Pastor von Ah and his traveling confessional
12/23/2017
Around 1935, Bishop Georgius had still strictly forbidden priests to ride bicycles except in emergencies. Haste in the service of God was not appropriate. Because ordinances are there not to be kept, the service for the salvation of souls became more expeditious over the years. Twenty years later, important reasons and pious persuasion were still needed to justify the purchase of a Vespa or Lambretta "Christian persecutor".
Pioneer priest Albert von Ah
Episcopal disapproval or not, the Kerns priest Albert von Ah was decades ahead of his colleagues. In 1909, he was the first clergyman and the third person from Obwalden to buy his first car, a high-wheeled Fiat. And he needed it. His friends, who like him appreciated a game of Jass (Swiss card game) and a bottle of good wine, lived almost three hours away on foot in the canton of Nidwalden.
Of course, the rattling vehicle could also be used for a ride to Sarnen with the village celebrities. Always a bit at war with the local council, it wasn't a bad idea to at least curry favor with the municipal clerk. Von Ah's high-legged two-seater with curtains on the side windows was parked more and more regularly in front of the "Obwaldnerhof" in Sarnen.
The irreverent pedestrians had long since dubbed the car "von Ah's confessional". It soon became clear how immature and unreliable the technology still was. The road from Sarnen to Kerns was steep, more suited to horses and a cursing carter than to the new motor car. By the Boll chapel at the latest, the municipal clerk had to get out of the car and, if necessary, push it along the last stretch. The two-seater was then driven into the village again.
Combined strength
Such a valuable carriage needed a shelter. To this end, von Ah had the front wall of the chicken coop above the vicarage torn out without the permission of the church bailiff, but to his annoyance. There was a problem with the access road. The rain softened the ground and the narrow wheels spun. The help of the vicarage cook, an energetic and strong spinster, was needed. With combined forces and shouts of encouragement, they set to work. The vicar shouted from the cart: "Push, Aff!", the cook behind the cart: "Pull, donkey!".
The technology made progress. Von Ah swapped the underpowered "confessional", which was built more as a city vehicle, for a Ford. It mastered the old Karrweg from Kerns to Stans effortlessly and much faster. Strangely enough, when the gentleman and his friends had drunk a liter or two of red, the car was often unable to keep on track on the way home. Once, shortly before midnight in Ennetmoos, the Ford got stuck in the dirt of the Drachenried next to the roadside. A farmer and an ox got the priest back on the right track.
Pyre in the way
To avoid the dangers of the Drachenried, there was a wider and slightly better detour from Nidwalden to Kerns via Acheregg and Alpnach. It was a mild summer evening in 1921, after a hearty Jass in the "Engel" in Stans. Von Ah drove off the road in Alpnach, today one would say by a little more than one per mille. "He drove off the bridge over the Kleine Schliere at half past ten at night, six meters over the road and just not into the Schliere". At least that's how the Alpnach village policeman recorded it in his report. The policeman and a couple of men from the nearby "Krone" got the car back onto the road, whereupon the priest, barely back at the wheel, drove into a pile of gravel. The policeman thought a fine of two francs was appropriate. Not because of the pile of gravel. Outrageous! You'd get a good Znacht (dinner) for that, raged von Ah. He only paid the fine after receiving a notice from the police director. He had found out that the priest and his friends had enjoyed plenty of wine and that the Stans innkeeper had refused to put another liter on in view of the late hour and his reverend's treacherous journey home.
Bishop's word of power
The parish and church council gave the bishop a gentle hint as to whether perhaps.......?
Yes, yes, said the bishop and ordered von Ah to sell his car immediately in a harsh letter. During the confirmation visit, the bishop wanted to see the effect of his word of power.
The priest showed the bishop the empty chicken coop and the bishop would almost have believed him if the church bailiff hadn't blabbed from school and revealed that the car was in the feed barn of the vicarage. What is credible, however, is that the car remained in the stable until the bishop had left.
