Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Honoring President Jimmy Carter & a related personal story January 8, 2025

President Jimmy Carter in 2014. (Photo credit: LBJ Presidential Library)

HONEST. COMPASSIONATE. HUMBLE. All describe President Jimmy Carter, who died December 29, 2024, at the age of 100 and whose national funeral will be held Thursday at the Washington National Cathedral. A private funeral and burial will follow in Plains, Georgia.

In many ways, the name of Carter’s hometown, Plains (minus the “s”), describes this soft-spoken man. He was the son of a peanut farmer, grew up in a house without electricity or indoor plumbing, took over the family farm upon the death of this father. Having grown up on a family farm, in a home without a bathroom and closely rooted to the land, I understand Carter’s plain beginnings.

That Carter would go on to become governor of Georgia, the 39th President of the United States, winner of the Nobel Peace Prize and a beloved humanitarian proves that anyone can come from the plainest of places and make a positive difference in this world, emphasis on the word “positive.”

Peace on a tombstone at Valley Grove Cemetery, rural Nerstrand, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2024)

BUILDING A LEGACY OF SERVICE

Certainly, Carter was not perfect—no one is—but the legacy he leaves is, at its core, that of service to others. We should all strive for that. To do good. To help others. To show love, kindness and compassion. For Carter, nowhere was that more evident than in his post-presidency work with Habitat for Humanity. He didn’t just pose for photo ops. He picked up a hammer and actually helped build Habitat houses.

He also built world peace. During his presidency, Carter helped negotiate a peace treaty between Israel and Egypt in 1979. His efforts led to signing of the Panama Canal Treaty in 1977. His work in the areas of peace, democracy, human rights, and economic and social development earned him that coveted Nobel Peace Prize.

Blessed are the peacemakers” fits President Jimmy Carter. This is a tombstone at Valley Grove Cemetery, rural Nerstrand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2024)

AN INTERNATIONAL CRISIS & MY CONNECTION

I was just finishing college and starting my career in journalism when Carter was in and ending his presidency. In 1981, while working as a newspaper reporter for the Mankato Free Press, I covered a major national event with a Carter connection. That was the homecoming of Bruce Laingen, one of 52 Americans held hostage for 444 days in Iran. Laingen, a native of Minnesota, was the top American diplomat at the U.S. Embassy in Tehran when protesters stormed the embassy in November 1979. Carter tried unsuccessfully to get those hostages released. On January 20, 1981, the day President Ronald Reagan was sworn into office, the hostages were finally freed. The timing of that release was obviously deliberate. Carter’s re-election bid failed in part due to the hostage crisis.

In my work as a reporter for the Free Press’ St. James News Bureau (my apartment) I covered the southern Minnesota angle on that international crisis. I drove from St. James to nearby small town Odin several times to interview Arvid Laingen at his business, the Odin Feed Mill. We talked about his brother Bruce and his captivity in Iran. I remember photographing Arvid against the feed mill backdrop, American flag draped from the building. When Bruce and the other hostages were released, I joined my regional editor and a Free Press photographer in covering Laingen’s homecoming parade in Odin. Well wishers lined the streets on that cold winter day. Yellow ribbons, which had become a national symbol of hope during the hostage crisis, ringed trees.

My work as a young journalist for a regional southern Minnesota daily newspaper connects me indirectly to President Carter. I admire Carter’s efforts to free the hostages. I can appreciate how defeated he must have felt as days ticked by and the Americans remained in captivity. But he did not let defeat define him. Carter went on to do incredible work worldwide after leaving the highest office in the country. Anyone who remains humble and serves selflessly earns my respect. Carter was clearly a man of integrity, of principles, of faith, someone who never forgot his roots. If only others in public office followed his path of plainness…

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A few book suggestions related to yesterday’s post

Inspiring messages on a house in small town Dundas, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2020)

I’M FOLLOWING UP on yesterday’s post focusing on the book Our Hidden Conversations—What Americans Really Think About Race and Identity by Michele Norris to recommend four related books. But before I get to those books, I must share that Norris will be in Minnesota on Monday, January 20, as the keynote speaker for the Martin Luther King Jr. Holiday Breakfast at the Minneapolis Convention Center (Exhibit Hall A). The event begins with networking and mingling from 7-7:30 a.m., breakfast from 7:30-8 a.m. and a program from 8-9:30 a.m. The celebration also includes music by Grammy award-winning Sounds of Blackness and a special collaborative performance by Threads Dance Project and Vocalessence. For more information about this 35th annual MLK breakfast, click here.

Now the books:

Book cover sourced online.

1959 (reprinted) Edition of The Negro Travelers’ Green Book—Guide for Travel and Vacations

I checked this facsimile of The Negro Travelers’ Green Book out from my local library. This guidebook lists, state by state (and in Canada), the hotels, motels, restaurants, tourist homes and vacation resorts where Blacks were welcome in 1959. This list is revealing and sometimes surprising. And clearly, it’s unsettling to read, understanding the discrimination against Blacks that existed not all that long ago.

Book cover sourced online.

The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grissom

This New York Times bestseller published in 2010 tells the fictional story of life on a tobacco plantation beginning in the late 1700s from the perspectives of a slave (the daughter of a White master and his slave) and an indentured servant (an orphan from Ireland). Although a work of fiction, The Kitchen House is historical fiction, thus rooted in truth. This is a difficult read. But it’s also an inspiring book that speaks to the strength of the human spirit, the love of family and resilience.

Book cover sourced online.

So you want to talk about race by Ijeoma Oluo

Another New York Times bestseller, this one published in 2019, is in my reading stack. The title, So you want to talk about race, pretty much explains the content. The book was gifted to me by someone who left it in my church mailbox. I am grateful. I expect I will gain new insights from reading this book about race.

Book cover sourced online

Winter counts by David Heska Wanbli Weiden

This award-winning book published in 2020 has been in my reading stack for some time. I am half way through reading Winter Counts and already know I need to recommend this fictional book. Why? The storyline takes the reader onto the Indian Reservations of South Dakota. But what stands out for me is the authenticity of the writing. Author David Heska Wanbli Weiden, an enrolled citizen of the Sicangu Lakota Nation, knows of what he writes.

I am not only reading an intriguing novel about a vigilante set on justice for the Lakota community in dealing with illegal drugs and other issues. But I am learning about Lakota culture, beliefs, language and challenges, and a reclaiming of Native identity. This book has proven both educational and eye-opening.

TELL ME: Have you read similar books that you recommend I read? Please feel free to share with a brief summary of the book (s). I’m interested in any genre and in books for children to middle and high schoolers to adults.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A traffic stop & conversations about race & identity January 7, 2025

Book cover sourced online

EARLY ON A RECENT WEEKDAY MORNING, my husband was pulled over by a deputy sheriff while driving to work. Randy had no idea why he was being stopped on the edge of Faribault. The officer who approached the passenger side of our rusty 2005 white van and rapped on the window did not immediately tell Randy why he pulled him over.

But the questions and actions that followed left me unsettled and thinking about what could have unfolded. You see, I was in the middle of reading Our Hidden Conversations—What Americans Really Think About Race and Identity by Michele Norris, creator of The Race Card Project. That partially prompted my adverse reaction.

As I listened to Randy’s retelling of the traffic stop, I felt thankful that he is a past-middle-aged White guy. I felt a bit guilty for thinking that. But…

Randy, in his work jacket and uniform, was just driving to work at his job as an automotive machinist when he was pulled over and questioned. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

DO YOU HAVE A WEAPON?”

After requesting the usual identifying documents, the officer asked Randy where he was going, where he worked, whether his address was current and how long he’s lived there. All seemed odd questions. But the next question proved even more unusual. The officer, peering into the van, asked Randy if he had a weapon. Thinking he was referring to an item on the floor between the seats, Randy leaned down and said, “No, it’s a snow brush.”

My immediate reaction to this part of the story was this: “You did what? You could have been shot!”

The deputy wasn’t referencing the brush on the floor, but what he thought was a weapon lying on the passenger seat. He reached inside the van and moved a pair of gloves aside to reveal the case for Randy’s glasses. The supposed gun.

I wasn’t there. I don’t know what was going through the deputy’s mind before and during the traffic stop. But I do recognize what could have happened had the cop felt threatened.

Only after all of this and after the deputy ran a license check did he tell Randy why he’d been stopped—because the brake light in the middle of the tailgate door was not working. Randy has since replaced the bulb.

Posted on a house in small town Dundas. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2020)

THE “WHAT IFS?”

Why am I sharing this story? It’s not because I’m anti-law enforcement. I appreciate and respect our police and the important work they do in serving our communities and keeping us safe. Yet, had Randy been a person of color in the wrong place on the wrong day with an officer who perceived his actions as a threat, this traffic stop may have ended differently. Again, I’m not criticizing this specific cop or law enforcement in general.

Admittedly, Randy should not have reached toward that snow brush. But it is not ingrained in his mind to limit his movements, to think about how his actions may be perceived. Black men, especially, cannot risk such behavior. That I understand based on conversations with my son-in-law, who is biracial; on traffic stop shootings of Black men; and on the stories shared in Our Hidden Conversations—What Americans Really Think About Race and Identity.

A Dakota prayer focuses on reconciliation at the Dakota 38 Memorial in Reconciliation Park, Mankato. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

READ OUR HIDDEN CONVERSATIONS

If you read one book in 2025, I encourage you to read this one. The author, who grew up in Minneapolis, is a well-respected, award-winning journalist and former host on National Public Radio. For 14 years, Michele Norris has collected responses to this prompt: Race. Your story. 6 words. Please send. Those responses, submitted on specially-printed postcards and online, shape Our Hidden Conversations. This ranks as one of the most powerful books I’ve ever read on race and identity and should be required reading for every American.

Norris does not focus solely on Blacks in her collection of stories shared by thousands. She also writes about the discrimination, the prejudices, the challenges faced by many others. One entire section, for example, is devoted to Indigenous Peoples. That includes information about long ago Indian boarding schools (specifically the one in Morris, Minnesota) and about the 38 Dakota men who were hung in Mankato, Minnesota following the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862. She writes about Japanese internment camps in America during WWII. She writes about challenges faced by people with disabilities. This is hard stuff. But so necessary to read, to understand the backstory, the history and how things have, and have not, changed. The author writes about lynching, about adopting Black babies, about Blackness perceived as a threat…

The lengthier sections penned by Norris are interspersed with shorter stories from those responding to The Race Card Project prompt. The six word responses are scattered throughout the pages, printed exactly as submitted. One mother wishes her Black son was a girl.

An especially bright spot with an uplifting message in a downtown Faribault pocket park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)

PAINFUL & REVEALING

I cannot even begin to tell you how painful it was at times to read the heartbreaking words printed in this book. It seems unfathomable that we as human beings can treat others with such inhumanity simply because of skin color or other differences. Yet, I saw myself in some of those words, specifically in the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) racially-charged words that I heard and repeated as a child. I didn’t understand then that the rhyme I was reciting or the term my dad used for Brazil nuts were offensive. I recognize that now.

Like many others quoted in this book, I am determined to grow my knowledge, listen, treat others with respect and compassion, recognizing that we can all do better. I want that for my soon-to-be-born grandson, whose father is biracial, whose mother is White. I want him to grow up in a world where color matters not, where he is appreciated and valued for who he is (and not judged by his skin color), where he doesn’t have to think about what could happen if he is someday pulled over during a traffic stop.

© Copyrighted 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Catching the rebound January 2, 2025

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Playing basketball in North Alexander Park, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

IMAGINE FOR A MOMENT that I’m a sports reporter. That’s a big ask since I’ve never written a sports story—unless you consider a feature on now WCCO TV sports director Mike Max a sports story. I interviewed Mike, 14, and his brother Marc, 9, in 1979 about their baseball card collection, which numbered in the thousands.

I digress. Today I want to focus on basketball, a game I mostly understand.

Imagine a team driving the ball down the court. Dribbling and passing. Closing in on the basket, a player shoots, but misses. The ball bounces off the backboard into the hands of a teammate. He then shoots and scores to win the game. The player, who’s just come off the bench after recovering from an illness, is suddenly surrounded by cheering fans. All because he caught the rebound.

This recounting is totally fictitious. There was no game. But there was a rebound. Mine. I am currently in the midst of COVID rebound, meaning I have COVID again. Within a week of symptoms abating and testing negative for COVID, I’ve developed symptoms and once again tested positive for the virus.

What are the odds? Some sources say one in five can experience COVID rebound.

So here I am, back in isolation, my body fighting the coronavirus. My symptoms this time are different. This rebound bout started with feeling congested coupled with sneezing, lots of sneezing. Sneezes so strong they could flatten a building. I’m also tired. Symptoms of my initial infection were post nasal drip, sore throat and severe coughing. I took the antiviral Paxlovid, which quickly killed the coughing and, I’m convinced, kept me (along with the vaccine) from getting sicker. I would take Palovid all over again. And, no, the antiviral did not contribute to my rebound case, based on the research I’ve done.

Why did I catch the rebound? Who knows? I’m no athlete. Never have been, never will be.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Five especially memorable personal moments in 2024 December 31, 2024

Time passes… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THE END OF A YEAR always evokes a time of personal reflection. A time to consider the events, the moments, the feelings, the blessings that stood out in the 366 days passed. I’ve selected five, from the many, that happened in my life. Certainly, there’s much more that affected me personally. But these are ones that imprinted deeply upon me.

My unborn grandson’s room, photographed at Thanksgiving. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)

1. A BLESSING BREWING

The year 2024 brought incredibly joyful news to my family. That news came in a six-pack of all natural & locally brewed craft beer from Big News Brewing Co. My second daughter and her husband brought the beer in August, when they arrived from Madison, Wisconsin for the annual Helbling family reunion.

I was excited to taste this beer from a new brewery (so I was told) in Madison. I pulled out a bottle, read the label, BABY Boyd IS BREWING—ARRIVING JANUARY 2025, and realized this was no ordinary beer. I was about to become a grandma for the third time. Miranda and John pulled off the surprise. I was so focused on the journalistic aspect of the Big News Brewing Co. name that I totally missed the bare baby feet graphics on the necks of the bottles. Soon that baby boy will arrive.

A message from Barb, published in the memorial folder at her funeral. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2024)

2. THE BLESSINGS OF FRIENDSHIP

On the flip side of birth is death. And in 2024, I lost a dear friend, Barb, to cancer. We have been part of the same couple’s bible study group for some 20 years. I’ve lost track. As she neared the end of life, Barb and her family opened their doors wide so family and friends could come and go. We carried in meals and, more importantly, love. Barb, no matter how awful she felt, always had time for visitors. Her strength, her unwavering faith, her cheerful attitude uplifted all of us. She understood the value in being together, of approaching death with courage and faith. Of saying goodbye.

But it was after Barb’s funeral, as her casket was wheeled out of church to the waiting hearse, that I felt the full blessings of the friendship we (and by “we” I mean our bible study group) shared. Barb had chosen the guys as pallbearers. We six women stood side-by-side waiting as our husbands gathered around the casket. I stretched out my arms, motioning for my friends to come close, to wrap our arms around one another. There we stood, a line of women linked. Linked in grief, friendship and love. It was a powerful moment.

Flags for countries of origin displayed at a past International Festival in Faribault celebrating my community’s diversity. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

3. A BLESSING FROM A NEW FRIEND

Also powerful was the moment I met a Venezuelan immigrant while on a walk in Faribault’s Central Park. Adolfo was pushing his one-year-old grandson, Milan, in a stroller when I paused to greet them. I learned that Adolfo had fled violence and Communism in his home country and wanted desperately to get his family to America. His pain was palpable. “We’re so happy to have you here,” I told my new friend. Adolfo responded with a broad smile and the words “God bless you” as he made the sign of the cross and held his hands to his heart. I will forever cherish that moment and the memories of the morning I met Adolfo and Milan in Central Park.

A graphic of the first coronavirus. Source: CDC

4. BLESSING ANOTHER

I am also grateful for the opportunities I’ve had in 2024 to encourage a young man, whom I’ll call J, in his struggles with long haul COVID. A friend, after a short conversation in a grocery store parking lot, connected me to J’s mom and from there the door was opened. I understand how devastating this diagnosis. I spent six months in vestibular rehab therapy in 2023 trying to overcome the many debilitating symptoms of long haul COVID. I’m better now, but still experience residual, primarily with sensory overload issues.

J’s case is much more severe than mine, especially physically. He had to drop out of college, used a wheelchair, struggled with overwhelming symptoms too numerous to mention. I tried to offer him hope, support and encouragement. Empathy, compassion and understanding. I also referred him to my physical therapist, whom J is now seeing. Few people understand this chronic condition, or even make an effort to understand, which makes working through long haul COVID even harder. That I could take my experiences and help J, and his mom, has helped me, too. I can see the good in a very difficult year in my life when I was basically home-bound. Empathy and the capacity to help others grows with each challenge we face in life.

Randy and I with the mandala our son crafted for us. (Copyrighted photo by Caleb Helbling)

5. BLESSED WITH LOVE

Finally, my last memorable moment of 2024 came just recently with a Christmas gift from my son, who was visiting from Boston. Caleb gifted Randy and me with a mandala he laser cut from plywood, stained and glued together. Six layers. When I realized what it was, I wept. I cried because of the love Caleb’s gift represents. I cried because I recognized the time, effort and thought he put into crafting this artwork for us. Hearts theme the piece. It speaks “family.” If art can capture love, this mandala holds endless love.

And so 2024 ends. A year that brought joy and sadness. But also a year overflowing with love…from family to friends to community.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Reflecting on letters from first graders: All they wanted for Christmas

Santa at Souba Greenhouse, Owatonna, during their “Christmas on the Farm.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo December 2024)

MAVERICK WANTED ONLY THREE THINGS for Christmas, so he wrote in a letter to Santa published recently in a Minnesota weekly newspaper. The first grader wanted a sled, a “lizard that climbs up the wall” and 100 packs of Cotton Candy Bubblegum. Did he get all three? I doubt it. But what Maverick did get from me was laughter, especially for that bubblegum ask. But, hey, I understand. I loved Bazooka bubblegum as a kid. Maverick and I would get along splendidly, if he agreed to share his bubblegum.

Every year I look forward to the letters to Santa Claus published in The Gaylord Hub, a small town weekly newspaper where I worked as a reporter and photographer fresh out of college with a journalism degree in 1978. Today that paper still arrives in my mailbox weekly, much to my delight. The community where I was affectionately called “The Cub from The Hub” will always hold a special place in my heart.

And those Santa letters, oh, those letters, what joy they bring me each December They are the stuff of a small town newspaper. I imagine parents clipping the published letters and years later pulling out the yellowed newsprint to share with their grown children.

I’VE BEEN GOOD, SANTA. BUT MOM?”

“I have been good for 3 days,” writes Sibley East first grader Sophia before asking for a toy remote control plane. Three days? I wonder if Santa had to think about that statement. If anything, Sophia was apparently being honest.

But then there’s Adelyn, who wasn’t as much concerned about her behavior as her mom’s, although she claims to have been “good.” Adelyn asks Santa, “Is my mom on the naughty list?” Cue the laughter from me…and maybe Mom.

Cats and canines were a popular gift request to Santa. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS…

First graders are, if anything, unfiltered and honest. And they don’t hesitate to ask for whatever they want. It seems a lot of these kids wanted pets—specifically ten asked for cats or kittens, six for dogs and one, a guiny (sic) pig. That last request came from May. My guess is that most kids did not get the animals they wanted, except those asking for a robot dog or a toy dog.

Then there were the unusual gift requests. Erik wanted a chainsaw. I expect Santa nixed that pretty quickly considering age appropriateness. Dalton asked for a diamond, a rather odd request from an elementary school student. Violett wanted a camera that looks like a unicorn. Is there such a thing? Oliver asked to “get in the Titanic for Christmas,” which I wouldn’t recommend even if the Titanic was still afloat.

Plated Christmas cookies at a holiday event in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)

Kaelyn asked Santa for an iPhone, a Barbie toy and 5 cookies. No problem there, except with the phone, which I wouldn’t give to any of the five first graders who asked for one. I think Santa may have felt the same. But the Barbie toy and cookies? No problem. Santa has plenty of cookies to share. He probably gave Kaelyn more than five. And he likely had enough Barbie goods to give away.

Alia and May’s requests for make-up, though, gave me pause and I bet it did for Santa also. No first grader needs make-up for her sweet little face.

Kids are always interested in Santa’s reindeer and the elves. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2023)

SWEET WORDS FOR SANTA

I love how several kids proclaimed their love for Santa. “I love you, Santa!” exclaimed Holden. Such sweet words likely proved reaffirming for the overworked, underpaid Santa Claus. Kieren stepped up the compliments. “Santa, you are awesome!” he wrote. “Thank you for giving us presents.” Awww, gratitude goes a long ways with Santa as does praise for his reindeer. Gauge bravely asked if he could come to Santa’s house because he really wants to meet the elves.

Candy canes and Christmas go hand-in-hand, here theming a Christmas tree in Faribault’s Central Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo December 2024)

AND THEN THIS REQUEST

And then there’s the letter from Allison, who said she’s been helping her mom with the baby. She asked for only one thing—a candy cane. That broke my heart. One. Thing. I hope Santa gave her a hundred candy canes, several dozen cookies and a surprise gift that brought Allison, a good, kind (her words) and selfless soul, unfathomable Christmas joy. She, among all those letter-writing first graders, deserved a special gift.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The Christmas that wasn’t December 30, 2024

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This shows a snippet of a Christmas card I received in 2023. To me it represents the gathering of family, all back home for the holidays. (Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2023)

I WANT A CHRISTMAS DO-OVER. Yup, 2024 marked the Christmas that did not happen. I’m not referencing the real reason for Christmas of celebrating Christ’s birth, but rather family time together. Due to illness, my core family could not gather.

I was over my COVID by Christmas, testing negative the day prior. But by that time, my son, a son-in-law and the grandkids were ill with influenza, which they presumably picked up at an extended family holiday gathering. Many others became ill, too, following that event. I didn’t attend due to my COVID. Our daughter is sick now and the granddaughter is still recovering.

Tis the season to spread viruses. And this Christmas seems worse than any I can recall in recent memory.

A plane arrives at Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

The hardest thing through all of this, besides missing celebrating Christmas, was not seeing my son until a week after he arrived in Minnesota from Boston. But I didn’t want him here while I had COVID. And then he got sick. Finally, by the end of Christmas week, my mama’s heart could hold no more sadness. Except for occasional coughing, Caleb was through the worst of his illness. I had to see him.

I bought flowers (not this particular bouquet) for my eldest daughter, who had been caring for a houseful of sick family all of Christmas week. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2016)

So off Randy and I headed to our eldest daughter’s house late Friday morning, Christmas gifts stuffed into a cardboard box, banana bread packed and a bouquet of flowers in hand for Amber. Upon our arrival 35 minutes later, we unloaded the goods into the entry, the daughter, son-in-law and grandkids keeping their distance in the living room. Caleb watched the kids open their gifts from him while Randy loaded his suitcase and backpack into our van. I stepped indoors briefly, then waited outside.

Once we were all out of the house, Izzy and Isaac came to the front window and waved goodbye. There would be no hugs, only those sweet waves, which was better than nothing.

At this point, I was just happy to see my son and have some time with him before he flew out two days later. He worried that he might make Randy and me ill. I told Caleb that we were willing to take the risk because I needed to see him. I think most mothers would understand that. I cherish my time with my son given we see each other only once or twice a year. I am not one of those moms fortunate enough to have her kids all living in their hometown or nearby. That said, I am aware that some moms are grieving children who have passed or are estranged or cannot, for whatever reason, return home for the holidays. I’m sorry for the sadness and pain they feel at a time like Christmas.

The Boston skyline photographed from Tufts University. Randy and I traveled there in 2016 to attend Caleb’s graduation. He now lives and works in greater Boston. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2016)

The time I had with Caleb was brief. But it was enough. There were meals together. Conversations. Tears. Laughter. Love, lots of love. An unexpected gift from him of a massive mandala he laser cut, stained and glued together brought me to tears. Hearts theme the art. To me it represents family love. And the love of a son. The son I had to see. The son I hugged good morning and goodnight and then goodbye early Sunday evening as we dropped him off at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport for his flight home. Home to Boston. Not Minnesota.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Celebrating the bald eagle locally, elsewhere in Minnesota & now nationally December 26, 2024

A bald eagle photographed in Faribault by the Cannon River. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo March 2018)

THE BALD EAGLE IS NOW America’s official national bird as of a bill signed into law on Christmas Eve. And that’s exciting, especially for Minnesota, home to the National Eagle Center in Wabasha and home to the second largest population of eagles in the US, behind Alaska.

The National Eagle Center in Wabasha. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)

I expect this designation will draw more visitors to Wabasha. I last visited the Eagle Center in 2014 and need to return as it was recently expanded and updated, building on an already impressive place to learn about eagles.

Up close with an eagle at the National Eagle Center along the Mississippi River in Wabasha. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)

Wabasha’s National Eagle Center not only houses rehabilitated resident eagles (used in programming), but also features eagles in art, history and more. I’m all about learning more about a bird which I never tire of seeing. There’s something about an eagle soaring that imprints upon me a sense of awe.

The Bicentennial Eagle by A. Giannelli inside the National Eagle Center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)

On Christmas Day, as Randy and I sat home alone eating French toast (instead of a ham dinner due to illness in the family), I looked out the dining room window to see a large bird flying directly toward our house. Even as high as the bird flew, I recognized it as an eagle. Soon I spotted a second trailing eagle.

Just south of Union Lake Trail along Rice County Road 46, a bald eagle watches me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2018)

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen bald eagles simply by looking out windows in my south Faribault home. I’ve watched an eagle glide low past our picture window. I’ve seen one a block away flying at treetop level. Several blocks up the hill, an eagle flew above Fourth Avenue Southwest. I’ve observed an eagle following the course of the Straight River while dining at The Depot Bar & Grill. On Faribault’s north side, I’ve spotted eagles flying near the Cannon and Straight Rivers. On the way to Dundas, eagles perch in a nest visible from Minnesota State Highway 3.

Eagles perch in a tree near Waseca. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2012)

I’ve seen eagles in other areas of Rice County and in Waseca County. They are seemingly everywhere throughout Minnesota.

Glimpse of a bald eagle in a lakeside treetop south of Crosslake in central Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

To the north in the Brainerd lakes area of Central Minnesota, eagles once nested in a tree at a family member’s lake cabin. The nest fell in a storm, but the eagles relocated along Horseshoe Lake. So there’s still plenty of eagle watching at the cabin.

Eagles suspended from the ceiling and a view of the Mississippi River from the second floor of the National Eagle Center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2014)

We once nearly hit a bald eagle south of Hackensack as it lifted off the shoulder just as our van passed. Let me tell you that seeing the massive wing span (from 5 to 8 feet) of an adult eagle passing across your windshield is not only startling, but scary. Fortunately, the eagle cleared the windshield. Near Kenyon another grazing-on-roadkill eagle took flight within seconds of our van striking it. Aside from those close encounters, eagle watching has proven pleasant.

My photo of an eagle and dove at the Rice County Veterans Memorial now hangs in the Minnesota Veterans Home, Bemidji. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I also appreciate how bald eagles are incorporated into many veterans memorials as symbols of America and of freedom. I’ve photographed many of those memorial eagle sculptures, including one right here in Faribault. Today that photo from the Rice County Veterans Memorial graces a wall at the new Minnesota Veterans Home in Bemidji. along with five other veterans memorial photos I took. What an honor to have my work displayed there for veterans and others to appreciate.

The bald eagle at the vets park in Morristown flanked by flags. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

The bald eagle symbolizes freedom and strength. Now to have this majestic bird as our national bird seems fitting. And long overdue. The bald eagle is a powerful symbol connected to democracy. To see an eagle soar is to see freedom soaring.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

My Christmas message for you December 25, 2024

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
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A HOPE Christmas ornament, which is too heavy to hang on the tree. So I hang it on a drawer knob. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo December 2024)

HOPE. It’s a word that holds expectations, the promise of something better. And it’s one of my favorite words.

Today, Christmas Day, my hope is that you are celebrating in a way that is joyful and meaningful to you. Perhaps you are with friends or family. Maybe you are alone, far from loved ones. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I hope you understand how much you are cherished. Every. Single. One. Of you.

The older I grow, the more I realize how much we need each other, how connections make life so much richer, better.

Through my writing and photography, I’ve connected with people I would not have otherwise “met.” I have forged friendships across the country that have widened my world to new places, new perspectives, new experiences. What a blessing.

Hope and blessings fill my life. Today, Christmas Day, as I celebrate Christ’s birth as a woman of faith, I also celebrate you and what you mean to me. You are a gift.

Merry Christmas to each of you! May hope and joy fill your day.

Audrey

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Forgiveness on December 26 December 24, 2024

This limestone sculpture by Thomas Miller depicts a Dakota warrior. It sits across from Reconciliation Park in Mankato at the Blue Earth County Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

FORGIVE EVERYONE EVERYTHING.

Powerful words on a bench at the Dakota 38 Memorial in Reconciliation Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

Those uppercase engraved block words, white against red on a stone bench at the Dakota 38 Memorial in the heart of downtown Mankato at Reconciliation Park, hold the strength of a people who really have no reason to forgive. But they choose to do so. And in forgiveness comes healing.

The names of the 38 Dakota men hung in Mankato are listed on the Dakota 38 Memorial. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

December 26 marks the date in 1862 when 38 Dakota men were hung near this site along the Minnesota River in America’s largest mass execution. Originally, 303 Dakota were sentenced to death following “trials” (the quotes are intentional) after the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862. President Abraham Lincoln reviewed the list of those sentenced to death, approving the hanging of thirty-eight. Thousands gathered to watch the execution on the day after Christmas 162 years ago.

Up close, names of the Dakota who were hung. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

This history I learned early on, but only from a White perspective and only because of my roots in southwestern Minnesota, at the epicenter of the war. I expect many Americans, including many Minnesotans, to this day know nothing of this conflict that killed hundreds of Whites and Dakota. Internment and exile of the Dakota followed. Native Peoples suffered because of the atrocities before and after the war.

A massive limestone sculpture of a white buffalo in Reconciliation Park represents the spiritual survival of the Dakota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

This is history I’d encourage everyone to study. And not just from a one-sided perspective. I won’t pretend that I am fully-informed. I’m not. I do, though, have a much better understanding than I did growing up. I’ve read, listened, learned. I know of stolen land, broken treaties and promises. Starvation. Injustices. Demeaning words like those attributed to a trader who told starving Dakota to “eat grass.” Andrew Myrick was later reportedly found dead, his mouth stuffed with grass.

A sign in Reconciliation Park directs visitors to the many sites around Mankato focused on reconciliation and remembrance. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

But back to those three words on that stone bench in Mankato: FORGIVE EVERYONE EVERYTHING. The Dakota truly have no reason to forgive. But they choose to do so. I’ve learned that forgiveness is part of Dakota culture and beliefs.

An overview of the location of Reconciliation Park along Riverfront Drive in Mankato, along the Minnesota River and across from the public library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

In the month of December, the attitude of forgiveness extends beyond words in stone to an annual horseback ride honoring the 38+2 (two more Dakota were sentenced to death two years later). This year, two rides—The Makatoh Reconciliation & Healing Horse Ride and The Dakota Exile Ride, the first originating in South Dakota, the other in Nebraska—will end on December 26 with gatherings at Reconciliation Park and the Blue Earth County Library, located across from each other.

Just down the street from Reconciliation Park, murals on the Ardent Mills grain silos celebrate the diversity of Mankato, including that of the Dakota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

These rides focus on educating, remembering, honoring, healing and forgiving. Five powerful verbs when connected with the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862.

Katherine Hughes’ poem ends with the word “forgiveness.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

The poem “Reconcile,” written by Katherine Hughes and posted in Reconciliation Park, closes with this powerful verse: Hope for a future/When memories remain/Balanced by forgiveness.

A Dakota prayer in the park ends with the word “reconciliation.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)

FORGIVE EVERYONE EVERYTHING.

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FYI: Here’s the schedule for the December 26 events. A community gathering is set for 9 am-10 am at Reconciliation Park and the library. Horseback riders arrive at 10 a.m. A ceremony in the park takes place from 10 am-11:30 am. From 11:30 am-1 pm, a healing circle will happen at the library with discussion surrounding the events of December 26, 1862, covering the past, present and future. A community meal for the horseback riders, who rode hundreds of miles to Mankato, follows.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling