. She came on two walks, both of
about eleven miles, and she managed very well, although it is quite a distance. I will never forget her
enthusiasm about plants and flowers; she was constantly pointing out flowers and flowering trees. I learned
a lot. She told me how Cecilia Paul used to teach them about flowers at the Wheathill School on nature
walks, and that increased her interest. She also invited us to
visit her and we went for a walk in the countryside near her
home. She had a lovely house and a beautiful garden. We
had tea in the garden with scones and jam and whipped
cream, a very nice, proper English tea.
Margaret also came to visit us, and we went visiting her
at another time. This time, before returning to her place for
tea, we went with her to the Church where Jane Austen
used to go when she was growing up, which is very close
by.
We had one very
The Views of Brown Clee and Callow Lane
interesting experience.
L-R Margaret Adlington, Gudrun Harries, Eunice
We were having tea in
Lord
her garden when
Margaret pointed out two butterflies in an old wheelbarrow, but she
didnt know what species they were, nor did we. They kept their wings
closed all the time and looked all black. She said they had been there
already the day before. We were intrigued and puzzled. Some time
later we noticed that one of them had disappeared but we never saw it
A Red Admiral Butterfly
going; then suddenly the second one flew off and we saw immediately
that it was a Red Admiral, a large brightly coloured butterfly.
She was going to visit us again last year but then became too ill. We will miss her a lot. She was a lovely
person. We will be thinking of all her family in the coming days and weeks.

Treasured Memories
by Carol (Beels) Beck
It feels like I have known Margaret since childhood, but actually we just started getting to know each other
through KIT gatherings and then meeting up, as we both lived in the South of England. We quickly found
we were very at ease together and had lots to share.
We have a family connection through my brother Michael Beels who married Stella Withers some thirtyseven years ago (mother Daisy was sister of Thomas Jefferies, Margarets father). Michael and Stella still
live in the Bruderhof and as far as I know, all their children are inside.
To this day I am touched how Margaret wrote and then phoned me after both my parents died (Francis
and Sylvia Beels), even though she had not known them personally.
When I was going to a singing weekend in Dorset, not far from where the Adlingtons were then living,
Margaret and Peter made me so welcome. The first grandchild, Luke (about one-and-a-half years old) was
staying with them for the weekend, and Margaret was in seventh heaven looking after him. It was a full
moon, and Margaret carried Luke from their lovely garden into the woods beyond. His eyes were shining
and he was awestruck.
When I came down the wooden staircase in the morning, there was a real evergreen Advent garland
hanging from the ceiling, suspended with red ribbons, one of the four red Advent candles silently burning.
It was such a beautiful First Advent surprise. Advent, for most adults and children in the Bruderhof, was
always an especially beautiful experience. Margaret continued all these years to keep the meaning and
beauty of this tradition alive for her family.

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In 2013, again during Advent, I was invited by Margaret to stay; this time near Basingstoke. Again this
fresh evergreen garland with lit candles was hanging in the hall to celebrate Advent and welcome all who
entered.
I happened to have been given a spare copy of the old red Christmas Songbook that we used in the
Bruderhof. I knew how much Margaret loved the songs from our upbringing, so I thought she might like
it. Well, her joy knew no bounds. Even a year later she mentioned it in her last Christmas greeting. She
wrote on 11th December 2014: Just a year since your Advent visit... that precious songbook which so
beautifully set the music for an unexpected Christmas experience. And so it has gone on, one blessing
following another.
Within days of me visiting with Margaret in December 2013, her serious illness had been diagnosed.
Margaret was not even sure at the time if she had more than a few weeks to live. It amazed me that she was
so open and accepting of whatever Gods will (Margarets words) was to be, given that only a week
earlier she had no idea anything was wrong.
A year ago, and then again this year, Margaret had hoped to invite a few ex-Bruderhof members to sing
Christmas songs, but sadly she was not well enough to make it happen. During Advent 2013 Margaret told
me that the family with her children and grandchildren gathered every Sunday evening to sing Christmas
songs and celebrate Advent. How beautiful and meaningful! Margaret had such a genuine, animated belief
in the Christian teachings which she continued to keep alive, sharing what was precious to most of us
growing up in the Bruderhof, such as the festivals, but especially Advent and Christmas. Margaret took
what was true and beautiful from our heritage and made it come alive for the next two generations in her
family.
How very sad and seemingly unnecessary that Margaret (who had such a living Christian faith), her
husband Peter and children and grandchildren, were not able to have the kind of family contact with
Margarets parents Thomas and Audrey Ann once the latter had returned to the Bruderhof, which would
surely have given much joy to all sides.
As my thoughts and feelings keep going back, what I was privileged to experience and learn when being
with Margaret was that she was genuinely living out loving kindness, friendship, compassion,
understanding, not just to family and friends but to people struggling or less fortunate than herself. It was
a privilege to know her and I treasure the times spent together.

