Minnesota Prairie Roots

TUESDAY EVENING I’M WATCHING American Idol when my husband suddenly leaps from his comfy spot on the couch to peer out the window.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

He doesn’t respond.

I can see only the tail end of a brown car parked in the street.

“The SWAT team is out there,” he says.

The SWAT team leads a team of law enforcement officials in Faribault Tuesday evening.

I grab my camera, which is sitting nearby. Sure enough, armored men, thick as flies, cling to the side of a vehicle that leads a procession—an ERU (which I think means “Emergency Response Unit”) vehicle, a Rice County sheriff’s squad and several Faribault police cars.

They turn at the corner by my neighbor’s house and head up and over the steep hill on First Avenue Southwest. Through the window, I quickly snap two pictures, which don’t turn out very well given my haste and the fading light under cloudy skies.

A Rice County sheriff squad and several Faribault police cars follow the SWAT team and ERU vehicle up First Avenue Southwest in Faribault.

Soon Randy and I are slipping on our shoes and walking up the hill, although I’m thinking this isn’t the smartest thing for us to be doing given all those weapons. Half way up the hill I decide to play it safe. Randy, despite my protests, forges ahead and disappears.

“They have guns,” I yell after him.

I head back home, waiting for my curious spouse to return. Safely, I hope.

He does and reports that the action is happening about three blocks away next to Division Street near the Faribault Senior Center, where the street has been cordoned off. He can’t get any closer.

And that’s OK with me.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling