Working without power tools, Leslie Kast’s Amish neighbors in Clinton, Wis., put up a barn to replace the one he lost to a storm in June. The carpenters were all but done at the end of a single day.

MCT / Jeffrey Phelps

MILWAUKEE On a recent Saturday, around 7 a.m., the Amish men showed up on Leslie Kast’s property outside Westby in the northeastern part of Vernon County, Wis.

They were men with strong backs and strong hands, dressed plainly. Some of the men were superb craftsmen. Others knew how to strike nails straight and true.

But their true strength was their ability to work speedily and work together.

They came to raise a barn.

The old one had survived 88 years, had been part of the landscape in this beautiful part of the state, but had finally given way when a June storm blew in and blew it down.

Kast, a forklift operator, had rented the old barn to John Henry Miller, a member of a large Amish community that resides in the Town of Clinton.

Kast needed a new barn. So did Miller, a farmer who grows corn and grazes sheep.

Kast paid for the supplies, the lumber and nails, the siding and the roofing material. Miller and the Amish community would provide the labor, build the barn.

Miller said the project took a lot of preparation, and the men came together as word spread. For this group, there was no text messaging or cell phones. Word went out by word-of-mouth.

Miller said a small crew was assembled, around 30 men.

They worked for nearly 12 hours in the summer sun, to the sound of hammers striking nails, saws cutting through lumber.

“We want to nail by hand so we know it will be solid,” Miller said.

They broke once for lunch — brats and hot dogs on the grill, scalloped potatoes, baked beans and homemade pie.

But mostly, they worked, steadily and in unison, raising the frame with ropes, attaching the red walls, securing the white trim and white roof.

When their day was done, the barn was up. Not completely finished, but close enough for crews to return over the next few days to put on the finishing touches, such as doors and oak planks.

The men put down their tools and picked up spoons. They ate 3 1/2 gallons of ice cream before leaving Kast’s property.

They left behind ruts in the road, wheel marks from their buggies.

And, on the old landscape, they left behind a new barn.

“It is incredible how fast they got that structure up,” Kast said. “It looks like it should last a long time.”