Tension rose in the Goderich courtroom when the judge asked the big man ,“HOW DO YOU PLEAD?”
Once upon a time, there was this notion of “Justice.”
It seemed normal that if someone did wrong, they could expect to receive timely punishment that fit the crime. More or less.
Today, however, Canadian law enforcement stumbles along on a catch and release legal system. A suspect arrested and taken in for charges may be released back onto the street committing further crimes before the paperwork is completed for their earlier offense. Literally.
’Twas not always thus: In the 1960s and ’70s, there lived a Huron County farmer named Mose Baer back in Howick Township on Orangehill Road. Mose ran an ordinary mixed farm — milked cows, separated cream, fed a few hogs and cattle, all under one barn roof.
More than just a farmer, Mose was also a bishop in the Conservative Mennonite church, holding well-respected oversight in a number of congregations. His neighbors held Mose in high regard because of his commitment to unvarnished truth and integrity. Although his farming methodology might have raised a few eyebrows, his impressive, well-informed intellect was as polished as any in the province.
Howick Township farmer Mose Baer was highly respected in his community for his commitment to truth and justice.
Farmer Baer was a staunch non-conformist; he refused to participate in what he deemed to be ensnaring systems, such as registering for a “mandatory” hog producer’s number. When the hog board threatened to withhold his cheques until he took a number, Mose replied, “If you think you have more right to that money than I have, go ahead and keep it.” His cheques kept coming.
One Sunday morning, the chores ran late and Bishop Mose had to hurry a little on his way to church. Mose didn’t notice the nearby police cruiser as he did a “rolling stop” at the sign. Red lights flashed in his rearview mirror.
The cop asked, “What’s the hurry?”
Mose replied, “I’m the minister and I’m late for church and if you don’t let me go right now, I’ll be a lot later.”
The cop waved him on.
A most legendary account of “Mose Baer encounters justice” occurred when a foster child at his home asked if he could borrow the family car. Mose said, “No.”
The incorrigible punk took it anyway. When the lad returned, Mose, with the help of his son, took the young reprobate up in the barn, put him over a bale and applied a belt to his backside.
Consequently, the Preacher found himself charged with assault. The day in court arrived and Mose presented himself before the bench. After reading the charge, the judge asked, “How do you plead?”
Now, picture this illustration of contrasts — the regally-robed judge representing the law of the land, facing down on this rugged farmer/Mennonite bishop, dressed in the typical plain-cut suit coat of his church affiliation. His posture — ramrod stiff, chin thrust forward. Mose believed his actions were just.
Mose issued a jaw-dropping reply for the ages: “Your Honor, he stole my car, so I gave him a whipping. If you’d steal my car I’d give you a whipping too.”
The gavel arced up and rapped down sharply on the bench, and the judge declared, “CASE DISMISSED.”
Smart judge. Today, it would be a rare paradox where legal doctrine and Biblical doctrine merged in agreement.
Then there’s the story of an old school chum, John Thompson, from the Wingham area who had his experience with truck thievery about a year ago. Hearing some noises in the night, he looked out the window to see his nearly-new GMC pickup leaving. John called the OPP and reported, “My truck just went out the lane and it’s not me driving it!”
With the help of Onstar tracking technology, the eye-in-the-sky watched the stolen truck deke down some back roads before stopping in town. There, the thieves unloaded the loot they had stolen from John’s locked workshop in which his truck had also been parked. He’d just been shopping and the shelf stacked with new power tools was a goldmine.
When Onstar remotely disabled the pickup, the thieves abandoned it and fled with the tools in another vehicle. If the cops did anything about it, John never found out. The crooks didn’t even get a slap on the wrist, let alone a belt on the butt.
Mose Baer died of heart problems in 1978, at 65 years young. If an overflowing funeral wake and attendance mean anything, Mose was a giant figure in his community.
The heart of Justice failed sometime since then, leaving a huge wake of demoralization, shrunken social trust and a twisted legal system.
Freedom Convoy leaders Tamara Lich and Chris Barber were found guilty of mischief for arranging a rousing rendition of “O Canada” on Parliament Hill in the winter of 2022. Meanwhile, the RCMP is “looking into” a former Liberal federal candidate for encouraging people to act on a Chinese bounty placed on the head of a political rival. Such an action explicitly violates the criminal code.
Any bets on who will pay the biggest price? When did justice die?
John Schwartzentruber is a Huron County farmer.