Thanksgiving Celebration for Margaret

by Carol (Beels) Beck
I just want to add a few words to what Joy MacDonald has already written.
As we entered the churchyard bathed in sunlight, there on the right was a spread of snowdrops over an area
of about six to seven by two to three meters. While the people were gathering in the Church in preparation,
familiar hymns chosen by Margaret were played beautifully on the organ. I understand Margaret also chose
the readings and songs for the service. It was a joyous occasion in spite of the very real loss.
At the end of the service, within a few yards of the entrance to the Church, about fifteen to twenty
people, mostly extended family and ex-Bruderhof members, gathered to sing, surrounding the grave. On
it were clumps of snowdrops and a vase with yellow little flowers (Anemones?) and more snowdrops.
Three generations from the Jefferies and Johnson families were present. At the end of the singing, one of
the third-generation lively little two- to three-year-old Jefferies, with the help of her mother, placed some
more snowdrops on the grave.
The songs sung had been put together with much care (by Elizabeth) in a booklet with a picture on the
cover of snowdrops in the snow. This gathering was a very lovely part of the goodbye to Margaret. I
understand that, when Margaret asked for the singing of loved songs from our Bruderhof past, she had said
shed be watching and smiling, laughing from above.

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Margarets Thanksgiving Service

by Andy Harries
Gudrun and I attended Margarets thanksgiving service in
the small village where Margaret lived. It was a really nice
day. There were many
people at the service,
which shows how
much she was liked
Snowdrops and Anemones on Margarets Grave
and appreciated. It
made a change that we
ex-Bruderhofers were just a small minority there; most of the people
were from other backgrounds. It really was a celebration of her life. I
especially liked what one of Margarets daughters read out, about her
life from her early childhood days at Wheathill, right through to the
present.
A group of us then stood round her grave as she had requested and
sang some songs. Elisabeth and others had liaised the event with
Margarets daughters and they had printed out the songs Margaret
wished us to sing. Margaret
had said that when we sang
The Church behind the Graveyard
with Margarets Grave
for her she would be in
heaven listening. It was a
really nice experience. I found one of the songs, Evening Star
up Yonder, especially meaningful, with very fitting words and
a beautiful tune.
We then walked the short distance to Margarets house for
refreshments, which again was very nice, with a chance to talk to
many old friends and make some new ones. A most enjoyable
Margarets Bromdon Gate, and the
day.
Countryside behind her House
On the way there I took some photos of the Bromdon Gate.
Margaret had visited Wheathill some time ago with some family
members and had managed to acquire one of the few Bromdon Gates still to
survive. Wheathill meant a lot to her and especially the gate, because her father
was the engineer and was much involved in the designing and manufacturing of
the Bromdon Products: farm gates, bale sledges, cattle crushes and other items.
I took some photos of the gate as we approached, then I walked into the field
to take some more with the light behind me. I noticed people were still coming so
The Bromdon Gate:
took more pictures with them approaching the gate.
A close-up of the Latch
On the way back, I took a few more close-ups of the gate latch; it is of course
the patented latch which made the gate special. Its not easy to see how it works, but if one holds the latch
up, pushes the bolt into the hole in the post and then pushes the latch down, it lifts the gate up slightly to
take the weight off the hinges. That is what the gate was all about. I was one of those who used to deliver
the Bromdon Products all over the country with our lorry.

Change of Address: Julie Barth 4212 East Park Blvd Port Clinton, OH 43452 USA
Email address and phone number remain the same

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Vol. XXVII No. 2 April 2015

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