• What were local measles vaccination rates?
• Where were the vulnerabilities?
• And more specifically, what was known about the Mennonite community in their region? 

At a high level, there was data. But when staff tried to translate that information into relationships, trust, and real points of connection, they discovered a gap. While it was known that Mennonite families lived in the area, no program area at the health department could identify an established relationship or even reliable contact within the community. This gap mattered. Because public health isn’t just about data, it’s about people. Without relationships, there is no insight, no trust, and no clear path forward when conditions change. 

Leadership at Butte County Public Health brought an understanding of rural communities. Erin Cox, the assistant director at the health department, grew up in a very rural town where people lived outside of traditional government systems. Where a strong value is placed on independence, privacy, and self-reliance, and where trust in government is not assumed but built slowly and personally. Health Officer Dr. Jarett Beaudoin brought a similar perspective. 

Because of this, they both understood something instinctively. Approaching the community as “the health department” alone might not be effective. They knew that Mennonite communities often have strong ties to baking and food production. What they didn’t know was whether those connections still existed locally after the 2018 Camp Fire, which destroyed a Mennonite‑owned bakery that had long served as a cultural and community anchor. 

They turned to an internal partner that often engages communities differently than traditional public health programs, Environmental Health. Through routine licensing and inspections, Environmental Health staff maintain practical, ongoing relationships that can be more approachable and familiar. One simple question led to progress: Were there any bakeries that might connect to the Mennonite community? 

Rather than sending formal emails or official letters, a deliberate decision was made to take a more human approach. Dr. Beaudoin and Erin met one morning at the bakery, ordered coffee and pastries, and observed the space. The bakery was quiet, and several staff members wore traditional clothing. It felt like the right place, but there was still uncertainty about how the interaction would go. After a few minutes, Erin asked whether the owners were available to talk. A young employee returned and invited them back. 

The owners, a husband and wife, greeted them with understandable caution. Two visitors from public health can easily signal enforcement or compliance issues. The health department staff introduced themselves informally and explained their intent plainly: they were working to build relationships across all communities in the county and realized they lacked a connection with the Mennonite community. They asked whether the owners might know someone to speak with, perhaps through a local church. 

The owners explained they had recently purchased the bakery from long-time Mennonite owners and were committed to preserving traditional recipes. While they were not members of the Mennonite church themselves, the wife had grown up connected to the community and remained a trusted voice. She offered to share Butte County Public Health’s contact information. 

The team expressed their thanks, along with genuine appreciation for the pastries, and left without knowing whether anything would come of it. 

A few days later, an email arrived. A Mennonite couple, connected through the bakery owners, was willing to meet. Even more, they offered to come to the public health office. The team had expected to meet wherever felt most comfortable for them, so this gesture felt like an early sign of trust. 

The meeting was intentionally kept informal. There was no agenda, no notetaking, and no structured presentation, just conversation. The discussion began with everyday topics: families, children, and schooling. Over the course of an hour, Dr. Beaudoin and Erin learned far more than any dataset could provide. They learned that much of the Mennonite community lives in a neighboring area but receives healthcare in Butte County. Children attend Mennonite schools. The husband serves as a church leader, and his wife supports the school system. 

They also clarified something critical: not all Mennonite communities are the same. The “Old Order” Mennonite community referenced in the Texas outbreak did not reflect the local community’s practices or beliefs. Importantly, vaccination was largely supported. Their own children were vaccinated, and vaccines were not culturally controversial in the same way seen elsewhere. 

The approach was not complex, but it was intentional. Acknowledging what was unknown, leveraging internal relationships, choosing an approachable, human entry point, observing before engaging, prioritizing listening over messaging, and meeting people as people, not as a system. 

As the conversation progressed, the shift was noticeable. What began as guarded became open. Side conversations emerged about parenting, travel, and community events. Trust grew organically, something no formal outreach could have achieved. 

This experience reinforced a core public health truth: communities cannot be expected to come to public health; public health must go to them. Sometimes, that doesn’t look like a formal meeting or partnership agreement. It looks like sitting in a bakery, drinking coffee, and starting a conversation. 

As measles and other vaccine preventable diseases continue to pose risks, especially in pockets of under‑immunized populations, effective response depends not only on surveillance systems, but on relationships built long before a crisis. 

This relationship is only a starting point, but it is a meaningful one. Similar approaches are now being applied to other populations with limited engagement, including homeschool communities connected through enrichment centers. 

Reaching every corner of a community requires stepping outside traditional public health pathways. It requires creativity, approachability, and a willingness to take thoughtful risks. Because sometimes, it really does start with pastries.