August | 2010 | Minnesota Prairie Roots

Celebrating words and art in Paul Bunyan land August 19, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:39 AM
Tags: art, books, festival, Hackensack, Lucette Diana Kensack, Minnesota, Minnesota author, Paul Bunyan, poetry

Paul Bunyan's sweetheart, Lucette Diana Kensack

I’VE BEEN INVITED to Hackensack, home of Paul Bunyan’s sweetheart. Lucette Diana Kensack lives (or technically, stands) along the shores of Birch Lake next to a quaint 1930s log cabin that is the Hackensack Lending Library.

The lakeside of the Hackensack Lending Library. To the left stands Lucette.

Just down the road along First Street sits a sweet, pink fairy tale cottage.

Unfortunately, I’m not traveling to Hackensack, which lies midway between Brainerd and Bemidji and marks the half-way point on The Paul Bunyan Trail. I was just in Hackensack last summer and another trip that far north is not on the schedule. But if it was, I tell you, I would want to stay at that Hansel and Gretel cottage. (I don’t care that it’s a private home.)

I discovered the fairy tale cottage while visiting Hackensack last summer.

Instead, I’ll be back here in southern Minnesota awaiting results of a poetry competition. You see, some time ago I submitted two poems for possible display at The Northwoods Art Festival and Book Fair in Hackensack from 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. on Saturday, August 28.

Recently I learned that both my poems were selected for display and are vying, like all the chosen poems, for “Works of Merit” designation by long-time Brainerd poet Doris Stengel. The visiting public will also vote for their six favorites as “Popular Choice” award winners. As far as I know, no cash prizes are made. Rather the prize lies in peer and/or public recognition.

I would love to tell you which of the untagged poems are mine. But since I don’t want to be accused of voter fraud, illegal lobbying or some other such poetic “crime,” I have sworn myself to secrecy. I’m quite certain that revelation of my poems’ titles could lead to disqualification.

That disclaimer aside, if you’re in the Hackensack area on August 28, check out the arts festival and specifically the poetry display at the Union Congregational Church. Minnesota writers and illustrators will be at the church signing and selling their books. At 1:30 p.m., the award winners will be announced and display poets can read their poems.

But there’s more to this fest than the written word. You also will find artists who work in paint, clay, metal, wood, fiber and photography. Throw in food and music and you have a genuine Paul Bunyan-worthy Minnesota festival.

Come to think of it, perhaps I should have penned a poem about Paul Bunyan.

Could sauerkraut juice treat a bad case of itchy feet? August 18, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:17 AM
Tags: chiggers, feet, health care, itchiness, poison ivy

I HADN’T INTENDED to publish another health post today. Honestly. But then I never planned to suffer from a severe case of itchiness either.

My feet look like a minefield of scratched open bug bites. And they could be—chigger bites. Or so I thought. Yesterday, my physician seemed to be leaning toward poison ivy, or even poison oak, as he diagnosed contact dermatitis.

Whatever label is tacked onto my current condition doesn’t really matter, he added, because all would be treated with a prescription corticosteroid ointment to reduce itching, redness and swelling.

Uh, huh. After two applications, I still had itching, redness and swelling. I was anticipating immediate relief.

WARNING: If you are squeamish, please scroll down. Due to inheriting crooked toes from my maternal grandfather, my feet are not pretty under normal circumstances. But then add a case of poison ivy or chiggers, or whatever I have, and they are less attractive. As you can see, I scratched and scratched and scratched some more. I could not help myself. I started counting the welts and stopped at 25.

Last night I even sought out advice from a local pharmacist, who, after I asked, told me that a prepackaged oatmeal bath treatment would be a waste of my money. Instead, he steered me to an over-the-counter antihistamine. Reluctant to use this allergy medication, I purchased it anyway, quite confident that I would not need the product.

When I arrived home with my package of magic pills, my husband Randy advised me to keep the receipt. He knows me well. I wasn’t ready to pop any antihistamine tablets.

Instead, I tried soaking my feet in a cool baking soda bath, which did nothing except make my feet wet.

As bedtime approached, along with the prospect of an itchy, sleepless night, that antihistamine was sounding more doable. Yet, I resisted, applied the corticosteroid ointment and went to bed.

Ninety minutes later, still awake and crazy with itchiness, I was now ready to swallow the allergy medication that promised to stop the itching and make me drowsy. But first, I tried the baking soda bath again, hoping it would work the second time around. It didn’t.

Off to bed with the antihistamine infiltrating my system, the intense itching finally stopped. But the drowsy quotient of the drug failed.

This morning I arose around 6:30 after a mostly sleepless night. My feet still look like a war zone. But the itchiness, for the most part, has subsided.

But, if it returns, I’m prepared.

At the height of my itchiness yesterday, when I was nearly in tears, Randy asked, “What would your grandma do?”

I thought for a moment. “Sauerkraut.”

Quick to inject humor into the situation, he advised that I stomp sauerkraut. But then he offered a second suggestion: “Apply a horseradish paste.”

DEAR READERS, how have you dealt with contact dermatitis caused by chigger bites (unlikely in my case), poison ivy (likely, although I have not tromped through the woods, but have walked through strangers’ and friends’ yards, sat around two campfires and been in a cow pasture recently) or poison oak (whatever that may be)?

Have you tried sauerkraut juice, horseradish paste or some other home remedy? Please e-mail your suggestions by posting a comment. My feet are counting on you for relief.

Just in case you wanted another angle of my pock-marked foot, here you go. I tried to photograph my right foot, but gave up. It doesn't look quite as bad as the left. But it's still awful-looking and now sports one water blister.

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A closer look at whooping cough, including my story August 17, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:19 AM
Tags: disease, health, Minnesota, pertussis, vaccines, whooping cough

FIVE YEARS AGO, I earned the distinction of becoming my physician’s first adult whooping cough patient in his 30-plus year career.

I still remember that day when I perched on the examining table, so exhausted from my coughing fits and a subsequent lack of sleep that I could barely function. Five weeks earlier my doctor had diagnosed bronchitis. When I wasn’t getting any better, I returned and he gave me the same diagnosis. But now, on this third visit with my condition steadily deteriorating, I wanted answers.

Then I coughed.

For my doctor, that was a profound moment. He didn’t even hesitate. “I think you have whooping cough,” he blurted, then soon left the room to consult with another physician.

I don’t recall exactly how I responded, but I remember thinking that whooping cough couldn’t possibly exist in 2005.

How very wrong I was about that assumption. Today, five years after I struggled with this debilitating illness that invaded my lungs and throat, causing persistent coughing fits, a severe sore throat, asthmatic type attacks and a resulting inability to sleep, the disease continues to infect, and even kill.

California, if trends continue, is expecting more pertussis (whooping cough) cases in 2010 than it’s seen in 50-plus years, according to the California Department of Public Health. As of August 10, those numbers stood at 2,774 reported cases, including seven deaths among infants. The cases represent a seven-fold increase from the 395 reported during the same period in 2009.

Naturally, I wondered how Minnesota compares. According to statistics from the Minnesota Department of Health, as of July 16, there had been 395 cases reported. The report notes that the state is near the end of an outbreak that began in 2008.

In my home county, Rice, three cases of the disease have been recorded in 2010. The majority of infections are, as I would expect, in the more heavily-populated counties of Hennepin (75 cases), Wright (60), Dakota (52) and Ramsey (40).

But statistics really don’t matter if you’re the one with whooping cough. I remember the follow-up phone call from my physician who delivered the news that pertussis is known as “the 100-day cough.” He wasn’t kidding.

And he wasn’t kidding that he really couldn’t do anything for me. The disease would have to run its course—for me from early July until after Labor Day—and my body would need to heal on its own. Antibiotics help only early on in either preventing whooping cough or diminishing the severity of a case. The pertussis bacteria die off naturally after three weeks of coughing.

My entire family received a regiment of antibiotics with my husband and my second daughter both developing whooping cough, albeit much milder than mine.

Whooping cough, I can undeniably tell you, should be taken seriously. If you are an adult, or a teen, and haven’t been vaccinated since childhood, listen up. By age 10 or 12, you are no longer protected by that childhood vaccine. I was 48 years old when I developed pertussis. I’ll never know how I contracted the disease, but it’s highly-contagious. Infants are especially vulnerable.

Ironically, in the same year I became ill, new vaccines for adolescents and adults were approved. With widespread immunization, pertussis can become an illness of the past.

Within my own family, whooping cough claimed the life of my Aunt Deloris. On May 10, 1935, Deloris Edna Emilie Bode, second-born daughter of Lawrence and Josephine, died of pertussis, pneumonia and a gangrene-type infection of the mouth at the age of nine months and nine days.

Whenever I think of Deloris, I nearly weep at the thought of that beautiful baby girl wracked with uncontrollable coughing fits, struggling to breathe, fighting to live. I will feel forever linked to her by whooping cough, the 100-day cough, and today a preventable disease.

(The national Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has designated August as National Immunization Awareness Month.)

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Plaid in Paradise August 13, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:29 AM
Tags: arts, entertainment, family, Faribault, Forever Plaid, The Merlin Players, theater

I KNEW HE REALLY didn’t want to attend the show. I’ve been married to my husband long enough (28 years) to gauge his interest.

So when I asked Thursday evening at the supper table whether he wanted to go to Forever Plaid by The Merlin Players at the Paradise Center for the Arts, I didn’t expect (and didn’t get) an “Oh, yeah, I can’t wait to see the play,” jumping-up-and-down reaction. Randy isn’t that sort of emotional guy.

I purposely failed to mention one little fact to him. Forever Plaid is a musical. If I want Randy to attend a musical production with me, I won’t let the “m” word slip from my tongue. That’s almost a guarantee that he’ll balk at attending.

But apparently he’s caught on to my lack of full disclosure. As we settled into our seats, among the few remaining for Thursday evening’s nearly sold-out performance, I turned to him: “Oh, I didn’t tell you this is a musical.”

“I thought so,” he said.

The Paradise Center for the Arts theatre during last summer's production of South Pacific.

For the next 90-plus minutes we listened to Forever Plaid, a quartet of actors/singers, croon and belt out songs from the 1950s and 1960s in a high-energy show. From “Chain Gang” to “Love Is a Many Splendored Thing” to “She Loves You,” these guys could sing and dance and move in nearly perfect unison. What a show. They made me tired simply watching them perform, and sweat.

They also made me smile, non-stop. After awhile I realized that I had been smiling from the moment the quartet, and their back-up band, set foot on the Paradise stage. It’s that kind of musical.

I especially enjoyed their three-plus minute interpretation of The Ed Sullivan Show. The Plaid Boys zipped on and off the stage as jugglers, ventriloquists, a singing nun and more representative of the Sunday night television variety program. Wow, that brought back memories.

Mostly, though, Forever Plaid, the story of a male quartet killed in a tragic accident and come back to life for the performances of their lives, entertained me. And isn’t that what theater is, should be?

I just have one little confession. I dislike plaid—really, really, really dislike plaid.

Plaid, no favorite of mine, and the reason I couldn't print this photo in a larger size, although this plaid is more subdued and OK with me, as far as plaids.

The Merlin Players will present two more productions of Forever Plaid at 7:30 p.m. on August 13 and 14 at the historic Paradise Center for the Arts at 321 Central Avenue in historic downtown Faribault.

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Minnesota heat wave, Argentine polar wave…what’s with this crazy weather? August 12, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:19 AM
Tags: Argentina, family, heat wave, Minnesota, polar wave, weather

WHEN MY DAUGHTER e-mailed recently from Argentina complaining about the cold weather, I wasn’t too sympathetic. It’s winter there. What does she expect?

Plus, I’d welcome a blast of chilly air right now to ice down this interminable, steamy hot summer we’ve had in Minnesota.

But then I started thinking, as I’m apt to do, and sent her a list of questions, as I’m apt to do. Fortunately, my second-born indulged my curiosity and replied with an informational e-mail about South America’s recent “polar wave.”

Even that phrase, “polar wave,” makes me smugly smirk as I think of “Arctic air” and “Alberta clippers” in Minnesota. What do these South Americans know about frigid temperatures anyway? Have they ever endured temps or windchills in the double digits below zero like us hardy northerners?

Once I overcame my oversized Paul Bunyan attitude of superiority, I attempted to objectively consider my daughter’s southern weather report.

She wrote: “The polar wave, or La Ola Polar, supposedly is cold air that comes up from Antarctica. It may last for a few days or a whole week, it depends. I think they start calling it a polar wave when it’s around 0 degrees Celsius or lower (32 degrees F). People usually just put on heavier jackets. Gloves and scarves are common, too. You won’t see a large amount of people with hats, though.”

OK, no stocking caps, no ear flaps, no wool coats or parkas or winter boots. And, for gosh sakes, don’t those Argentines know that your fingers will stay warmer if you wear mittens instead of gloves?

Then, surprise, surprise, “some places in Argentina even got snow,” my 22-year-old daughter continues. “For my friend Sam in Tucuman, it was his first time seeing snow! An article in the Clarin (Buenos Aires daily newspaper) from August 4 said that on August 3, it got to -7.1 degrees C (around 19-20 degrees F), with a windchill of -11.5 C (about 11 F) in San Antonio Oeste in the Río Negro province, and that was the lowest temp recorded for the day. Another Clarin article said that on Aug. 4 the coldest place in the country was in Río Mayo in the Chubut province, where it got to -25 C (-13F). This was the coldest temperature recorded in the past 5 years. In the Mendoza province, they had to suspend classes in 23 schools b/c the pipes froze.”

About then I realized that maybe this polar wave isn’t all that humorous. Likely, these South Americans don’t have the heating systems or insulated homes to deal with such unexpected frigid air. And, certainly, they don’t have the seasoned, inbred knowledge we Midwesterners have for comfortably surviving harsh winters.

After a bit of online research, I discovered that this recent cold weather has claimed many lives—in Bolivia, 18; Paraguay, 10; and Argentina, eight (in a single weekend), according to a July 20 CNN World report.

Thankfully, weather conditions are improving in South America, including Buenos Aires where my daughter lives. “After a week in the 35-40 degree range, it’s now around 55-60 degrees,” she tells me.

The warmer weather arrives in Argentina just in time for the arrival of her older sister today from Minneapolis.

I’ll be curious to hear: Which does she prefer, Minnesota heat wave or Argentine polar wave?

Minnesota or Arkansas, heat or mosquitoes… August 11, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:47 AM
Tags: Arkansas, family, Minnesota, mosquitoes, weather

WHEN MY UNCLE BOB proclaimed last week that he had just gotten his first mosquito bite in 15 years, I nearly flipped over in my lawn chair.

But I quickly rebounded. “Well, then,” I suggested, looking him squarely in the eye, “why don’t you take a whole van load back to Arkansas.”

He declined my offer while my Aunt Rae disputed his 15-year claim. Despite the differing opinions, I surmised that mosquitoes apparently aren’t all that common in northern Arkansas where my relatives retired to from Minneapolis 15 years ago.

But I’ve heard about the unbearable, muggy, oppressive heat down there, similar to what we’ve experienced in Minnesota this summer.

However, on the day my aunt and uncle visited my Faribault home last week, the weather was picture perfect after a string of unbearable, muggy, oppressive days. As we sat on the patio visiting, Bob remarked how nice it was to sit outside in the cool evening air.

I, too, was enjoying the respite from the heat and humidity, and from being cooped up inside in the air conditioning.

As dusk approached, my relatives announced that they should leave for their daughter’s Minneapolis home, their day’s final destination.

“Come down and visit us sometime,” Aunt Rae invited, as she does every time I see her and Uncle Bob.

I was non-committal. I’ve already had enough of the heat and humidity, I thought to myself. But that mosquito-free environment did tempt me, for just a second.

Soleful art in Paradise August 10, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:24 AM
Tags: art, Burkhartzmeyer Shoes, Faribault, Paradise Center for the Arts, Shoe Stories, shoes

"1,001 Uses for Duct Tape" by Harry Skalski

THEY ARE NOT EXACTLY ruby slippers. They are, in fact, quite the opposite of the sparkly, magical heels worn by Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz.

Yet, angled on a pedestal under the strategically-placed lights of the art gallery, these one-of-a-kind silver flip flops shine with individual style, for they are made of shiny duct tape-wrapped board.

Welcome to “Shoe Stories,” the latest art exhibit at the Paradise Center for the Arts in historic downtown Faribault. Here nearly 40 pieces of juried art, like “1,001 Uses for Duct Tape” by Harry Skalski of Northfield, fill the gallery. Artists were invited to submit a shoe-themed piece that fit inside a shoebox.

"Shoe Stories" opened Friday at the Paradise Center for the Arts in Faribault.

The result is a show as magical and alluring as the Emerald City. As I circle the gallery, weaving in and out of displays, I feel as if I am on the yellow brick road, encountering not flying monkeys, but pieces of soleful art that engage and invite me to pause and ponder.

Visitors peruse "Shoe Stories" on the exhibit's opening night.

"Step on a line," a batik with stitching by Faribault artist Tami Oachs, received first place as judged by Minnesota State University-Mankato Professor Emeritus James Tanner.

"This is My Box," an oil on canvas by Cindy L. Brant of Faribault.

Internationally-renowned Faribault woodcarver Marv Kaisersatt's wood caricature, "If the Shoe Fits."

Faribault artist Deb Johnson's batik, "Hey, Baby, Let's Go For a Walk."

Truly, every artist has communicated some message, some idea, on the subject of shoes. Many have shared stories in addition to art.

Krista Kielmeyer Swanson, for example, presents a nostalgic remembrance of shopping at Burkhartzmeyer Shoes, a long-time family shoe store several blocks away and a co-sponsor of “Shoe Stories” along with Johnson Advisors. Writes Swanson: “To this day I can remember the feeling I would have when you handed me my shoes, tied with string. I felt so proud walking out of the store carrying my new shoes.”

Burkhartzmeyer Shoes, "A Family Tradition Since 1949," and located at 128 Central Avenue in Faribault. Purchased shoes are still boxed and tied with string in this old-fashioned traditional shoe store.

As I read the stories, peruse the art, I begin noticing the shoes of other art gallery visitors—strappy leather sandals, shiny Mary Janes, sturdy two-toned practical ties, clogs…

"The Sole of Art," my blog art version of "Shoe Stories," inspired while photographing exhibit visitors' shoes.

And then I look down at my feet and my silver flip flops which, except for the field of flowers growing under my soles, resemble “1,001 Uses for Duct Tape.”

My silver flip flops, purchased at a major retailer.

“SHOE STORIES,” the idea of Faribault artist and PCA Gallery Committee member Arlene Rolf, is showing through September 25 in the Carlander Family Gallery. The art center is open Tuesday through Saturday and is located at 321 Central Avenue in historic downtown Faribault.

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Gargoyles perform at The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour August 9, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:18 AM
Tags: Chicago Gargoyle Brass, churches, concert, Faribault, music, The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour, The Vintage Band Festival

THE CHURCH DOOR bangs, the weight of the solid wood slamming against the frame as if decisively shutting out the hot, humid air that oppresses on this sultry Sunday afternoon in August in Minnesota.

We entered The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour through this heavy side door, which you need to push rather than pull, we learned after waiting outside, thinking we were locked out of the church.

Inside the sanctuary, I seek respite from the suffocating 90-plus degree heat. I settle onto a purple cushion which softens the hardness of wood against flesh in a pew that forces me to sit ramrod straight.

My husband and I, expecting a packed house, have arrived early for a performance by The Chicago Gargoyle Brass at The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault. This massive structure with its looming tower was constructed from 1862 – 1869 as the first Cathedral of the American Church.

The Chicago Gargoyle Brass presented a Sunday afternoon concert at The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault.

The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour sits along Second Avenue across from Faribault's Central Park.

Inside, I welcome the coolness, visually defined by stone and by the dark wood that shapes the arches of the ceiling.

In the chancel area, which stretches an interminable distance from the pews and which is bigger than some country churches I’ve seen, Gargoyle Brass members have positioned their gleaming instruments and music stands at the forefront. Six stained glass windows embrace this “stage” with the glorious 1871 pipe organ (with more old pipes than any other in Minnesota), to the right.

Concert attendees filter into this historic cathedral made of dark wood and stone.

Truly, I am in awe of this cathedral. “This place smells old,” I whisper to Randy as I run my hand along the back of a pew. “Are these the original pews?” They are, I learn upon reading a brochure I’ve picked up. A Civil War veteran cut and planed the wood from northern Minnesota white pine.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off the brass eagle that serves as a lectern given in honor of Bishop Henry Whipple’s wife, Cornelia, who died in July 1890. Bishop Whipple settled in Faribault, oversaw construction of the cathedral and Episcopalian schools and was known for his efforts in helping and befriending Native Americans.

While I wait for the concert to begin, I contemplate the beauty and history of this place and the effort it must have taken to build this stone cathedral.

Soon the concert, part of The Vintage Band Festival hosted in nearby Northfield, begins and we are swept away by the sounds of trumpets, horn, trombone, tuba and timpani (kettledrums) melded with the organ.

The Chicago Gargoyle Brass performs at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour.

I am surprised mostly that the organ does not overpower this cathedral. Often, the music sounds more sedated and muffled than majestic, as I had expected. That has nothing to do with the quality of the organists—for they are superb—but more, I think, to do with the organ placement.

At one point during the concert, a key spring on the organ breaks and a second organist must hold up the key during a performance. “Does someone have some bubblegum?” one of the musicians asks the audience. I’m not sure whether he’s serious or joking, but the concert continues without the gum.

Admittedly, I am no music expert. I can’t read notes. I barely know one instrument from another. So my enjoyment of music is purely, solely authentic, grassroots basic. When my head bobs spontaneously, when I feel the music reverberating, tingling my feet, when I feel an emotional connection, then I know I am hearing good music.

Sunday afternoon I heard good, even great, music from The Chicago Gargoyle Brass, which began in 1992 as a University of Chicago based group. The name was derived from the university’s architecture.

“I love this church,” horn player Arisia Gilmore tells us before performing “Twas a Dark and Stormy Night” with Michael Surratt at the organ. “It’s fitting for the atmosphere we’re trying to portray here.”

As I listen to the music build, like a storm, Randy leans toward me. “Does this remind you of two weeks ago?” he speaks softly into my ear. I nod. He is, like me, recalling the night of July 23 when we were caught in our car on a rural southwestern Minnesota road in the middle of a raging thunderstorm that packed 70 mph winds.

That’s the purpose of music, I think—to stir passions, emotions and, yes, even memories of dark and stormy nights when gargoyles lurk.

A looming tower marks the cathedral located along Second Avenue across from Faribault's Central Park.

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“It could be cancer, but you’re too healthy” August 7, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:49 AM
Tags: American Cancer Society, cancer, Faribault, fundraising, Relay for Life, Straight River Stroll

Layton Fossum, cancer survivor, poses with a luminary bag given in his honor at the Straight River Stroll in Faribault Friday night.

MEET LAYTON FOSSUM. Two years ago the Northfield man suffered from a raspy throat, a hearing loss and then a twitch in his face.

Must be a virus, the doctors initially told him. But the then 45-year-old persisted and eventually was diagnosed with a very rare form of cancer with a name he struggles to pronounce. So he simply says “head and neck cancer.”

After a 10 ½-hour surgery that was supposed to take three, he emerged with 40 fewer lymph nodes, but thankful to be alive. Next he would explore his post-operative treatment options, traveling to Houston, Seattle, Illinois and California before finally settling on radiation at Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Zion, Illinois.

Through-out his journey, this Malt-O-Meal employee who missed six months of work due to his cancer and is happier than ever now to go to work, has remained positive. Even today he can joke about his experience. “I told my wife I’m worth more. I have gold in me,” Layton tells me Friday night at the Rice County Fairgrounds in Faribault during the American Cancer Society Straight River Stroll.

Thousands gathered Friday evening at the Straight River Stroll at the Rice County Fairgrounds to raise funds for cancer research to remember, celebrate and pray for those touched by cancer.

Layton points to his right eye and the lump of gold in his eyelid. Because he no longer has facial nerves on the right side, he needs the weight to help close the lid, which will shut only when he closes the opposite lid.

Then Layton shows me his ear, which, too, was reshaped during reconstructive surgery to tighten his drooping face.

Layton has no hearing in his right ear, which was reshaped during reconstructive facial surgery.

Yet, despite all he has undergone, despite the changes in his appearance, Layton remains upbeat and eager to tell his story. He was invited back to Zion and spoke for 1 ½ hours to a roomful of suit-and-ties, he says.

Before his diagnosis two years ago, Layton was the picture of health, the last one you would expect to get cancer, a friend says.

He heard the same from doctors: “It could be cancer, but you’re too healthy.”

Still, he did have cancer. And Friday evening Layton was among those celebrating their cancer-free lives at the Straight River Stroll, a Relay for Life event to fund cancer research. As I walked beside him, switching from his right to left side so he could hear me, I marveled at this man who stopped often, bent low to read the names written on white paper bags in memory of, praying for and rejoicing with those who, like him, endured cancer.

Some lost the battle. Some won. Some are still fighting.

This team of kids set out luminaries by the wagonful.

Among the personalized bags, I discovered this especially touching one drawn by a child in celebration of a father's survival.

Words of encouragement for Mike Schulz.

A luminary honors Sandy Doehling, who died of breast cancer.

Kids and teens, even adults, lined up to have their hair spray painted at a booth to raise funds for cancer research.

A volunteer ratted and sprayed a girl's hair, all to raise monies for cancer research at the Straight River Stroll.

Kids could climb inside this race car, with a hood especially designed to recognize those who have endured cancer. The hood is placed on the car, which races at Elko Speedway, only for special occasions like the Stroll.

Faribault resident Jerry Kes led the Stroll as an honored cancer survivor.

As dusk settled, volunteers began lighting the luminaries which stretched and wound around the fairgrounds.

(This post is written in memory of my dad, who died of esophageal cancer in 2003; my nephew, Justin, who died of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma in 2001; and my mom, who is a breast cancer survivor.)

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