The Things That Make You Stop & Look Twice At An Amish Auction (15 Photos)

A handwritten breakfast sign at the Jamesport Amish School Auction, with an Amish man standing near a barn in the background — Breakfast sign at the Jamesport, Missouri Amish School Auction. All photos this post by Haley Straw.

Today we’re back with the follow-up to last week’s piece by Haley Straw, “An Amish Department Store Without Walls.” As Haley explains, you never quite know what might catch your eye at an Amish auction.

By the time I’d been to the Jamesport (Missouri) Amish School Auction a few times, I had a better idea of what to expect—or at least I thought I did. By then I knew about the household goods, buggies and carriages, farm equipment, building supplies, food and the enormous crowds.

I had learned that if I wandered around long enough, I was bound to find something interesting. What I hadn’t learned was that sometimes the things that caught my attention most were the things I wasn’t looking for at all.

Amish and English buyers at the windows of a metal booth handing out auction numbers — Amish and English buyers lined up together to get their auction numbers.

The Things That Made Me Stop

Every time I walk through an Amish auction, something catches my attention. It isn’t necessarily something I want to buy. Sometimes I stop simply because I have no idea what I’m looking at.

Two gray vehicle seats with a cup holder console mounted on a black metal cart — If you can’t drive the van, I suppose the next best thing is to take the seats out of it, put them on a trailer, and let a horse pull you around.

I’m sure somebody knew exactly what this was. I was not that somebody. That’s part of the fun of walking through an auction like this. You can pass a hundred things without giving them a second thought, and then suddenly come across something that makes you stop and look a little closer. Sometimes I don’t even need to know what it is. I’m just curious why somebody thought it was worth bringing to the auction in the first place.

The Oddballs

Then there are the things that make you wonder what you’re going to see next.

Large round blue bristle brushes packed into wire cage bins — I have no idea what you would do with a bin full of these enormous blue brushes, but they certainly made me stop.

A dirty white toilet with a lot tag sitting among salvaged materials — Because apparently, if you need a toilet, there was one of those at the auction too.

I found myself looking at things I never would have expected to see at an Amish auction.

A commercial display case sitting in the grass at the auction as an Amish man walks past — Apparently, if you ever need to open a restaurant, they had you covered there too.

And then I came across the machinery.

There were skid loaders, forklifts and other tractors for sale.

An Amish boy driving a red forklift, with yellow forklifts and skid loaders lined up nearby — I watched in horror as this young Amish boy climbed into a forklift and drove it while another boy and I watched. I was not nearly as excited about this as he was.

While I was walking around taking pictures, I noticed two Amish boys, maybe twelve years old, sitting in the forklifts. I was watching them when one of the boys started one of the forklifts and actually drove it. I watched in horror as he maneuvered it around while the other boy and I stood there watching. I don’t know what I expected to see at an Amish auction, but a twelve-year-old boy driving a forklift certainly wasn’t on my list.

The Food Department

A handwritten sign advertising a donation breakfast for the schools the next morning — A handwritten sign advertised breakfast the next morning, with donations going to the schools.

Of course, no all-day auction could expect people to spend hours walking around in the heat without feeding them.

A temporary cafeteria was set up with hamburgers, hot dogs, soup, ice cream and donuts.

A large white tent covered rows of picnic tables where people could sit down for a while.

An Amish woman seated behind a table of individually packaged pies — An Amish woman sat behind a table filled with pies, each one packaged in its own clear container.

And there were people working behind the scenes to keep everyone fed.

Two little girls, probably around ten years old, had the important job of handing people their water or pop.

Two young Amish girls working at a counter lined with bottled drinks — These two little girls had an important job: keeping everybody supplied with something cold to drink.

I liked seeing those two little girls helping in the food tent. There was nothing unusual about them handing somebody a drink, but after spending so much time looking at everything for sale, it was nice to notice some of the people who were helping make the auction work.

There were people cooking and serving food, people selling things, people working the different sections, and plenty of people who had simply come for the day. Everyone seemed to have somewhere to be and something to do, whether that meant buying, selling, working or catching up with friends.

The Little Things

That’s what I began noticing more and more.

A young mother carrying her toddler on her hip.

An Amish woman carrying a toddler across the gravel auction grounds — The auction wasn’t just about buying things. There were families everywhere, too.

A young Amish girl walking barefoot through the food barn.

A girl in a green dress walking barefoot across the concrete floor of the food barn — Apparently, shoes were optional in the food barn.

There were children everywhere, too. I noticed an Amish girl walking barefoot through the food barn, and there were families moving from one tent to another, stopping to look at things, visiting with friends and waiting for the next auction lot.

Some children were helping their parents, some were simply tagging along, and others seemed perfectly content to find their own way to spend the day.

Two Amish men and a young boy standing beside the handwritten food menu outside the food barn — Two Amish men and a little boy stopped to visit outside the food barn.

There was an Amish woman behind the cash register in the food barn, ready to take payment from the next hungry customer.

An Amish woman seated at a cash register in the food barn — An Amish woman works the cash register in the food barn, collecting payment from hungry auction-goers.

None of these things would probably make the list of the auction’s biggest attractions, but after spending so much time looking at everything for sale, I found myself paying more attention to the little things happening around me.

I was still interested in what people had brought to sell, of course, but I was also noticing the people themselves—the things they were doing, the people they were talking to and the little jobs that kept the whole auction moving.

More Than an Auction

The first time I went to the Jamesport auction, I was overwhelmed. I had my number, my list of things I was looking for, and absolutely no idea how I was going to find any of them. There were too many people, too many things, too many auctioneers and too many places to go.

After going back several times over the years, I began to understand something I’d noticed even on that first visit. The auction wasn’t just a place where people came to buy and sell things. It was also a gathering place. I would run into Amish people I knew, see families moving from one section to another, and watch people stop to visit with friends and neighbors they hadn’t seen in a while.

There was plenty of buying and selling going on, of course, but there was also a lot of eating, working, visiting and just spending the day together. Somewhere between the buggies, the food tents, the farm equipment and all the odd things scattered across the fields, an ordinary summer day was taking place.

An Amish couple walking toward parked vehicles at the edge of the auction grounds — An Amish couple heads toward the parking lot after a day at the auction.

I think that’s what I missed the first time. I was so busy trying to figure out what was for sale that I didn’t have much time to notice what was going on around me.

Now, when I walk through the auction with my camera, I still look at the merchandise. I still find things that make me stop and wonder who in the world needs that and what they would even do with it. But I also find myself paying attention to the little things—a child walking barefoot, a mother carrying her toddler, two girls helping in the food tent, a family sitting beneath the green canopy, or someone stopping to talk with an old friend.

Two older Amish men in straw hats talking in a field on the auction grounds — Two Amish men pause to visit while the auction continues around them.

Those aren’t the things listed in the auction catalog, and nobody comes to Jamesport specifically to see them. They’re simply part of the day, easy to miss if you’re concentrating too hard on what’s being bought and sold.

I once thought of the Jamesport auction as a giant department store without walls, and in a way, it really is. There is a little bit of everything spread across those fields. But after all these years, I’ve come to think the departments are only part of the story. The people moving through them are just as much a part of the auction as everything sitting there with a price tag.

Maybe that’s why I still enjoy walking through the fields with my camera, even after seeing the auction more times than I can count. I never know exactly what I’m going to find around the next corner.

Haley Straw is a barefoot homeschooling mom of six who somehow ended up becoming an Amish taxi driver.

From her century-old jailhouse home in rural Missouri, she writes true stories about late-night Amish rides, frolics, disasters, awkward moments, unexpected wisdom, and the kind of community most people don’t realize still exists. Her stories help readers slow down, laugh a little, and remember what matters most.

You can find her signed books, free Amish-inspired goodies, and more at haleystraw.com