How I Became an Amish Taxi Driver: One Unexpected Visit That Changed Everything
Haley Straw returns today with the story of how she first got started driving the Amish. This is the fifth in a series of posts by Haley on what it’s like to be an Amish taxi driver. If you missed any of those, you’ll find links to them at the end of this post.
September 18, 2015, is a day I’ll never forget. It was the day an idea took root that would forever change my life.
After being introduced to the Amish and their stores by my friend Isabel, I’d become a regular customer at their little community dry goods shop.
That warm September day, my three daughters—Hannah, 14, Adeline, 11, and Violet, 3—joined me, along with our neighbor Lucinda and her daughter, for what we thought would be a quick errand.
Lucinda was looking for mineral salt. When the shopkeeper, Sylvia, said she didn’t carry it, she suggested we drive half a mile down the road to “Eddie and Ester’s—the first house on the left.”
Always up for an adventure, we followed the directions down a dirt road filled with ruts and potholes until we came to a plain white farmhouse with outbuildings made of weathered tin.
It didn’t look like a store. Still, Lucinda bravely jumped out and knocked on the door.
A cautious Amish woman peeked out, then stepped onto the porch barefoot and aproned. This was Ester. When Lucinda mentioned Sylvia’s name and mineral salt, Ester’s face softened.
She did have salt—and raw milk, too. We each bought a bag, chatted briefly, and were about to leave when a tall, thin man with a graying beard waved us down.
He came right up to the truck, arms folded in the window. “Hello, my name is Eddie,” he said in a high-pitched voice. Then, with a grin: “What a nice truck you have… eh?”
He looked around with genuine curiosity. “And this truck seats six, has four doors, and is diesel?”
“Yes,” I said, unsure where this was going.
Still smiling, he asked, “Would you be open to driving for the Amish?”
“Sure, I’ll consider it,” I blurted without thinking.
His eyes twinkled. “We pay very good—seventy-five cents per mile. Do you have a pen and paper… eh?”
Using the hood of the truck as his desk, he neatly wrote down his and his wife’s names and address, then asked for mine in return. With another smile and a wave, he headed back to his chores.
Driving home, we replayed the moment again and again. My daughter Hannah finally summed it up perfectly: “Well, that was weird.”
That evening, I noticed Eddie hadn’t written down a phone number. Later, I learned he used a phone in a little shack on a neighbor’s property—one that could only make calls out.
What an unusual day that had been. Little did I know that meeting Eddie would become the beginning of an entirely new chapter in my life as an Amish taxi driver.
Read More: Haley’s previous posts
- Behind The Van Door: Inside The World Of An Amish Taxi Driver
- Rules of the Road: Five Approved Uses of an Amish Taxi Driver
- Amish Taxi Driving: When The Rules Get Bent – Or Broken
- The Road Between Worlds: Navigating Boundaries as an Amish Taxi Driver
Haley Straw spent eight years driving for the Amish full-time and now writes about those experiences from her century-old county jailhouse home. A homeschooling mom of six, survival-skills teacher, and author, Haley writes about life, faith, and the beauty of ordinary moments.
You can find her books and free Amish-inspired extras — like printable calendars and bookmarks — at haleystraw.com.
Taxi drivers
I have found these articles very interesting. I was a taxi driver for 32 years in Maryland. I now live in a converted chicken coop on an Amish farm. I no longer drive but I do take phone messages for the Amish. I also do a drivers list. I started with 10 and now have 87 names and phone numbers. The Amish seem to
Like I have four states listed so it goes quite a distance.
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I feel like I know you from friends of mine. I believe I have seen your name a couple of times in The Budget Newspaper out of Sugarcreek, Ohio also. Did you work in the Mechanicsville or Oakland area?
Amish taxi driver life
Hi Merrillyn,
It’s so good to hear from you again! Thirty-two years — that’s true dedication. I only lasted eight years driving full-time, so I have a deep appreciation for your endurance and commitment. It’s terrific that you’ve found a new way to stay connected and continue serving the Amish community. Eighty-seven drivers — that’s quite a network! You’re right, they do love to keep phone numbers handy from far and wide.
“Bloom where you are planted.”
Warm regards,
Haley
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Where community does she drive people in ? I notice the first photo was a Dan Miller buggy above without the mirrors.
Buggy type
Dan Miller buggy, I’ve never heard of that before. I live in NW Missouri. That picture was taken in an old order community in Wisconsin.
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We have the Dan Gmay (Church) here in the Holmes County area. Their buggies don’t have mirrors, but they are allowed LED lights and SMV triangles. The Dan Miller Gma, also known as the Andy Weaver Amish, was founded in 1952 by the late Bishop Andy J. Weaver. They are stricter than the mainstream Old Order Amish in Holmes County, but not as strict as the Swartzentruber Amish. You won’t see solar panels on their homes, and you definitely won’t find computers in their shops like we do. I’m sure if you asked someone who moved down to Missouri from here, they could tell you more about them as well. I don’t think you have the same huge variety down there like we do up here—you have some Swartzentruber and Old Order Amish, but not as many different groups.
Andy Weaver Amish
Hi Dan,
I appreciate that explanation. I’ve never asked the Amish out here those questions, but now you’ve got me curious — I’ll be running around with some of my riders today and plan to ask.
From what I’ve seen here in Missouri, the Swartzentruber and Old Order Amish make up most of the communities, and the differences between them are quite noticeable even to an outsider. The Swartzentruber homes are often more plain — no battery lights, no reflective triangles — while some of the Old Order families I drive for do use battery lanterns or have slightly more modern shop tools. But as you mentioned, nothing like what you’d see in Holmes County with all its variety!
Holmes County really is one of my favorite places to visit — so many distinct settlements, each with its own rhythm. It’s fascinating to see how those small differences in rules and leadership shape the daily lives of each group.
Thanks again for sharing that background. I always enjoy learning more from readers who know their local communities well.
Warmly,
Haley
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It is very interesting…there are so many flavors and varieties it can get confusing! I will begin the process of joining church here in Holmes County, Ohio if you have any more posts get them on so I can read them before then….I really enjoy them!
Sincerely
Daniel M.
Not all are alike
It really can get confusing, can’t it? I’ve tried to come up with one thing I can say that fits all Amish—but I haven’t found it yet. Not all Amish drive buggies, or live off the grid, or dress the same way. Every community adheres to its own standards of conduct, and that’s part of what keeps me so fascinated.
Funny thing—just today I asked an Amish elder if he’d ever heard of Amish America, and he hadn’t.
You’re joining the Amish church? That sounds like a story worth telling someday. Best wishes on that.
People with a heart for God have a heart for people. Amish Proverb
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You’re right—it can definitely get confusing! One thing I think most Amish share in common is their deep devotion to God. They would give their lives for Him, just as their persecuted ancestors did, and they work to preserve the church for future generations.
I’m joining the Amish Church here in Holmes County, Ohio. I’m seventeen, so I’m still developing, which I think is a good thing because it makes me more open to learning and growing in the faith. I’ll be attending church at the current bishop’s home on January 4th, and just two days later I’ll turn 18. I am self-taught in Pennsylvania Dutch, and I’ve been studying Amish culture for about six years now, which has helped me appreciate and understand the faith even more.
I first met a retired bishop named Reub Andy, who introduced me to the active bishop. I shared supper with the active bishop, and he sent me a thoughtful package with books on Anabaptist heritage and one copy of The Budget. They are planning to take me to dinner soon so we can talk more and set up living arrangements. I’m welcome to stop by either of their homes anytime I’m in the area.
It’s crazy where life takes us—never would I have thought this path would be for me. Some people might think I have no idea what I’m doing, but I feel I’m stepping out in faith rather than in ignorance. The Amish aren’t perfect, but this is a church where I feel I belong, and I truly believe this is what God has in store for me.
Thanks so much for your best wishes—God bless!
Daniel M.
P.S. I’m not surprised the elder hadn’t heard of Amish America. If you ask about something online, the younger people might either laugh quietly (because they know but don’t want to say) or just openly admit, “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”