http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/local/politics/bal-md.stoltzfus28sep28,1,3743962.story?coll=bal-local-headlines
Senator grows into his role
J. Lowell Stoltzfus brings to Annapolis a Mennonite devotion to peace,
but recent events are helping to sharpen his aggressiveness
By Jennifer Skalka
Sun reporter
September 28, 2005
Westover // Sen. J. Lowell Stoltzfus, a devout Mennonite, is seen as
one of the gentlest members of the General Assembly. Balding, with big,
warm brown eyes and glasses, he teaches Sunday school classes to adults
and talks about his love of a cappella singing.
But Stoltzfus has been steamed lately, and he isn't hiding it. As one
of four Republicans on the special committee investigating whether Gov.
Robert L. Ehrlich Jr. fired state workers for political reasons, he is
fighting to make sure the eight Democrats on the panel don't turn the
hearings into an election-year escapade that makes the governor look
bad.
Though Stoltzfus, 56, denies he's Ehrlich's point man in the committee,
he uses the word "we" frequently during the group's meetings. As in,
"We're never going to have bipartisan cooperation." As in, "We have
nothing to hide."
He has railed against the Democrats for granting the panel subpoena
power and giving themselves the right to hire outside counsel. And, to
make his outrage plain, he has threatened to abandon the hearings
altogether.
"I'm the one who most wants to get out of it," he said during a recent
interview at his Somerset County farm. "I think it's a silly waste of
time."
Stoltzfus has served in the General Assembly since 1991 and hasn't
decided yet whether to run again. One of two farmers in the General
Assembly, the legislator says it has always been uncomfortable to be a
Republican in a Democrat-dominated legislature.
And he despises the rancor that marks each special committee hearing.
He'd rather be tending to more pressing business - the state's or his
own.
"I don't like to fight, but I will when I have to," he said.
Given his roots, it's no surprise that Stoltzfus isn't keen on doing
battle.
James Lowell Stoltzfus was born in Pottstown, Pa., the second of six
children born to a "poor farmer" and a homemaker who had only completed
eighth grade. His grandfather was born Amish; his parents were
Mennonites. The church was the center of their lives.
When he was 5, Stoltzfus' family relocated to Snow Hill so his father
could help start a Mennonite church there. Mennonites believe in peace
above all and service to those in need.
Stoltzfus described his childhood as insular. The men in his life wore
dark coats. The woman wore prayer veils and weren't permitted to cut
their hair. Shorts were a no-no. Interest in government and politics
was shunned as too worldly.
It was a very big deal, Stoltzfus said, when he chose to take a high
school physical education class. Stoltzfus laughed as he recalled that
he opted for longer Bermuda shorts instead of the skimpier gym shorts
the other students were wearing.
Stoltzfus graduated from a Mennonite boarding school in Pennsylvania
and then studied at what is now Salisbury University, where he majored
in English and sociology and played center on the varsity basketball
team. He also completed a year of seminary school at Eastern Mennonite
University in Harrisonburg, Va.
After teaching English and music at Pocomoke High School, Stoltzfus
took over his father's nursery. He married a Mennonite woman whom he
had first met in high school. Their business - Stoltzfus Plant Farm -
grew, and so did their family.
Now a father of four and grandfather of one - James Lowell Stoltzfus
III - Stoltzfus owns about 500 meticulously maintained acres of
farmland on the Eastern Shore. He grows cabbage, soybeans, corn and
wheat on the property and employs about 80 people, depending on the
season.
Stoltzfus and his wife, Sharon, a sixth-grade teacher, raised their
children in a 1902 farmhouse on the property. A few years ago, they
sold it to build a modern home nearby. The Pocomoke River snakes past
their backyard.
Inside, a Bible sits on a coffee table. Music for "Hymns of the
Christian Life" is perched on the piano.
A challenging year
On a recent afternoon, Stoltzfus sat, legs crossed, in a living room
chair. He was candid about the challenges he has faced over the past
year. Even when he tries to stop himself from dwelling on the personal
or political, he often continues. It's as if sharing comes most
naturally to him.
Last session, Stoltzfus said, he survived a push to oust him as Senate
minority leader.
"They said to me, 'You're not aggressive enough,'" he recalled.
"'You're not a fighter. We need a fighter.'"
Sen. Andrew P. Harris, the minority whip, was the man who wanted to
replace him. Harris said he has seen another side of Stoltzfus during
the special committee hearings. The pit bull in Stoltzfus has surfaced,
a development Harris sees as an expression of Stoltzfus' interest in
justice, not politics.
"To understand Lowell, I think you have to understand that he really
doesn't like when people don't treat other people fairly and with
respect and honesty," Harris said. "And I think why he's been so
outspoken on this issue is because he really truly in his heart
perceives that this is not something that's being done for the good of
the state but is a political maneuver."
Sen. Thomas M. Middleton, the Democratic co-chairman of the special
committee, which is scheduled to meet again tomorrow, has faced off
frequently with Stoltzfus over the course of the hearings. They quarrel
often, with Stoltzfus insisting that the minority's wishes are being
ignored and Middleton, face growing red with frustration, exclaiming
that he's doing all he can to address their concerns.
Affection and respect
Despite their differences, Middleton expressed great affection and
respect for Stoltzfus, an anti-abortion fiscal conservative who rarely
breaks with his party. He said he understands that Stoltzfus has a job
to do, and he senses that it's paining him.
"He's one of the most decent, caring people I've ever met in my life,"
Middleton said.
Harder still than the political feuding dominating Stoltzfus' life in
Annapolis was the news that his wife of 34 years was sick. During the
last legislative session, Sharon Stoltzfus, 55, started suffering from
a range of symptoms that were hard to ignore: muscle cramps, trembling
hands, difficulty turning over in bed and exhaustion.
"I knew she was having trouble," Stoltzfus said. "I knew her health
wasn't right."
A local neurologist diagnosed Parkinson's disease. But the couple held
out hope. They waited five months to seek a second opinion. A doctor at
Johns Hopkins confirmed their fears in August.
Sharon's health is, not surprisingly, the key variable that will
determine whether Stoltzfus will run for re-election. He said she's on
several medications that seem to be helping. She's sleeping better of
late. They're taking life as it comes, Stoltzfus said. They attend
Holly Grove Mennonite Church every Sunday and pray together daily. They
are enjoying time with their children and life on the farm.
Sharon Stoltzfus said her husband turns to his faith to give him
strength - both in dealing with her illness and his new
responsibilities with the special committee. He knows that he can't
always control things. "You do your best and then let it go," she said.
The rural stretch of road that leads from the main highway to
Stoltzfus' acreage winds through cornfields and past modest frame
houses. Three large wooden crosses stand guard on one side of the
street.
Stoltzfus loves to roam his property. During a recent drive, he pointed
to the row upon row of trees he has planted, sycamores and sawtooth
oak, persimmon trees and bald cypress. He kept a lookout for wild
turkey, quail and deer. His voice dropped slightly as he recalled that
the night before he watched a fawn nurse on a doe.
"I'd rather watch them now than hunt them by far," Stoltzfus said.
Copyright © 2005, The Baltimore Sun