Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Part III: A flood survivor’s answered prayers March 15, 2011

EDITOR’S NOTE: As Minnesotans prepare for spring floods, I bring you this third in a series of stories from Hammond. Last fall a flash flood raged through this small southeastern Minnesota community. Tina Marlowe, 36, and her family were among the many families left temporarily homeless. Floodwaters engulfed the basement of their home and flooded the main level with several inches of water.

In my last post, we left off with the family moving into a Rochester rental home after living in three different hotels.

Today we look at their material losses and Tina’s perspective on losing so much to the floodwaters.

 

A waterline on the side of this Hammond home shows just how high floodwaters rose on this house located on the south end of Second Avenue South in Hammond. Jenny Hoffman took the photo on the morning of Saturday, September 25, 2010.

WHEN TINA MOVED in with her future in-laws two years ago, most of her possessions—except for clothes and items stored in third level bedrooms—were stashed in the basement.

She lost nearly everything in the flood: Her kids’ “keepsakes.” A collection of Christmas decorations. College and kids’s books. Small appliances. Her music collection. The list goes on and on.

Her in-laws, Bob and Cathy Mann, lost a life-time of collectibles and memories stored in the basement.

“I was not able to save much, and what I did save is damaged—but I don’t care,” Tina says. “I saved my daughter’s baptism dress, cloth, candle and announcement. I was able to save her birth pillow and silver spoons, and her great-grandmother’s genuine crystal antique perfume decanters.

I was able to save my son’s first Harley Davidson outfit that his grandpa got him, and I saved the baby cowboy boots and baby blankets and, despite the damage, I kept my diploma, hat, senior yearbook and my copy of the Byron Review in which I made the front page for graduation in 1993.

I plan to tell them (my children) that just as these items are memories, the damage that they carry are memories too. I guess if one has to decide what you would save if you could only save a few things, these are the things I prayed would be spared. Somehow I feel that my prayer was answered.”

THE WORK AHEAD OF THEM

When the floodwaters subsided, Tina, her fiancé, Micheal Mann, and the rest of their family knew they were racing against time to move their soaked belongings out and gut the house.

They carried many of their possessions into their garage. In the spring they will sort through the camping equipment, the river fun equipment, the summer pool, the gardening equipment, the food processor, dehydrator, pressure cooker…to see what they can keep.

“It just breaks my heart because everything that makes me and us Minnesota was lost or damaged in this flood,” Tina says. “It will take me years to replace it all.”

CHECK BACK for Part IV of Tina’s story as she shares how her family was impacted emotionally by the flood and more.

 

John Bemmert took this photo while standing in his driveway along Second Avenue North on the afternoon of Friday, September 24, 2010. This shows the flooded intersection of Second Avenue and Wabasha County Road 11.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A super soup competition March 14, 2011

AT HIS DAY JOB, Steve sells cars. On the side, he raises chickens on his small Minnesota acreage. He’d like to add a few pigs and cows, but he’s not versed in raising those critters.

He’s an expert gardener, though, who cans his produce. He appreciates the taste of home-grown vegetables and those farm-raised chickens.

Steve also loves to cook.

Sunday night I met Steve and sampled some of his cooking at Cannon Valley Lutheran High School’s first-ever “Soup-er Bowl” in Morristown. Loaded with hefty chunks of chicken, thick homemade noodles, carrots, celery, onion and garlic, Steve’s creamy chicken noodle soup earned him a second place finish among the 10 soups entered in the cooking competition. He deserved it. I don’t typically like chicken noodle soup, but I loved Steve’s.

I asked for the secret to the cream base. A stick of butter and half-and-half combined with the juices of his home-grown chicken, additional chicken stock, bay leaves and other spices created a savory broth. By the way, Steve appears to be the kind of guy who would rather share cooking tips than keep them secret.

Steve's chicken noodle soup is in the top left corner of this photo. The winning soup, taco chili, is next to it on the right. The other soups here are corn chowder, Mulligan stew and (I think) cheeseburger.

I don’t know how the other nine competing cooks—except the youngest cook, eighth grader Louis—felt about revealing their recipes. Louis left the recipe for his fiery green chili on a table for diners to pick up. Let me tell you, when I tasted his chili laced with hot jalapenos, I gulped lemonade.

Taco chili won the 2011 “Soup-er Bowl” trophy from among entries like Mulligan stew, cheesy wild rice, corn chowder, ultimate cheeseburger, a second chicken noodle soup and Steve’s chicken noodle soup.

The "Soup-er Bowl" trophy, awarded this year for the taco chili.

This whole idea of a “Soup-er Bowl” was the brainchild of my friend Mike, who volunteers as CVLHS acting development director. Mike is one of those guys who is always giving back to the community. He remains a strong supporter of the Lutheran high school even though his eldest son graduated from there several years ago.

Wanting to connect the congregations that are part of an association supporting CVLHS, Mike came up with the soup competition. Last weekend five of the member churches held local contests with the two top winners from each church advancing to yesterday’s finale.

Soup and chili samples were placed onto vintage metal trays for each diner.

Unfortunately, I was out of town last weekend, or I would have entered a soup. Mike has already invited me to participate next year. But after tasting all of the excellent soups and chilis on Sunday, I’m hesitant to vie against so many great cooks. I might simply remain a taster.

I love soups. Each year for the past seven, my sister Lanae has hosted an autumn soup party at her Waseca home. While she doesn’t award a trophy for the best soup, the winners are really us, the invited guests. Last year we could choose from 17 homemade soups spread out on tables in her and husband Dale’s garage. Click here to read all about her 2010 soup party.

When I heard about the CVLHS “Soup-er Bowl” gathering, I wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to eat soup and support the school. For $5, diners got small samplings of each soup or chili, breads and sweet treats, along with beverages.

The party was not only a fundraiser for the school but, more importantly, an evening of fellowship, organizer Mike said.

Diners packed tables in the Bethlehem Lutheran Church fellowship hall to taste 10 soups and chilis and then vote for their favorite at the CVLHS "Soup-er Bowl" party.

He’s right. I met car salesman/chicken farmer/chef Steve when I sat at the same table as him. Now my name is on Steve’s list to contact when his chickens are ready for butchering next summer. I can already taste that delicious chicken noodle soup…

By the time I went through the line, the vintage trays had all been used, so seven soups and chilis were crammed onto an oval plate. I later picked up the remaining three to sample. My sister also uses vintage trays at her party.

HERE’S THE RECIPE for Green Chili from eighth grader Louis:

Green Chili

Brown hamburger. Separate hamburger from juice and let juice sit.

Sauté celery, white and green onions, jalapenos, cilantro, green peppers, black pepper and hamburger juice.

Put hamburger and vegetables in pan and add green tomatoes and stir until finished.

NOTE: Louis did not list specific ingredient amounts, so I guess you need to figure that out for yourself.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Part II: One hour to pack, a flood survivor’s story

EDITOR’S NOTE: Today I bring you the second in a series of stories from a survivor of the flood five months ago in Hammond, Minnesota. Tina Marlowe and her family were forced from their home on September 24, 2010.

We pick up where we left off in my last post with the family fleeing their tiny community as floodwaters rose, engulfing their home.

 

A flooded portion of Bridge Street (Wabasha County Road 6) on the west side of the Zumbro River in Hammond, photographed at 7:30 a.m. on Friday, September 24, 2010. The river was still rapidly rising. Photo by Susie Buck.

LEAVING, AND RETURNING TO, HAMMOND

Ordered to evacuate, the family drove to a friend’s house in nearby Rochester and then booked a hotel room. After the river crested later that day, they returned to Hammond where the National Guard was blocking every entrance into town.

“We were told that the water had not subsided, our town was not safe, we would not be allowed back in that day, and ‘you really do not want to see what was happening to your town,’” Tina says.

But that didn’t stop Tina’s fiancé, Micheal Mann, who grabbed the family’s 35 mm camera, dogged the guard, and hiked the cemetery hill and down again as close as he could get to photograph their house.

He reported back that the water had risen, broken the bank at the bend behind their house and that the river was “flowing” down their street.

 

The intersection of Wabasha County Road 11 and Second Avenue in Hammond, photographed by Susie Buck at 7:45 a.m. on Friday, September 24, 2010, from her neighbor's yard. Waters are rising from the storm sewer onto the road and yards. The black Blazer is leaving Hammond on the only route out of town. By the time Susie was told to evacuate around 8:30 a.m., the route was too flooded for cars to drive through. She lost her 2008 Chevrolet Malibu in the flood.

THE NEXT DAY

On Saturday, the family was allowed back into their house for one hour to grab essentials and rescue their pets. I’ll allow Tina to tell you about those 60 minutes.

“When we got in we tried to grab our cat, Tigger, but he was totally freaked out. He ran to his usual hiding spot—the basement. Still full of water (with only about four steps visible), the cat hit the water hard and immediately started crying as you heard the pitter patter of his paws desperately trying to swim. Then suddenly I heard nothing. Devastated and in shock, I just watched the cat drown.

But, we only had an hour, so I had no choice but to direct my attention to the issue at hand—all the clothing, dry food, animal food, medicine, and affects that I could carry. Stuffing duffle bag after duffle bag, we were in survivor mode.

Much to our surprise, in the midst of concentrating and sobbing, there was a riotous yelp from the basement and what looked to be a large, wet rat came dashing up from the basement. Crying in relief, we caught Tigger and dried him off. Somehow he had survived his swim.

Unfortunately when we were evacuated Friday, it was chores day. Amongst other things, the fish bowl had not gotten cleaned and he subsequently died on Monday despite my efforts to keep feeding him. Hammond had no clean water and I could not bring him with us.

 

This photo taken by Jenny Hoffman on the morning of Saturday, September 25, 2010, shows the entrance to the basement in Susie Buck's house. Susie's basement was flooded and water rose 8 - 15 inches into her main floor. The white tote was sitting on the basement floor before the flood, but rose with the floodwaters. Three days later, when the waters receded, the tote settled back onto the basement floor. The books inside were dry. Susie lives across the street from Tina Marlowe and her family.

DECISIONS

In the light of the situation, we quickly decided that my 16-year-old would have to quit volleyball. Not knowing what was going to be happening from day to day, or where we would live from day to day I just couldn’t even begin to figure it all out. Her friend’s mother volunteered to let Cassie live with her temporarily so she could finish out the season. Knowing how important it is to try and keep their lives as normal as possible, I agreed.

I also called the bus barn and arranged to have Christian (her 7-year-old son) picked up at the closest bus stop to Rochester and I drove my kids to that stop every day so that they could continue to go to Plainview-Elgin-Millville. On top of the nightmare we were living, I did not want to change their schools.

We lived in three different hotels until November, when we found a landlord who was willing to rent us a house on a month-to-month lease, with pets. That is an impossible task, and thank God Julie came along. It was a huge relief to move into that house in Rochester, where we stayed until we moved back home.

I cannot begin to tell you how stressful it is to live in a one-room hotel with four people, and only two burners and a microwave to cook with.”

MINNESOTA PRAIRIE ROOTS readers, I will continue to bring you Tina’s story in future posts. Please check back.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Part I: Tina’s story, surviving the Hammond, Minnesota, flood March 13, 2011

EDITOR’S NOTE: With the heavy snowfall in Minnesota this winter, residents are eying our state’s rivers, watchful and concerned about spring flooding that is all but imminent. Some forecasters are predicting the worst flooding in 35 years. With that in mind, I bring you the first in a series of posts about one family displaced last September by a flash flood in southeastern Minnesota. Read what it’s like to live through such a natural disaster and ponder what may lie ahead for many other Minnesotans.

I HAVE NEVER MET Tina Marlowe of Hammond.

But I can tell you this strong woman impresses me with her resilience and positive attitude.

Tina and her family survived the September 2010 flash flood that ravaged their southeastern Minnesota community, displacing nearly all 230 residents. In January I e-mailed Tina, a good friend of Katie Shones of Hammond whom I’d met two weeks after the flood. I expected a brief response from Tina. I got, instead, a 4 ½-page e-mail that brought me to tears.

I promised Tina then that I would share her story because it needs to be heard. She speaks with a strong voice, edged with raw, honest emotion. She speaks from the heart and with the soul of someone who will not allow this setback, this destruction of her home and upheaval in her life, to get her down.

And so we begin Tina’s story, some of it condensed, other parts unedited. I’ll bring her story to you in installments. Ponder her words. Consider how you would handle what Tina has been through in the past five months. And then, if you are moved to action, do what you can to help the residents of Hammond and nearby Zumbro Falls, who are still reeling financially and emotionally from the devastating floods of September 2010.

 

The river bank is to the left of the garage in the very left of this photo. The 100-plus-year-old former Hammond House Hotel on the right saw floodwaters reach the ceiling on the first floor. Its owners had never seen the river so high. They are not returning to their home. This photo was taken at 7:30 a.m. on Friday, September 24, 2010, by Hammond resident Susie Buck.

THE BACKGROUND: TINA’S HOME

Two years ago, as the economy worsened, Tina and her fiancé, Micheal Mann, and two children moved to Hammond, into the home of Mike’s parents, Bob and Cathy Mann. In the spirit of “taking care of family,” Tina says they could survive more comfortably if they lived together. So they have, in an early 1900s house which the elder Manns have called home for three decades. They finished remodeling and updating just two years ago. The house sits in the 500-year flood plain along First Street, the second street west of the Zumbro River bridge on one of the highest elevations on the “low” side of Hammond.

Their house should have been “safe” from floodwaters, even more so because it is elevated three feet above the ground.

However, the basement was engulfed in water and the main level was flooded with 3 – 4 inches of water rushing in from the Zumbro River.

The family was displaced for three months and moved back home shortly after Christmas.

 

A view of Bridge Street (Wabasha County Road 6) taken from County Road 11 that runs through Hammond at 7:30 a.m. Friday, September 24, 2010. Photographer Susie Buck once lived with her family in the white house on the right when they moved to Hammond on September 24, 1961. In the spring of 1962, the family had to move from their rental home due to flooding. Susie was only two years old at the time. She heard stories from her parents about the water level rising in the basement as they were trying to remove the water heater. In the September 2010 flood, the water rose well above the windows on the main floor.

THE EVACUATION

Tina and her family got orders on Friday, September 24, Micheal’s birthday, to leave their home due to the rising floodwaters.

Here’s their evacuation story, in Tina’s words, beginning with events on Thursday, September 23:

“Although Bob (Mann) told me he has seen the river this high before and was reassuring me that it would crest soon and we would not see any flood water, I was starting to have my doubts.

I went home and cooked dinner. After dinner we walked down to the bridge to check the river and our friend’s land on Bridge Street was starting to flood, which wasn’t too unusual. But, by 11 p.m. the water was rising faster—rather than receding—and finally some sandbags and the Elgin Fire Department showed up.

Mike and I helped with sandbagging until about 1 a.m. At that point I had been awake for nearly 30 hours. Mike looked at me and said, ‘I’m tired and you’re tired, we have to go get some sleep. We may have a long day tomorrow.’

 

A view of the raging Zumbro River, looking from the west side of Hammond to the east at 7:30 a.m. on Friday, September 24, 2010. Floodwaters eventually destroyed the gravel road on the east side of the river and flooded homes and businesses. The canoe landing on the east side is also totally engulfed in floodwaters. Photo by Hammond resident Susie Buck.

 

 

Logs jammed against the bridge in Hammond. Water completely covered the bridge during the flood. Photo by Jenny Hoffman.

When we got to the bridge on Friday morning, the water was hitting the rafters under the bridge and whole trees where coming down the river, crashing into the bridge. It was terrifying to feel our bridge shake beneath our feet. We could not get down to the bar or cross town. The river had sliced right through Hammond, dividing us into east and west.

We could tell by the rage of the river that it was not finished yet and Mike and I decided to get home and run to Rochester to get supplies for the day ‘before we can’t get out of here at all.’ As we were walking home, the flood water was literally following us up Main Street right to our house.

As we rounded the corner of our house the fire department met us at the front door informing us of the mandatory evacuation and we were advised that we had 15 minutes to move our vehicles to high ground, grab essentials and pets, and get out before the water trapped us.

We did that, and rescued our neighbor who was still sleeping, exhausted from sandbagging all night. We drove my 4WD Jeep through over three feet of water. In that jeep we had five adults, two children, one full-grown rottweiler, two cats, some clothes for each of us, and a white wedding dress. We left one cat behind (we couldn’t catch him in time) and a fish, and we had no idea when we would be back. Happy Birthday Mike…”

CHECK BACK FOR FUTURE installments as Tina tells how her family and community were affected by the flood and where they’re at today.

Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A Minnesotan, safe in Japan, for now March 12, 2011

EVER SINCE I HEARD yesterday of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, I’ve prayed for the people of Japan and specifically for a young Minnesota woman living there.

I’ve known Haidee, a Christian outreach worker and English teacher there, since she was born in 1986. She grew up with my oldest daughter, came to my house for birthday parties. She’s the second eldest of my pastor’s children—strong, confident and on fire for the Lord.

So this morning, rather than call her parents lest they give me bad news, I phoned a friend to inquire about Haidee. Thankfully, in answer to my ongoing prayers, my friend shared that, for now, Haidee and her roommate are safe.

You can read about Haidee’s experience by clicking here.

Unfortunately, this native Minnesotan’s home of Fukushima, Japan, is also the site of a nuclear plant. An online news report I just read states that tens of thousands are being evacuated from the area because of the threat of a nuclear meltdown.

I cannot imagine living with such possibilities. But if anyone can remain strong through this epic disaster, it is Haidee with her unshakable faith.

She has managed to maintain her sense of humor. Haidee ends her Friday, March 11, 9:34 p.m. blog post with this: “And now I’m signing out…because we’re going to go walk around and look for bathrooms. People survived walking to outhouses for years, right? :)”

Photos of my 1970s Japanese pen pal, Etsuko Tamura, pasted in a photo album.

IN ADDITION TO HAIDEE, I’ve worried about Etsuko Tamura, whom I honestly have not thought about in decades.

Yesterday after I heard the news about the Japanese disaster, her name popped into my head just like that. She was my pen pal during the 1970s, when writing to someone overseas was a popular hobby for young girls. We stopped corresponding 35 – 40 years ago.

Through her letters, Etsuko showed me the world beyond rural southwestern Minnesota.

Now I am seeing her devastated world through the lens of a news camera and online from citizen-shot videos. And I wonder, all these decades later, whether she’s OK.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Bratty Boy Scouts March 11, 2011

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APPARENTLY I’M NOT ALONE in noticing, appreciating and photographing interesting signs.

After reading my post this week about the Antique Maul in Sleepy Eye, photographer Harriet Traxler of rural Carver e-mailed a photo of a sign supporting the Boy Scouts. The only problem—read the words the “wrong way” and they take on an entirely different meaning.

Here’s the sign Harriet spotted several years ago in front of a garden store along U.S. Highway 212 between Chaska and Cologne, Minnesota.

“I did a double take and had to turn around and get a couple of photos before they changed it because I knew it wouldn’t be there the next day and it wasn’t,” Harriet says. “Sometimes it is all in how you read it!”

Brats (as in food) or brats (as in bratty Boy Scouts)?

But Harriet wasn’t finished sharing her silly word stories. “We were once on a road trip to Florida and we stopped at a small cafe in Georgia to have breakfast,” she says. “No one in our group knew what ‘grits’ were so several had to try that (cereal like cream of wheat). Someone at the next table saw a sign on the counter that said ‘Polish Sausage’ and asked the waitress how they ‘polished their sausage.’ We are still laughing at that one.”

SO HOW ABOUT YOU? What humorous or intriguing signs have you spotted while you’ve been out and about? Watch for them. You’d be surprised how many can have double meanings.

© Text Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

© Photo Copyright 2011 Harriet Traxler

 

Tasteless strawberries and wilting lettuce March 10, 2011

I LOVE FRUITS AND VEGETABLES.

But I don’t always love the quality of the fruits and vegetables I find in the grocery store. In my opinion, they are often sub-par.

Because I live in Minnesota, I am not all that educated about fresh fruits and vegetables. Our cold climate and short growing season limit our native selections. We rely on “imports” from Florida and California and other much warmer places.

That said, I have no idea when growers pick oranges or strawberries or fill in the blank here. How mature, or immature, is the fruit?

Are oranges, like bananas, harvested when they are green? How about strawberries? Muskmelon? Is all fruit plucked before it’s ripened?

I raise that question because I bought a pound of Florida strawberries the other day that looked oddly, unnaturally overripe. Yet, I didn’t see any telltale mold. My husband theorized that they were “picked green and gassed.”

Is fruit really “gassed,” and what does that mean?

 

A few of the Florida strawberries from the pound I purchased.

The strawberries were rather tasteless, but added a jolt of color to my lettuce salad. If you live in Minnesota or any other cold climate, you’ll understand the need for a jolt of color this time of year. (It’s been a long, cold and snowy winter.)

That brings me to the lettuce. I doled out $2.99 for a bunch of Romaine lettuce at the same time I bought the strawberries. Normally I would pass on Romaine priced so exorbitantly high or even consider substituting iceberg lettuce (which I quit buying years ago because I prefer whole wheat to Wonder bread).

I was willing, though, to pay the $3. I wanted, needed, a Romaine salad. Unfortunately, the selection was not good. Small bunches. Wilted leaves and leaves edged with black. I chose the best and hoped I wasn’t throwing away my money.

 

I had already peeled off several layers of lettuce leaves before I took this photo. What are those brownish spots?

Well, I threw away about three salads worth of lettuce as I peeled off the layers of leaves to reveal what I term “rust.” I have no idea what the brown spots are inside lettuce leaves, nor do I know why leaves are sometimes tipped with black. I just know that I can’t eat it.

This frustrates me.

How many times have you purchased bad lettuce or fresh fruit that ends up in the garbage? I bet you’ve all tasted “baseball” hard peaches or pears and nectarines that never ripen and are as crunchy and dry as cardboard. One bite and in the trash they go.

So why are fruits and vegetables like this?

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS on the quality of today’s fresh fruits and vegetables? I’d like to hear your insights and your experiences.

 

Sliced strawberries, cucumbers and Amablu Gorgonzola cheese added to Romaine lettuce made a perfect salad. I topped the salad with lemon poppyseed dressing.

FYI: Amablu Gorgonzola cheese is made at Faribault Dairy in Faribault, Minnesota, where it is aged in sandstone caves along the Straight River. This is home to America’s first blue cheese plant, dating back to 1936. The award-winning cheeses produced in my community are among my favorite cheeses.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A sweet treasure in downtown Lamberton March 9, 2011

DRIVE INTO ANY SMALL TOWN, U.S.A., and you’ll likely discover a treasure that the locals take for granted.

For instance, in Lamberton, Minnesota, I recently spotted a vintage sign on a beautiful brick building along the town’s main drag. I didn’t have much time to investigate as the guys in the car were anxious to keep moving. But we stopped long enough for me to snap a few photos and peer through the front window and door of Sanger’s Bakery.

 

This sign, suspended from Sanger's Bakery, first drew me to the building.

Inside, time stood still. An old 7-UP clock hung on the wall behind empty glass bakery cases fronted by one vintage stool (that I could see). Boxes of candy sat on the counter. I almost expected the baker aka ice cream and candy seller to walk into view, open the door and let me inside.

That, of course, was wishful thinking.

The bakery is closed, although men gather here in the morning for coffee, I’m told. You won’t find doughnuts or cinnamon rolls or loaves of freshly-baked bread, just coffee and conversation at the coffee klatsch.

Now, if I had discretionary cash, I’d buy this place, spiff it up a bit, but not too much to ruin its charming character, and reopen the combination bakery, ice cream parlor and candy store.

I could see the possibilities in that weathered sign, in the stunning brick building and in that single, empty stool.

 

The bakery's front window.

The bakery sits on a corner. I took this building side view through the closed window of the car, after we had driven around the block.

An up-close shot of the lettering on the bakery I wish was still open.

IF YOU KNOW ANYTHING about Sanger’s Bakery or have memories of patronizing this business, please submit a comment. I’d like to learn more about this former bakery which I consider a small-town treasure.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A glimpse of winter on the Minnesota prairie March 8, 2011

 

Traveling U.S. Highway 14 west of New Ulm to southwestern Minnesota.

I NEEDED A TRIP to southwestern Minnesota this past weekend, as much to be with extended family as to reconnect with the land where I grew up. I was not disappointed, on both counts.

I embraced the family I love as we talked and laughed and talked and laughed some more while celebrating my middle brother’s 50th birthday until just past midnight on Saturday.

Sometime in between, we joked about the possibility of being snowed in on his Redwood County acreage. Snow was in the forecast and we all know that snow on the prairie, combined with wind, could strand us.

By the time we finished breakfast mid-morning on Sunday, the flakes were flying and U.S. Highway 14 was dusted with snow, enough to cause cautionary travel as my husband, son and I headed east back to our Faribault home.

Fortunately, we drove out of the snow even before reaching New Ulm.

Every time I visit the prairie, I realize all over again how harsh winters are out there and how very different they are from the winters I experience in southeastern Minnesota. Honestly, if you saw the drifts and plowed ridges of snow along Highway 14 and the endless vista of wide open spaces that stretch like a sea of white, you would understand.

Join me on this visual journey along a section of the Laura Ingalls Wilder Historic Highway between New Ulm and Lamberton. These photos don’t even do justice to winters on the prairie because we weren’t traveling in a prairie blizzard. But, in these images, you can envision the possibilities…

 

Railroad tracks run parallel to Highway 14 as the land stretches under spacious skies.

In some spots along U.S. Highway 14, the snow is piled higher than vehicles.

Snow had been pushed into rows in fields along Highway 14, acting as natural snow fences.

The wind sculpted drifts along the snow fences.

The snow had been pushed into mountains so high that only the top portion of Family Foods was visible from Highway 14 on the eastern side of Sleepy Eye.

Snow pushed off Highway 14, as seen through the windshield of our car.

Visibility was reduced as we traveled along U.S. Highway 14 Sunday morning near Lamberton, creating this surreal image of the local grain elevators. The top seven images were taken on Saturday.

We were thankful the lights on this sign, on the east side of Springfield, were not flashing Sunday morning. During severe winter weather these lights are activated and roads are closed to keep motorists safe.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The mysterious message at the ANTIQUE MAUL in Sleepy Eye March 7, 2011

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BECAUSE I’M A WRITER, I notice misspelled words. When I traveled through Sleepy Eye a few months ago, I spotted the improper spelling of “mall” on a building along U.S. Highway 14, the main route through this southwestern Minnesota town. Instead of “mall,” the building was tagged ANTIQUE MAUL.

At first glimpse, I noticed only the misspelled "ANTIQUE MAUL."

So Saturday, when my family passed through this community of 3,644, I had my camera ready to snap a few images of the spelling error out the front passenger side window as we drove by.

Not until later, when I was back home viewing the uploaded photos on my computer, did I realize I had captured more than a misspelling. I’m not certain exactly what I photographed.

My attention was quickly diverted from “MAUL” to the block letter message splayed across the front windows of the padlocked store: “Y WOOD THE LORD TRUST ANY ONE IN SLEEPY EYE? AS U DID TO BABY FAITH: YOU DID TO BABY JESUS!”

What is the meaning behind the strange messages on the windows?

I was stunned. Who placed this message on these windows for all to see? Who is baby Faith and what happened to her? What does this bold, apparently angry, statement mean?

I have no clue.

I called my husband to the computer to study the photo. He noticed more, graffiti scrawled on the windows: “R U A SPOOK…R U A SPY”

We are baffled. What is going on here at the ANTIQUE MAUL in Sleepy Eye?

Further study of the photo reveals bumper stickers plastered onto the padlocked door. They read:

“fight Air Pollution!…Gag a politician!…”

“No Nuclear Dump…”

“MN FAIR SAYS STOP Radioactive Waste…It glows on & on”

The bumper stickers point to an opinionated person with viewpoints that may not exactly fit into this conservative, close-knit, mostly- Catholic, Minnesota farming community.

I lived in Sleepy Eye in the early 1980s when I worked as a local newspaper reporter. I got a good feel for the community then. Maybe it’s changed. But, I’ll be honest here and tell you that, as an outsider and a Protestant, I never felt at home in Sleepy Eye. That feeling of exclusion, but mostly a less-than-ideal work environment and a better job offer at a nearby daily prompted me to leave after only six months.

I don’t know the exact pulse of Sleepy Eye today. But you’ll still find a solid Catholic foundation here which includes a parochial school, a retreat center and a church. I expect the beliefs of that population base are reflected in the pro-life signs edging this town. I appreciate and admire the public stand residents in this area make for unborn babies and their right to life. I support them.

That focus on babies takes me back to that strange, strange message at the ANTIQUE MAUL: “Y WOOD THE LORD TRUST ANY ONE IN SLEEPY EYE? AS U DID TO BABY FAITH: YOU DID TO BABY JESUS!”

I can’t imagine anyone feeling such animosity toward the people of Sleepy Eye. These are, from what I remember, good, honest, hardworking folks. The statement is so condemning.

(Just as a side note, if you recall, Sleepy Eye was the focus of world-wide attention in 2009 when then 13-year-old Daniel Hauser fled Minnesota for California with his mother to avoid court-ordered chemotherapy treatments for his cancer. The family, members of a spiritual organization that promotes natural healing methods, later changed their minds and Daniel underwent chemotherapy.)

The Hauser story has nothing to do with the topic of this post. I mention it simply to point out that even in rural areas (and maybe more so there), individuals have strong opinions and they’re not afraid to voice them.

Does anyone out there know who’s voicing an opinion on the storefront windows of the ANTIQUE MAUL and what, exactly, those words mean?

I would really like this mystery solved and an explanation for the messages I find all too unsettling for a small town in southwestern Minnesota.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling