TWO DAYS AFTER A SERIOUS car-motorcycle crash by our house, I’m ready to write about this traumatizing event.
First and foremost, I am thankful that the motorcyclist, Scott Hoffbeck, 61, of Farmington survived. He was critically injured and listed in stable condition Thursday morning at St. Mary’s Hospital in Rochester, according to Faribault police. Hoffbeck was taken directly to the Faribault airport and airlifted out within an hour of the 9:06 p.m. Wednesday crash.
Those are the basic facts. The cause of the crash, which happened at the intersection of Willow Street and Tower Place, remains under investigation. The driver of the car, identified as Abdirahman Harun, 20, of Faribault, was not injured.
GRATEFUL
The story I want to share today is one of gratitude and recognition of two individuals who rendered aid to the motorcyclist before emergency personnel arrived. They are my husband, Randy, and a passing motorist whom I flagged down to help. I firmly believe that, if not for Randy and Rosa (not her real name, because I did not ask permission to use it), Scott may not have survived or could have experienced additional injuries.
Shortly after hearing the crash, Randy and I looked out the front living window to see a motorcycle lying in the street, the motionless driver beside it. We raced out of our house to help, me barefoot and Randy in his socks. We feared initially that the motorcyclist was dead. But as I neared the biker, I could hear his ragged breathing. It’s a sound unlike any I’ve ever heard and my fear of his imminent death grew.
While Randy was on the phone with 911, the driver of the car was also, asking me for our address to summon help. I prayed aloud for the motorcyclist, whose name I did not yet know.
In a situation like this, time stands still and moments fly and everything seems surreal and unreal and overwhelming. All I wanted was for EMTs or paramedics to arrive, care for this man and get him on his way to a trauma center.
HELPING HOWEVER WE COULD
But while we waited for first responders, we did what we could. I knew I couldn’t handle being next to Scott, seeing his severe head injury up close. Observing his head trauma from a short distance was too graphic for me, causing me to turn away.
I did what I could. And that was to stand in the middle of the street, waving my arms over my head in the hopes that oncoming traffic would see me, slow down and avoid hitting Scott and Randy. I feared in the dark of evening, on our busy street, that they would be run over.
I asked stopped motorists if anyone had medical training. None did. But Rosa responded anyway, exiting her car to go to Scott’s side. I shall be forever grateful for her calm, loving and supportive response. Returning from an out-of-town meeting, Rosa followed a different route home than usual, taking her right to the scene of the crash. Later she would use her brand-new blazer, a gift from her father, to cradle Scott’s head and prevent additional debris from entering his head wound.
Randy remained with Scott the entire time, kneeling in the street beside him, holding his hand, keeping him still, comforting and assuring him that an ambulance was coming. Only after Scott was loaded onto a stretcher did Randy step away. He stayed calm throughout.
I, in the meantime, comforted the young driver of the car, wrapping my arms around him, holding him, gripping his shaking arms. He was clearly traumatized.
WILLOW STREET HISTORY
We’ve responded to past vehicle crashes on Willow Street, once taking in two young women on a cold November night after their car plowed into the back of a parked vehicle. Not even a year ago, a two-vehicle chase resulted in a Suburban going out of control, knocking down the power pole by our house, crossing our yard (barely missing our house) and taking out a newly-stained fence panel. Drivers of both vehicles fled the scene. Twenty years ago, our son was struck by a hit-and-run driver while crossing Willow Street on the way to his bus stop. He was not seriously injured. There have been other crashes along this arterial street within eyesight of our home. Too many to list.
But the car-motorcycle crash on Wednesday ranks as the worst. Words do not adequately convey the extent of trauma we saw, heard, felt and experienced. I am grateful for Scott’s survival and pray he makes a full recovery. I also hope the young man driving the car will be alright. It’s been a lot to process. For all of us.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Destructive ice, the help of community & more August 27, 2026
Tags: commentary, community, construction, Faribault, hail, hail damage, hailstorm, Hispanics, immigration, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Minnesota, Operation Metro Surge, opinion, storm, United States of America
IN THE FOUR-PLUS MONTHS since destructive hailstones pummeled Faribault and the surrounding area, my community has been the site of ongoing exterior construction. Drive nearly anywhere in town and you will see roofing and siding crews or newly-repaired houses.
Seven hail-damaged houses within sight of mine, including ours, have been repaired, or have yet to be fixed. That’s a lot in a single neighborhood.
Business is booming for local and out-of-town roofers and other construction companies. Local contractors can’t possibly meet the immediate demand for work.
EMPATHETIC OBSERVATIONS
But blocks from my house, an underway construction project seems a community undertaking. I know because I talked with the owner. He bought the house with the intention of fixing and flipping it. Good for him if he can improve a dilapidated house and make money by selling it.
This particular renovation caught my eye because, when I passed by, I saw a house with rafters totally exposed, loose insulation inside and workers busy sheeting. Similar work was done on our house with new sheeting laid over the existing, mostly-solid roof boards. Rafters were not exposed. I appreciate that we now have a sturdier, straighter roof.
When I saw the condition of the flip house, my first thought was “that looks worse than ours (looked).” At least on the roof. I felt instant empathy for the homeowner. So, although I don’t usually stop at construction sites, I did at this one. I felt bad for the owner.
He just happens to be Hispanic. I learned from him that the Hispanic community is deeply connected. He tapped into the strength and skills of community for his house renovation. This did not totally surprise me. I’ve seen how Hispanic/Latino communities care for one another, how they work together, how they value family, culture and community.
If not for Hispanic roofing crews, hail-damaged houses in Faribault would go mostly unrepaired. These crews work hard and fast, putting in long days, often finishing roofs in a single day.
THE VALUE OF COMMUNITY
My conversation with the flip house owner got me thinking about other communities which come together to help one another on construction endeavors. In the past, and maybe even still today, the Amish raise barns in a day. Habitat for Humanity brings volunteers together to build homes alongside professionals. Decades ago, friends came over to help shingle our roof. During this past year, volunteers rehabbed a rental house owned by my church.
And in 1967, extended family arrived at my childhood family farm to help my dad and a local carpenter build our new home with a walk-out basement. If not for helpful family, I don’t think my parents could have built new. The cost would have been out of reach. We needed a new house to replace the cramped, drafty 1 1/2-story aged farmhouse with a partial dirt cellar, no bathroom, three small bedrooms, and an oil-burning stove centered in the living room.
WORSE THAN A HAILSTORM
All of this came to mind when talking with my new Hispanic acquaintance. I praised him for improving the neighborhood by buying and fixing up a run-down home. I also told him I’m sorry for the aggressive and often illegal detainment of Hispanics, Latinos and others by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) during Operation Metro Surge (and beyond) in Minnesota. That includes right here in my city.
A recent media report states that the 5,000th immigrant detainee (since November 2025) was recently flown out of the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. That’s documented by a Minnesotan with boots on the ground at the airport video-taping departures of shackled detainees.
ICE has targeted Hispanic roofers. In December 2025, ICE arrived at a construction site in Chanhassen, southwest of Minneapolis, stranding two workers on a roof for hours during sub-zero temperatures resulting in hypothermia. In Bemidji in far northern Minnesota, roofing companies lost nearly all of their crews during ICE raids this summer. Many other such detainments have happened across the state and country and are ongoing.
Soon a new ICE detention center will open in a former abandoned private prison in Appleton in far western Minnesota. CoreCivic, a name familiar to anyone who has followed ICE actions, sold the prison to the federal government and is now contracted to run the detention center.
Suddenly that April hailstorm in Faribault doesn’t seem all that bad in comparison with what’s unfolding in this country. And I’m not talking only immigration. I’m also talking about government surveillance, an unnecessary war, tariffs, efforts to suppress voting rights (especially those of Black voters and of women), high gas and food prices, a failing economy and on and on. So much damage has been done to our country that will take years, if not decades, to recover, to repair the destruction hailed upon this nation.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling