Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Now this is the kind of Minnesota winter day I like February 29, 2016

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SATURDAY BROUGHT A RESPITE from winter. An unbelievable respite as the temperature rocketed to new record highs throughout Minnesota. At the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, the high temp of 56 degrees broke the previous high of 54 degrees set 120 years ago on February 27, 1896.

Pulling into the Dairy Queen, I snapped this temperature sign Saturday afternoon, February 27.

Pulling into the Dairy Queen, I snapped this temperature and time sign on Saturday afternoon, February 27, in Faribault.

It was a glorious day. Simply glorious. Here in Faribault, where I photographed a digital temperature reading of 55 degrees at 3:22 p.m., it seemed more a spring day than the middle of winter.

Eastbound on Minnesota State Highway 60 in Faribault Saturday afternoon.

Eastbound on Minnesota State Highway 60 in Faribault Saturday afternoon.

I spotted motorcycles and convertibles, folks in shorts and shirt sleeves.

And in my backyard, the sun shone so bright right after lunch that I wanted to curl up like a cat and sleep. Outdoors. On my back steps. Just feet from snow piles.

I set my peanut buster parfait on a table in my patio to show the backyard contrast of seasons. The white background patches are snow, the green, lawn.

I set my peanut buster parfait on a table on my patio to show the backyard contrast of seasons. The white background patches are snow, the green is lawn.

Hours later, my husband and I were pulling up to the Dairy Queen for peanut buster parfaits. The DQ had just opened and was offering a special. The place was busy. But not as busy as the next door car wash. There vehicles waited a dozen deep in two lines. Randy decided to wash our van and car at home, the old-fashioned way with a hose and bucket of water.

That was Saturday.

This Dairy Queen sign equates the difference in temps from Saturday (hot for Minnesota winter standards) to Sunday (normal for winter).

This Dairy Queen sign equates the difference in temps from Saturday (hot for Minnesota winter standards) to Sunday (normal for winter).

Sunday morning brought a drastic shift in temperatures, to the normal range for this time of year. Thirty-five degrees.

Snow flakes fell fast and furious around noon on Sunday. This shows my neighbor's evergreens and flag.

Snow flakes fell fast and furious around noon on Sunday. This shows my neighbor’s evergreens and flag, photographed from my back steps.

Around noon, a burst of snow reminded me that this still is winter in Minnesota. Even if we experienced a glorious spring-like day on February 27.

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Enough to scare the blank out of you February 26, 2016

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Semi view 1

 

AT FIRST GLANCE, you likely are questioning my sanity in photographing a semi seemingly headed directly at the vehicle in which I am a front seat passenger.

If I did not understand the context of this image taken in October, I, too, would be screaming at myself to get the blank out of the way.

But things are not always as they seem.

This is actually a photo of a semi cab hooked to a cab traveling along Interstate 90 near the Rochester exit in southeastern Minnesota. Now imagine if my husband hadn’t been paying close attention. He may have thought the semi was aiming toward us and took evasive action. Thank goodness someone (not me) in our vehicle was fully alert and not fooled by an optical illusion.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Bibby Bobbie Bibster bumper sticker February 25, 2016

 

Turbo Tim's Anything Automotive bumper sticker

 

EVERY BUMPER STICKER writes a story.

So what’s the story with the bumper sticker on the right, spotted while waiting at a stoplight in Burnsville a year ago?

The grammar police in me wanted to correct this sentence: My car sucks my Mechanic is on speed dial!” to “My car sucks. My mechanic is on speed dial.”

But, hey, it’s just a bumper sticker, I considered, and opted to focus on the message. The humor clearly works.

As much as words draw my attention, the cat graphics prompted me to learn more about Turbo Tim’s Anything Automotive. What’s a cat got to do with an auto shop in Northeast Minneapolis?

A lot apparently. A black cat, Bibby Bobbie Bibster, according to Turbo’s website, has been a certified Shop Kitty since 2011 and has worked the waiting room for the past three-plus years loving up customers.

That explains the black cat.

There’s one more thing. Slap a Turbo bumper sticker on your vehicle and you’ll get 10 percent off your bill up to $50 for the life of the car.

Based on reviews, Turbo Tim’s seems a customer-friendly place with folks using words like “trustworthy, honest, reasonably priced” and more to describe their experiences.

I can’t personally vouch for the service, but have no reason to doubt the testimonials.

As for the marketing, I peg it as creative and memorable.

HAVE YOU NOTICED any especially creative bumper stickers?

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A forever road February 24, 2016

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Minnesota State Highway 68 near Morgan.

Minnesota State Highway 68 near Morgan. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2015.

WITHIN SOUTHWESTERN MINNESOTA, I occasionally travel sections of roadway that stretch visually into forever. One is the diagonal of State Highways 67 and 68 running from Evan through Morgan to Redwood Falls. It’s a distance of about 20 miles. But it seems much farther.

After years of following a section of that route back to my native Redwood County, I’ve realized that the flatness of the land along a road as straight as a ruler lengthens the distance in my mind.

Few farm places snug the highway. Trees stand only in groves sheltering farm sites. As far as I can see down the asphalt ribbon—and it’s a long ways—utility poles guard road ditches in precise vertical lines.

And because this roadway angles across the land rather than runs straight north or south, I feel geographically unbalanced. Any sense of direction is lost.

That all said, I delight in photographing forever roads like this which draw the viewer right into the scene. It’s as if I am writing poetry with my camera.

TELL ME, WHAT SECTION of roadway evokes this same reaction in you?

© 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Utica, not New York, but Minnesota February 23, 2016

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A farm site just minutes east of Utica.

A farm site just minutes east of Utica in southeastern Minnesota.

YOU NEVER KNOW what oddities will surprise you in a small town, which is precisely why I delight in exploring rural communities.

Utica, a town of about 300 located along U.S. Highway 14 between Rochester and Winona, definitely presented some attractions worth photographing this past September. I use the word “attractions” loosely. What I find interesting may go unnoticed by others.

I'm always happy to see a grain elevator that has been maintained and is appreciated.

I’m always happy to see a grain elevator that has been maintained and is appreciated. These are small town treasures.

It was the red and grey grain elevator jutting above Utica that drew my husband and me off the highway and into this community as a freight train roared through town.

Utica may not have a website, but it has this sign to tell you a bit about the town.

Utica may not have a website, but it has this sign to tell you a bit about the town.

From there we swung onto Main Street and noted that Utica was founded in 1858, if the signage on Utica Storage is accurate. We laughed at the “ELV. PRETTY HIGH” notation.

The law.

The law…

...up close.

…up close.

And, if not for Randy, I would have missed the 10 Commandments posted on the front of the building.

The "can't miss it" house.

The “can’t miss it” house.

Then, in a residential area, a Victorian house painted in lavender hues presided on a corner. I wondered for a second if it might be a tea house, but saw no such signage. Apparently the owner just really likes this hue given the outbuildings are also painted lavender.

This reminded me of my Aunt Marilyn, whose house is not lavender, but who loves the color. And I once worked with legendary Northfield News editor Maggie Lee, who wore only lavender.

Utica is definitely a farming community.

Utica is definitely a farming community.

Utica’s final attractions were two tractors—a wonderfully restored John Deere and a rusting Farmall—staged for sale outside a shed.

Now, if we’d taken the fast route home via Interstate 90, we would have missed all of this. Utica would remain just a sign along the interstate. I would know nothing of its character, its individuality, its colors.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Beyond a surface question February 22, 2016

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I converted this image to black-and-white and upped the brightness. This was shot on the Minnesota Highway 19 curve just north of Vesta, my southwestern Minnesota hometown.

Sometimes travel through life is easy. Clear vistas. Clear vision. Sunshine and goodness. But other times life isn’t good. Storms and challenges prevail. Yet, the question remains the same, “How are you?” Do you answer honestly, or do you pretend all is fine? (Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo from March 2012, photographed along Minnesota State Highway 19 just north of Vesta.)

“HOW ARE YOU?” I dislike that question. It’s trite and mostly a meaningless nicety.

Does anyone really want an honest answer?

When I’ve failed to respond with the expected “good,” eyes shift downward, feet fidget, uncomfortableness wedges in.

What if I’m not good? What if life isn’t great and fine and wonderful? Then what?

I will tell you I’m OK. And, if you’re listening, you may pause. Worry may fleet across your face. But, if you’re like most people, you won’t push. You’ll walk away.

Recently I told a friend I didn’t like the “How are you?” question. So now, whenever we see each other, she says, “It’s good to see you.” I like that. Those words are warm and welcoming and, because I know my friend, genuine.

Perhaps we all ought to try being a little more genuine with one another. Caring beyond casual surface conversation. Picking up on cues that maybe everything isn’t alright. And then, listening. Really listening.

If you ask the question “How are you?”, ask because you truly care. Not just to make polite conversation.

Thoughts?

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Oh, the lovely historic buildings of Weaver, Minnesota February 19, 2016

Another view of Carl and Marie Noble's studio and galleries.

The former Weaver Mercantile anchors Weaver.

MY KNOWLEDGE OF WEAVER is limited mostly to visual impressions. Digital images taken during a brief stop last September document an unincorporated Mississippi River settlement rich in history. That history reveals itself in aged buildings, like Weaver Mercantile.

Weaver United Methodist Church with the historic former schoolhouse next door.

Weaver United Methodist Church with an historic former schoolhouse next door.

A block or so away, Weaver United Methodist Church still welcomes the faithful into the congregation’s original house of worship. Except on Sundays when the temperature plummets to 10 degrees below zero or colder. The church building maintains its historic charm with modern touches, according to the church website. Indoor plumbing was only just installed in 2008.

The old schoolhouse is painted a lovely buttery yellow.

The old schoolhouse is painted a lovely buttery yellow.

Next to the church rests a lovely 1910 one-room schoolhouse, restored in 2008 by a couple for use as a get-away cottage and a weaving studio.

An unidentified building near the schoolhouse.

An unidentified building near the schoolhouse.

And then there’s an aged boxy building topped by a cupola. Perhaps a former creamery?

Even the schoolhouse bell tower was restored.

Even the schoolhouse bell tower was restored.

Places like Weaver—home to about 50 residents along U.S. Highway 61 north of Winona—intrigue me. I am always pleased to discover such settlements where remnants of history remain in aged buildings. I long to step inside these buildings, to open front doors like I am opening a book of stories.

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Murals & a myth at an historic mercantile in Weaver February 18, 2016

The historic former Weaver Mercantile Buiilding, once home to Noble Studio & Gallery.

The historic former Weaver Mercantile Building, once home to Noble Studio & Gallery.

AGED BUILDINGS, like one in Weaver just off U.S. Highway 61 in southeastern Minnesota, intrigue me. Initially, the architecture and photographic opportunities draw me in. But then I start thinking about the history and the stories.

Carl and Marie Noble opened Noble Studio & Gallery here in 1955.

Carl and Marie Noble opened Noble Studio & Galleries here in 1955.

As luck would have it, a local was jogging down the street toward the former Weaver Mercantile when I happened upon the historic building during an early September get-away. She tipped me off that the building last housed an art gallery. Signage confirmed that. The current owner, she added, lives on the second floor.

Historic designation came six years after Carl Noble's death.

Historic designation came six years after Carl Noble’s death.

The young woman also expressed her dream of someday transforming the place into a winery. She and her husband, she said, make wine from black caps growing wild on the hillside behind their Weaver home. Then she continued on her run through this unincorporated village of some 50 residents and I continued my exterior photographic exploration of this building listed on the National Register of Historic Places. According to the 1978 nomination for historic designation, the building is a “well-preserved example of commercial architecture in the Mississippi River Valley.” Hardware, groceries and dry goods were once sold in the first floor of Weaver Mercantile while furniture was sold on the upper floor. Additionally, the building housed the Weaver Post Office for many years.

A mural on the east side of the building denotes this as an artist's haven. Cannot you decipher the first word for me?

A mural on the east side of the building denotes this as an artist’s haven. Can you decipher the first word in the top portion, left?

Wanting to know more, I continued my internet search. In 1955, artist Carl E. Noble claimed this place as Noble Studio & Galleries (his home, studio and gallery). He died in 1972. An obituary for his widow, Marie Noble, who died 11 years ago, yielded the most information.

More signage toward the back of the building.

More signage toward the back of the building promotes Noble’s art.

Carl was, by the few accounts I found, an artist for the Federal Art Project of the Work Projects Administration in 1938. His name is listed among photos of FAP art in the Archives of American Art at the Smithsonian Institution.

Another view of Carl and Marie Noble's studio and galleries.

Another view of Carl and Marie Noble’s studio and galleries.

A muralist, cartoonist, illustrator and portrait artist, Carl Noble reportedly studied under Norman Rockwell (according to his wife Marie’s obit). I’ve been unable to verify that via a second source. However, the Nobles lived for awhile in Boston; Rockwell made his home in Stockbridge, MA.

The building was constructed in 1875 and opened as Weaver Mercantile.

The building was constructed in 1875 and opened as Weaver Mercantile.

I discovered that Carl painted six oil on canvas murals for Fire House, Southside Hose Co. No. 2 in Hempstead, New York, in 1938. The artwork depicts the history of local firefighting. Other than that, I’ve been unable to find other information of his WPA art or work at Noble Studio & Galleries. The former gallery itself, though, apparently showcases Carl’s murals on interior walls. If only I could have gotten inside to see and photograph his artwork.

One can only imagine the fun times here as guests enjoyed Marie's hospitality.

One can only imagine the fun times here as guests enjoyed Marie’s hospitality.

After her husband’s death in 1972, Marie opened a Bed & Breakfast in their home with a party area in the basement. That would explain the faded Mardi Gras Lounge sign above a back entry.

An overview of the Mardi Gras entry at the back of the building.

An overview of the Mardi Gras entry at the back of the building.

Marie reportedly regaled guests with stories, including that Jesse James robbed the Mercantile on his way to robbing the First National Bank in Northfield, Minnesota. Not believing everything I read, I contacted Mark Lee Gardner, noted historian, writer and musician on the western experience. He penned a book, Shot All to Hell: Jesse James, the Northfield Raid, and the Wild West’s Greatest Escape. He confirmed what I suspected. The story of the Weaver robbery is just that, a story.

Here’s Gardner’s response to my inquiry:

I’m afraid the story of Jesse robbing the building in Weaver, Minnesota, isn’t true. The Northfield Raid, as well as the known movements of the James-Younger gang, was heavily reported in the Minnesota newspapers at the time, and if they had been connected with a robbery in Weaver, it should appear in those papers. I never came across any mention of Weaver in my research. The other problem is that the gang didn’t go through Weaver on its way to Northfield. They are documented as having come from the west and south of Northfield.

…There are lots of Jesse James stories out there, and most of them are from someone’s imagination.

My first view of the former Weaver Mercantile and Noble Studio & Galleries.

My first view of the former Weaver Mercantile and Noble Studio & Galleries.

Still, none of this diminishes my appreciation for the Italianate style building in Weaver and my interest in the artists (Marie’s obit notes that she created many lovely paintings) who once lived and created therein.

The village of Weaver is located along U.S. Highway 61 north of Winona in Wabasha County.

The village of Weaver is located along U.S. Highway 61 north of Winona in Wabasha County.

IF YOU KNOW ANYTHING MORE about Carl and Marie Noble, their gallery and art or about the history of the building, I’d like to hear.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

“She loved the man who shot her…” February 17, 2016

Statistics on a The Clothesline Project t-shirt from the Minnesota Coaltition for Battered Women..

Statistics on a The Clothesline Project t-shirt from the Minnesota Coalition for Battered Women. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2015.

My sister was in love. She loved the man who shot her after running her down like an animal hunted for sport. This didn’t happen in a day or even a week or a year.

It happened slowly over the years with little hints of control…

Dear readers, please read these words and more on a GoFundMe page set up to cover funeral expenses for 28-year-old Trisha Nelson. This southern Minnesota native was killed on February 12 “in a horrific act of domestic violence” in Plymouth. Trisha is our state’s second known victim of domestic violence in 2016.

Tanya Fure writes her sister’s heart-wrenching story, with this advice:

I’m begging that if you are even thinking you might be in an unhealthy situation—SEEK HELP.

Tanya’s words are powerful as she now becomes the voice for her dead sister. The sister whose ashes she will now bury and scatter. By sharing her sister’s story, Tanya hopes to give others the strength to leave unhealthy relationships and to live. Free. Untethered from those who control and manipulate and abuse. And sometimes kill.

FYI: If you are in an abusive relationship or even think you are, seek help. You are so worth it. Contact a local crisis resource center or women’s shelter for help and support. If you are in immediate danger, call 911. Leaving an abuser is the most dangerous time; have a plan to leave safely. Additional information is available, for abuse victims, family, friends and survivors by clicking on any of these links:
National Coalition Against Domestic Violence
Minnesota Coalition for Battered Women (Gifts to MCBW are suggested by the family in Trisha’s honor.)
NO MORE

 

My view of “The Cities” February 16, 2016

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MINNEAPOLIS AND ST. PAUL. Two cities. The Twin Cities. Or, as I called them growing up, simply The Cities.

Frame 7: I love this painterly view of the Minneapolis skyline.

The Minneapolis skyline, Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo October 2015.

I am more familiar with Minneapolis, specifically south Minneapolis where an aunt and uncle lived until retiring to Arkansas.

Sailboats sit upon the waters of Lake Harriet.

Sailboats sit upon the waters of Lake Harriet. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo, September 2009.

About once a year during my childhood, our farm family would pile into the Chevy—Dad, Mom, six kids and Grandpa—to visit our metro dwelling relatives. And, on a few occasions during summers of my youth, I boarded the Greyhound bus in Vesta to travel solo some 140 miles to Minneapolis for one-on-one time with my Aunt Rachel. We would bike around Lake Harriet, tour the Rose Garden, catch a city bus to purchase fabric at Munsingwear.

The Minnesota state capitol

The Minnesota state capitol, Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

To the east in St. Paul, my youthful memories connect to the State Capitol building and Minnesota History Center, which I toured as a sixth grader. I waited in our farmhouse kitchen one dark spring morning for headlights to swing into the yard indicating my ride to Vesta Elementary School had arrived. My stomach churned at the thought of leaving Redwood County on a school bus bound for St. Paul.

Driving through St. Paul on a recent Saturday morning.

Driving through St. Paul on a recent Saturday morning.

Growing up in a rural area, I’ve never been particularly comfortable in big cities. Traffic and tall buildings and cement and closeness and busyness sometimes overwhelm my senses. But I manage and I appreciate the cultural opportunities a place like the Twin Cities offers, although I seldom take advantage of such offerings.

Creeping along in a congested area near downtown Minneapolis.

Creeping along in a congested area near downtown Minneapolis. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

My trips to The Cities are primarily through or around. To visit family.

Approaching St. Paul from the south, the speed limit drops.

Approaching St. Paul from the south, the speed limit drops.

Each city, I’ve observed, has a unique look and feel. Minneapolis appears urban while St. Paul seems rooted to the land with a deep sense of place and history. I feel more comfortable in St. Paul, where even the Interstate 35-E speed limit drops to 45 mph for awhile upon entering the city. In Minneapolis, traffic races along Interstate 35-W toward downtown.

For awhile, my eldest daughter and son-in-law rented an apartment in a high-rise in the Mears Park neighborhood of Lowertown St. Paul. It’s the happening place, akin to Uptown or Northeast Minneapolis. The daughter lived in Uptown prior to her marriage and subsequent move to St. Paul. Now she and her husband have settled in a northern burb.

I prefer gravel roads to interstates. My East Coast dwelling son appreciates the extensive mass transit system in Boston.

I prefer gravel roads to interstates. This scene was photographed while traveling under an Interstate overpass in St. Paul. My East Coast dwelling son appreciates the extensive mass transit system in Boston.

My rural roots, and those of my husband, have not threaded into the DNA of our offspring. All three of our adult children live in metropolitan areas—in Minnesota, Wisconsin and Massachusetts. They need to be where they are happiest and feel most comfortable.

Not where I wish they lived. Geographically close and far away from any place defined as The Cities.

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling