Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Memories of the June 13, 1968, Tracy tornado: “Pain, anguish and blood…” June 12, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:59 AM
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HE DOESN’T RECALL the details like it was yesterday.

Yesterday, after all, was 45 years ago.

Eric Lantz, 16, of Walnut Grove, shot this award-winning photo of the Tracy tornado as it was leaving town. He often took photos for the Walnut Grove Tribune, owned by his uncle, Everett Lantz. This image by Eric was awarded third place in the 1968 National Newspaper Association contest for best news photo.

Eric Lantz, then 16, of Walnut Grove, shot this award-winning photo of the Tracy tornado as it was leaving town on the evening of June 13, 1968. He often took photos for the Walnut Grove Tribune, owned by his uncle, Everett Lantz. This image by Eric was awarded third place in the 1968 National Newspaper Association contest for best news photo. Copyrighted photo courtesy of Scott Thoma with original copyright retained by Eric Lantz.

But for Mankato resident Steve Ulmen, certain memories of the aftermath of the deadly Tracy tornado of June 13, 1968, stick with him.

He was only 22 then, a college student and a senior member of the Mankato Civil Air Patrol squadron dispatched on a search and rescue mission to Tracy 90 miles away in southwestern Minnesota. They were the first responders, handling crisis management until other local and state officials arrived.

A residential street, once covered in branches and debris, had to be plowed to allow vehicles to pass. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma, Tracy native and author of Out of the Blue, a book about the Tracy tornado.

A residential street, once covered in branches and debris, had to be plowed to allow vehicles to pass. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma, Tracy native and author of Out of the Blue, a book about the Tracy tornado.

Ulmen remembers entering Tracy, feeling overcome by the sheer devastation. The F5 tornado, with wind speeds surpassing 300 mph, killed nine and injured 125. Destruction was massive.

“It looked like we were driving into a dump site, or a burned out slum, or what I would imagine a bombed out city would have looked like after World War II,” Ulmen recalls.

With experience as a hospital orderly, he was assigned to the emergency room at the Tracy hospital—removing victims from ambulances and placing them on gurneys and moving others around.

Some of the injured at the Tracy Hospital. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma.

Some of the injured at the Tracy Hospital. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma.

“There were victims coming in and lying on stretchers even in the hallways, as it was a small hospital,” Ulmen remembers. “Some were suffering from fractures, some from cuts and scratches. All were in one degree of shock or another and needed assistance and someone to talk to them and try and calm them down.

“There was pain, anguish, and blood, that I remember. As long as casualties kept coming in, we stayed on duty.”

The CAP squadron, comprised of cadets (high school age, 18 and under) to supervising senior members, volunteered for several days in the ravaged community. Among other duties, the patrol established a communications system based out of “an old military surplus deuce and a half 4-wheel drive vehicle” equipped with “radios of every description.”

Surveying the destruction at Tracy Elementary School, which was destroyed. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma.

Surveying the destruction at Tracy Elementary School, which was destroyed. Photo by The Tracy Headlight Herald and courtesy of Scott Thoma.

Ulmen remembers the satisfaction he felt in helping those in distress.

Among his memories, Ulmen recalls a particular incident, one he still wonders about now 45 years later. “I was driving either my vehicle or an emergency vehicle, I forget which, and I went through an intersection. The stop sign was bent and twisted from the tornado and wasn’t pointing at the street I was on; it looked like it was pointed at another street. Nevertheless, the local cop saw me run the stop sign, pulled me over, and gave me a ticket,” Ulmen says. “Some thanks for coming all the way from Mankato and volunteering my service to a community in distress. My superiors were not impressed with this either, but I ended up having to pay the ticket as I recall.

“It is funny what you remember from 45 years ago.”

FYI: The community of Tracy is marking the 45-year anniversary of the deadly tornado with special events on Thursday, June 13. Click here to learn more in a post published here several days ago.

To learn more about Steve Ulmen, who served with the CAP for 17 years until he was about 27, click here. Ulmen, who is retired after 34 years of working in the corrections field, is also a published writer. He’s written a western screenplay, later rewritten and published as his first western novel, Toby Ryker. He then published a sequel, Deadwood Days. His most recent works include a book of historical fiction, Blood on the Prairie—A Novel of the Sioux Uprising (actually the first book in the Toby Ryker trilogy), and Bad Moon Arising, a fictional story based on his experiences as the first probation officer in LeSueur County beginning in 1969.

Ulmen and his wife of 42 years, Ida Mae, live in Mankato, his hometown.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Yes, I sent this to Jay Leno June 11, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:53 AM
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I HOPE THE SON of my long ago boss possesses a sense of humor. When I received my June 6 issue of The Gaylord Hub, a community newspaper in Gaylord in southern Minnesota, I chuckled at the in-house subscription renewal ad published on the classified ads page.

Fortunately, I am not about to expire. Or at least I hope not.

Published in the June 6 issue of The Gaylord Hub.

Read the ‘Hub’scription ad published in the June 6 issue of The Gaylord Hub.

And, yes, I mailed this to The Tonight Show with Jay Leno for consideration.

Now, please continue reading of my association with, and deep appreciation for, The Gaylord Hub in a letter addressed to the current publisher and editor, Joe Deis.

#

Dear Joe,

Thirty-five years have passed since I arrived at your dad’s weekly newspaper fresh out of college with a journalism degree ready to set the world afire. Or at least Gaylord, Minnesota.

Your father, Publisher and Editor Jim Deis, set up a corner office furnished with a desk and chair and equipped with a phone and a Remington manual typewriter. He also handed me a stash of thin yellow paper upon which to type my news stories. (Yes, I can hear the quips about yellow journalism.)

Being the first reporter ever hired to cover happenings in Gaylord, I came to The Gaylord Hub in 1978 as a bit of a shock to the locals. Here was this 21-year-old out-of-towner suddenly asking questions, quoting public officials and seeking out stories beyond the usual Legion Fish Fry.

I was particularly disliked by the school superintendent; by a certain teacher, whom I quoted (how dare you do that) at a school board meeting; and by a local realtor, whom I had also quoted at a city council meeting. I will never forget their anger—which to this day I find totally unsuited to men in these positions. When you speak at a public meeting, expect to be quoted.

Your dad, bless him, totally backed me up. On everything. He knew my standards, my dedication, my journalistic ethics in getting it right. Today I still hold to the highest standards in decency, fairness and accuracy.

For two years I covered news and events in Gaylord, transitioning from greenhand to experienced in all aspects of community journalism—reporting to photography to lay-out to overseeing the final product at the printing plant to delivering the bagged newspapers to the post office.

I covered major fires (church, school and chicken barn), wrote about tragic accidents, sat through endless public meetings, found local angles in national news stories, covered the controversy over chicken barns and more.

Joe, I shall be forever grateful for your dad’s guidance those first years as a reporter. Every newbie needs a mentor and Jim was mine.

All these decades after exiting Gaylord for work at another weekly newspaper and thereafter a southern Minnesota daily, I still get The Hub each week. I read the familiar names, sometimes in the obituaries now (including your dad). And I think back on those long ago years of entering journalism shortly after Watergate was exposed by Washington Post reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein.

The profession was wide open then; I had my pick of jobs.

So much has changed. While community newspapers like yours still exist, many papers today are owned by large media companies. With that often comes a loss of community connection and care. Not always. But finances, more and more, take precedence over the editorial side. The internet, certainly, has factored into the demise of the newspaper as we once knew it.

Times change. I got out of the newspaper profession decades ago, knowing the long and odd hours would not be conducive to raising a family. My family became my focus and I’ve never regretted that choice.

Yet, during those years away, I never lost my passion for writing and have returned to writing, although not at a newspaper. (Click here to read a list of the projects I’ve pursued in recent years.)

All of that said, I find it remarkable, Joe, that you are carrying on the tradition of community journalism established first by your grandfather, Frank “Chick” Deis, and then by your father, Jim. Three generations running a small town newspaper. Outstanding, from my perspective.

Warm regards,

Audrey, “The Cub from The Hub”

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Remembering the June 13, 1968, killer tornado in Tracy, Minnesota June 10, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:51 AM
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Eric Lantz, 16, of Walnut Grove, shot this award-winning photo of the Tracy tornado as it was leaving town. He often took photos for the Walnut Grove Tribune, owned by his uncle, Everett Lantz. This image by Eric was awarded third place in the 1968 National Newspaper Association contest for best news photo.

Eric Lantz, then 16, of Walnut Grove, shot this award-winning photo of the Tracy tornado as it was leaving town on June 13, 1968. He often took photos for the Walnut Grove Tribune, owned by his uncle, Everett Lantz. This image by Lantz was awarded third place in the 1968 National Newspaper Association contest for best news photo. Copyrighted photo is courtesy of Scott Thoma with original copyright retained by Lantz.

TORNADO WARNING. Those two weather words, more than any other, cause me to panic. For good reason.

I was not quite twelve when an F5 tornado, with wind speeds surpassing 300 mph, struck the nearby community of Tracy on June 13, 1968. The twister left nine dead, 125 injured and buildings demolished.

I remember, a day or two afterward, our family piling into our Chevy for the 25-mile drive through southwestern Minnesota farm country to view the devastation. Twisted trees. Flattened homes and businesses. Boxcars haphazardly tossed.

This photo by the Tracy Headlight Herald shows a damaged boat and overturned car sitting atop the rubble after the Tracy tornado.

This photo by the Tracy Headlight Herald shows a damaged boat and overturned car sitting atop the rubble after the Tracy tornado. Photo courtesy of Scott Thoma.

A catastrophic scene like that impresses upon a young mind a deep fear and respect for the power of a tornado.

Added to the visual impact was my father’s spotting of the tornado from our farm those many miles to the north and east as he did the evening milking. He thought the twister was much nearer. Decades later, a less severe tornado would hit the farm place, and the community, where I grew up. Two summers ago, severe winds also ravaged my hometown of Vesta.

This Thursday, the residents of Tracy and others will gather to commemorate the 45th anniversary of the Tracy tornado touchdown.

The photo by Eric Lantz illustrates the cover of Scott Thoma's just-published book.

The photo by Eric Lantz illustrates the cover of Scott Thoma’s book.

Tracy native Scott Thoma of Willmar, who wrote Out of the Blue, a book about the Tracy tornado, is among those on the Tracy Tornado Memorial Committee and the coordinator for Thursday’s program. The June 13 event will feature an evening of remembrance and fundraising and a coming together of community.

At 7:03 p.m., the moment the killer twister touched down in Tracy, attendees will honor the nine who died with a moment of silence in Central Park. Thoma will read their names and a bell will toll for each: Ella Haney, 84; Mildred Harnden, 75; Barbara Holbrook, 50; Ellen Morgan, 75; Fred Pilatus, 71; Paul Swanson, 60; Walter Swanson, 47; Nancy Viahos, 2; and Otelia Werner, 75.

Longtime resident, the Rev. Homer Dobson, will “say a few words,” Thoma says.

A photographer for the Tracy Headlight Herald captured this scene at the demolished Tracy Elementary School.

A photographer for the Tracy Headlight Herald captured this scene at the demolished Tracy Elementary School. Photo courtesy of Scott Thoma.

I expect the commemoration will be an emotional event, and rightly so. Even with the passage of nearly five decades, grief lingers. And each time a tornado devastates a community and lives are lost, such as in Moore, Oklahoma (struck, like Tracy, by an F5), memories resurface, fear rises.

Besides remembering the nine, the community will continue raising funds for a new tornado memorial to replace the one falling into disrepair. Over $10,000 have been raised with about $5,000 more needed for the six-foot high black granite monument that will sit along U.S. Highway 14 near the “Tornado Tree” sculpture. That steel tree, built in 1989, replicates the original tornado tree, a gnarled elm that withstood the forces of the twister.

An artist's rendering of the tornado monument. The words on the bench will read "Tracy Tornado Monument" and an engraving of Eric Lantz's tornado photo will be etched below the clock and above the story. Image courtesy of Scott Thoma.

An artist’s rendering of the tornado monument. The words on the bench will read “Tracy Tornado Monument” and an engraving of Eric Lantz’s tornado photo will be etched below the clock and above the story. Image courtesy of Scott Thoma.

The new three-sided marker will feature the story of the tornado and a well-known photo by Eric Lantz etched on the front, according to Thoma. Names and ages of the tornado victims will be listed on another side. And on the back side, visitors will find a stone bench.

On all three sides, a clock will be etched into the stone, stopped at 7:03 p.m., the time the tornado reached the Tracy city limits.

The memorial is expected to be done this summer and unveiled during Boxcar Days, an annual community celebration, on September 2.

In the meantime, there’s still memorial money to be raised and Thoma is doing his part, donating $3 to the monument fund for every book sold. He is selling Out of the Blue from 11 a.m. – 3 p.m. Thursday at the Tornado Tree Memorial along Highway 14. Root beer floats will also be available with all proceeds directed to the memorial.

Thoma will talk about the tornado and his book at 4 p.m. at the Tracy Library. I read and reviewed Out of the Blue a year ago and you can read that review by clicking here.

As is customary with most small town events, there’s a meal involved in the Tracy tornado anniversary. Folks will gather at the fire hall from 5 p.m. – 8 p.m. for a “freewill donation potluck supper,” Thoma says. The Tracy Community Band plays at 7 p.m. across the street in Central Park. And at 8 p.m., somewhere in town, the Tracy Library will show the movie Twister.

If you’re interested in buying a copy of Out of the Blue and/or donating to the Tracy Tornado Memorial fund, email Thoma at scott@thomabooks.com or call (320) 894-6007.

You can also order his book online by clicking here.

If you lived through the Tracy tornado or have any stories to share about the storm, please submit a comment. I’d like to hear from you. Other comments are also welcome.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Bringing poetry to recreational trail users in Mankato & I’m in June 9, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 4:45 PM
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NOT EVERYONE EMBRACES POETRY. I get that.

But I appreciate how, in recent years, poetry has become more accessible to Minnesotans. Perhaps, in the process, a few non-poetry lovers have learned to like poetry, to appreciate its value as a form of expression, as an art, as a link to the past, and as a connection to each other and the land and emotions.

These new public poetry forms have surfaced on sidewalks, billboards, and in motionpoems, for example.

My artsy effort to illustrate this post.

My artsy effort to illustrate this post.

And now, in Mankato and North Mankato, poetry will be posted on signs along biking and walking trails as part of the newly-launched Mankato Poetry Walk and Ride.

I am delighted to have two of my poems—“Off to Mankato to ‘get an education’” and “The Thrill of Vertical” selected from among more than 120 submissions for this project supported by business and corporate sponsors and the cities of Mankato and North Mankato.

The contest was open to anyone living within a 45-mile radius of Mankato with suggested themes of CityArt sculptures, Mankato history or culture, nature and/or family and relationships. Lines were limited to sixteen with a maximum of forty characters per line. There were serious and humorous divisions for adults and general poems for several youth brackets.

I tapped into my past, my four years attending college in Mankato—Bethany Lutheran and Minnesota State University, Mankato—to write my winning poems:

Off to Mankato to “get an education”

With typewriter and suitcase
stashed in the trunk of the rusty Impala
alongside my blaze orange backpack,
I plow into Mankato from the farm.

Seventeen years old with barn scent
clinging to clothes, I settle in
with my cheerleader roommate
and her sprawling stereo system.

We share nothing in common,
except a love of art, hers visual,
mine an artful appreciation of words
clacking, line by line, upon paper.

Remember, this was the late 70s, dear readers.

You’ll need to visit Mankato to read my second poem, among the 27 selected during anonymous judging by Doris Stengel, past president of the National Federation of State Poetry Societies, and by Peter Stein, League of Minnesota Poets youth chairperson. The poems are expected to be in place by the end of June.

As a bonus, poets are recording their poems so bikers, walkers and others can pause along the trails and hear the poems read via their phones.

Bonus two, the Southern Minnesota Poets Society, which coordinated the contest, is publishing a chapbook of the winning poems.

I don’t have details yet on where my poetry will be located. But, be assured that when the poems are posted, I’ll head to Mankato to check mine out and some of the twenty-five others like “Everything is Sky Tonight,” “The Sounds of the Red Jacket Trail” and “Night Fishing.”

JUNE 11 UPDATE: My poems will be posted at the intersection of Glenwood Avenue and Division Street and at Hiniker Pond Park in Mankato.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Preserving a small town’s history in a Minnesota country schoolhouse June 7, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:24 AM
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The District #54 country school, built in 1870, was moved into Morristown several years ago to a site next to the old mill along the banks of the Cannon River.

The District #54 country school, built in 1870, was moved into Morristown several years ago to a site next to the old mill along the banks of the Cannon River.

OH, THE THINGS YOU LEARN upon visiting a grassroots historical society run by volunteers in a small town.

One of my favorite images is this one of volunteer Helen Newman's hand. She was cutting and taping info into the 2005 sesquicentennial book lying on the desk.

One of my favorite images is this one of 87-year-old volunteer Helen Newman’s hand. the life-long Morristown resident was cutting and taping info into the 2005 sesquicentennial album shown here.

Nothing against sprawling museums with paid staff—those places are fabulous, too. But there’s something especially touching about folks from a small town collecting photos and artifacts, memories and information, to display in a building(s) with a deep connection to the community.

You’ll find exactly that in Morristown, population around 1,000, in Rice County in southeastern Minnesota. Set next to the Cannon River are the Morristown Feed Mill, once home to a sawmill and flour mill, and the District 54 Epard School moved in from a few miles north of Morristown and today the District #54 Schoolhouse Museum. The Morristown Historical Society maintains both buildings, which I toured during the recent Dam Days community celebration.

I didn’t study the content of the two buildings like a local with an intimate connection to this place. Rather, I picked topics of particular interest to me to read and photograph.

Information about the Ku Klux Klan's presence in Morristown and the region.

Information about the Ku Klux Klan’s presence in Morristown and the region.

For example, I was unaware that my county of Rice was home to Ku Klux Klan chapters and hosted the first statewide Klan convention at the fairgrounds in August of 1924. Chapter #26 was headquartered in Morristown with other chapters in nearby communities like Faribault and Owatonna and Austin and Albert Lea further to the south. Certainly, such membership doesn’t please me. But I’m thankful the Morristown Historical Society didn’t ignore this negative part of the town’s history. We need to learn from our mistakes.

A “Morristown Crime Wave of 1914” display also caught my eye with crimes such as profane and abusive language, drunken and disorderly conduct, and stealing fish noted.

News stories about the devastating 1900 fire.

News stories about the devastating 1900 fire in downtown Morristown.

In another display, a front page article published in the February 1, 1900, issue of the Morristown Press detailed a devastating fire which destroyed 20 buildings, nearly the entire business district, in downtown Morristown. “Loss will reach $35,000,” a sub-head reads.

Mrs. Lydia Meehl, who helped so many Morristown area women birth their babies.

Mrs. Lydia Meehl, who helped so many Morristown area women birth their babies.

My friend Dale, who joined a historical walking tour on the day I visited the schoolhouse museum and mill, learned about his place of birth in the Meehl Maternity Home. Hundreds of local babies were birthed there with the assistance of licensed practical nurse Mrs. Lydia Meehl. A newspaper story quotes the 82-year-old Meehl as saying she “loves them all (the 500-plus babies born in her maternity home).”

A snippet of the artifacts and info displayed inside the schoolhouse turned museum.

A snippet of the artifacts and info displayed inside the schoolhouse turned museum. Those are Civil War cannonballs on the shelf near the center of the photo

In the museum collection, you’ll also find the usual military (including Civil War cannonballs), school, telephone and other small town artifacts.

Helen Newman and Cindy Packard work on a sesquicentennial album.

Helen Newman and Cindy Packard work on a sesquicentennial album.

As a bonus, I met 87-year-old Helen Newman, who’s lived in Morristown her entire life, and Morristown native Cindy Packard, visiting her hometown from Colorado Springs. The two were seated behind a hulk of a desk inserting info into an unfinished album about the town’s 2005 sesquicentennial.

Packard brought with her a few items for the schoolhouse museum, including a spatula imprinted with “Our Twentieth Year LLOYD’S FOOD MARKET, Morristown, Minn.” She kind of hated to give it up, but…

Switchboard wires and switches reportedly from Adolph Hitler's bunker.

Switchboard wires and switches reportedly from Adolph Hitler’s bunker.

Upon my request, the pair pulled the spatula and a snippet of wires and two switches from a plastic bag resting on the corner of the desk. The switches came from the switchboard in Adolph Hitler’s bunker and were brought back by Oscar Ahlman to Hewitt Thomspon in Morristown, according to a note accompanying Packard’s donation.

Helen and Cindy visit while they cut and tape information into the album.

Helen Newman and Cindy Packard visit while they write, cut and tape information into the album. I told them just to ignore me and my camera and they obliged. I simply love this photo of the pair.

And that’s how these small town museum collections grow—with donations from the likes of a hometown girl come home every year and the dedication of volunteers like the 87-year-old Newman.

BONUS PHOTOS:

There's something about an old school map that takes me back to Vesta Elementary School, my childhood school.

There’s something about an old school map that takes me back to Vesta Elementary School, my childhood school.

A display of school-related items includes a lunch pail.

A display of school-related items includes a lunch pail, books and photos.

Presidential portraits grace the blackboard by the teacher's desk.

Presidential portraits grace a corner blackboard by the teacher’s desk.

FYI: To read a previous post on the historic Morristown Feed Mill, click here. A second mill post will be forthcoming. Also check my recent archives for stories from Morristown Dam Days.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Kona Ice franchisee brings treats & fundraising to southern Minnesota June 6, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:42 AM
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IT WAS THE CATCHY carnival style music that first drew me to the window, to see the colorful tropical-themed ice cream truck parked across the street from my house on a cool Monday evening. Except this wasn’t exactly an ice cream truck, as I would soon learn.

The Kona Ice Southern Lakes truck parked across the street from my house on Monday evening.

The Kona Ice Southern Lakes truck parked across the street from my house on Monday evening.

I grabbed my camera and snapped three quick photos before the vehicle pulled away from the curb, leaving me uninformed. Until I googled “Kona Ice.”

As it turns out, I know the owner of Kona Ice Southern Lakes. Faribault resident Todd Carver was just wrapping up his first day of vending flavored shaved ice when he stopped in my neighborhood.

Wednesday afternoon, his third day in business, Todd was back per my request and his offer to stop by so we could chat and I could sample Kona Ice served from his franchised truck.

Todd guides tempered, shaved ice into a cup.

Todd guides tempered, shaved ice into a cup while a neighbor boy waits.

Ice, Todd adding flavor

Todd adds French vanilla flavoring to shaved ice.

A French vanilla Kona Ice.

A French vanilla Kona Ice.

Todd had barely parked when a neighbor boy showed up for a French vanilla Kona Ice. After that, while I photographed and we sat in folding chairs on my driveway and talked shop, a half dozen more neighborhood kids arrived to try flavors like pina colada, bubblegum and blue raspberry.

A dollar bill and coins for a treat.

A dollar bill and coins for a treat.

One brought a bag of coins, parceling the needed change onto the driveway before ordering.

Me? I sampled a complimentary Tiger’s Blood, a delicious melding of strawberry and coconut, and the company’s bestselling flavor combination. Todd’s right. Kona Ice is nothing, nothing at all, like the chipped ice snow cones of my childhood carnival memories. Rather, the shaved ice, as he says, “absorbs the flavor like a sponge.” Every ice shaving is infused with flavor.

The patented Flavorware system inside the truck is duplicated on the exterior for self-service.

The patented Flavorware system inside the truck is duplicated on the exterior for self-service.

Not only that, Kona Ice features a patented system, Flavorwave, in which customers can dispense the fruit flavor(s) of choice onto the shaved ice. Thirty other special flavors are available upon request and prepared by Todd.

Todd advises customers to count to three to get just the right amount of flavoring on their shaved ices.

A neighbor girls flavors her shaved ice at the self-serve Flavorwave dispenser.

With prices ranging from $2 for a kiddie size to $5 for an oversized color-changing plastic cup (which you can bring back for $3 refills), Todd notes that Kona Ice is an affordable treat.

Parked on the side street by my house Wednesday afternoon.

Parked on the side street by my house Wednesday afternoon.

As much as this new businessman raves about the product, it is the fundraising aspect of this company which sold him on purchasing a Kona Ice franchise, the fourth one in Minnesota. Two are based in the Twin Cities metro with the third in Duluth.

Ask Todd to show up at a fundraiser for your school, sports team, nonprofit or such and he’ll cut you a check for 20 percent of his sales before he drives away.

This is where the story of this life-long Faribault resident, without full-time employment since February 2010, gets personal. Todd remembers the kindness of a local businessman who hand-made a uniform for him when he joined the community’s first traveling basketball team. There was no uniform to fit the five-foot, 10-inch tall middleschooler, towering above his teammates, until the kind man stepped up to help.

“I never forgot that,” Todd says.

For that reason, he is eager to give back, to help kids. He’s been a player and a coach, raised two now college-age sons, Marshall and Logan. They will assist with the business as will wife Gail, a Christian day school teacher. He understands fundraising. That giving back to the community proved the pivotal selling point for his mobile franchise which covers the region from south of Owatonna into the Farmington and Lakeville area.

Nationwide, Kona Ice expects to reach $10 million in givebacks to communities in more than 40 states by the end of 2013.

The colorful characters which are part of the Kona story are displayed on the colorful truck.

The characters which are part of the Kona story are displayed on the colorful truck.

Todd also likes the educational aspect of Kona Ice—which offers an app with games for kids—and the fictional storyline of Kona the penguin (from the island of Gooba Jooba) and friends Crabbington, Squawksworth (a parrot), dolphins Splish and Splash, and Solomon the Sun.

This new franchise owner brings experience vending county fair concessions in high school, a background in finance as treasurer at his church, a long-time desire to own a food-related business and an enthusiasm for working with people to Kona Ice Southern Lakes.

Todd advises customers to count to three as they dispense flavor onto the ice, to get the right amount of flavoring.

Todd advises customers to count to three as they dispense flavor onto the ice, to get the right amount of flavoring.

Just days into vending, Todd’s already served Kona Ice at a daycare graduation—driving across town to get his truck, tempering his ice to April snowfall snowball consistency and arriving within 50 minutes of getting the request.

Mostly, he’s meandering through Faribault neighborhoods, like mine, with that “beautiful billboard” of a truck, introducing adults and kids alike to Kona Ice.

Enjoying her Kona Ice.

Enjoying her Kona Ice.

He revels in customers’ first-bite “wow” reactions like:

“Holy cow, this really tastes good.”

“Outstanding.”

“Amazing.”

Flavor jugs and dispensing system inside the truck.

Flavor jugs and dispensing system inside the truck.

FYI: To book Kona Ice Southern Lakes for your next fundraiser, contact Todd at tcarver@kona-ice.com or call (507) 330-4514. Please tell Todd I sent you.

Click here to reach the company website and learn more details about every aspect of Kona Ice.

Click here to reach the Facebook page of Todd’s Kona Ice business.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

After the rain June 5, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:16 AM
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AFTER THE LONGEST WINTER I can ever remember in Minnesota, we’re now enduring an especially cool and rainy spring. Clouds hang heavy. Rain drips, sometimes pours. It is enough to dampen the spirits of even the most optimistic among us.

Raindrops on hosta.

Raindrops on hosta.

So, on a recent evening, after yet another rain shower, I grabbed my camera to photograph post-rain details. This self-made assignment gave me reason to pause, to appreciate the beauty of a single raindrop.

An American flag complements million bells and a geranium in a pot near my front door.

An American flag complements million bells and a geranium in a pot near my front door.

Sometimes you truly must stop, reassess, give thanks that you are dealing only with clouds and rain and cold.  Not a tornado or floods or wildfires.

Romaine lettuce.

Romaine lettuce in the beautiful evening light.

Lovely spheres of Allium.

Lovely spheres of Allium.

Backyard bird bath.

Backyard bird bath.

Rain-shined hosta leaves.

Rain-shined hosta leaves.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Touring an historic mill in Morristown June 4, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:10 AM
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I WISH MY MEMORIES of the old feed mill were imprinted upon the pages of a book. Indelible ink. Words recorded so that I would always remember. The smell. The sound. The sights. The everything encompassing this agricultural business in my southwestern Minnesota prairie town.

I recall so little—the wooden steps leading to the feed mill; the ground feed residue lingering in the air and on surfaces; the ever-deafening grinding noise of machinery chomping grain; handsome operator Wally Anderson with his shock of white hair who lived in a well-kept corner house several blocks north; and the summer a ventriloquist sat in front of Vesta’s feed mill with a dummy perched on his knee.

The Morristown Feed Mill in Morristown, Minnesota.

The Morristown Feed Mill in Morristown, Minnesota.

Those faint wisps of recollection filtered through my thoughts on Saturday as I meandered through an historic 1860 grist mill along the banks of the Cannon River in Morristown. Once a year this rural southeastern Minnesota community opens the mill for tours and grinds wheat and corn.

A replica waterwheel built in 1997 by Theodore E. Sawle.

A replica waterwheel built in 1997 by Theodore E. Sawle.

I won’t even pretend to understand all I viewed and photographed at this mill once powered by a waterwheel, later by electricity.

A volunteer grinds wheat into flour in the old grist mill. Each time the waterwheel turns, it spins the millstone 17 times in the process of crushing grain between stones. The volunteer's wife bakes Communion bread for the local Methodist church.

A volunteer grinds wheat into flour in the old grist mill. Each time the waterwheel turns, it spins the millstone 17.5 times in the process of crushing grain between stones. The volunteer’s wife bakes Communion bread for the local Methodist church.

Initially, the mill opened in 1855 as a sawmill. But, within years, the business was replaced by Hershey Grist Mill, a mill for grinding grain into flour and livestock feed. On the afternoon I toured, a volunteer was grinding wheat into flour with the waterwheel powering the grinder. I had intended to buy a bag of the $2 wheat flour, but forgot in the midst of my photographic focus.

Guidelines for pig feed.

Guidelines for pig feed posted on a mixer.

The Morristown Historical Society today cares for the facility which closed in the 1970s as the Morristown Feed Mill, purveyor of livestock feed. For those like me, who grew up on a farm but have long ago left the land, such endeavors to preserve the rural past are deeply appreciated.

The conveyor belt powered by the waterwheel. This operates the grinder.

The waterwheel turns these pulleys and belts which operate the grinder.

While I walked the old wooden floor of the feed mill, descended stairs into the cluttered utility room where a dangerous conveyor belt cycled and afterward climbed stairs to the second floor, I reconnected with my rural roots.

The old feed mill is stocked with lots of vintage grinding equipment.

The old feed mill is stocked with lots of vintage mill equipment.

And it may not have been in the way you most likely would expect. For me, the experience was mostly about the dust—knowing I needed to protect my camera from the fine grain dust which permeates a place like this, layers on the skin, hovers in the air, filters into memories.

Inside the feed mill, where a volunteer stamps cloth bags with Morristown Feed Mill.

Inside the feed mill, a volunteer stamps cloth bags with Morristown Feed Mill. Behind the sign are two mixers.

An old fanning mill cleans the grain for planting.

An old fanning mill cleans the grain for planting.

When I heard mention of mice, I was a little nervous about going into the utility room.

When I heard mention of mice, I was a little nervous about going into the utility room.

The Cannon River dam right next to the mill.

The Cannon River dam right next to the mill.

FYI: As a side note, the mill sheltered several refugees from the U.S. – Dakota Conflict of 1862.  Check back for more mill photos.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Celebrating rural America at a kids’ pedal tractor pull in Morristown June 3, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:52 AM
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Heavy clouds rolled in from the west as I stood on the west edge of the ball field in Morristown late Saturday afternoon.

Heavy clouds rolled in from the west as I stood on the west edge of the ball field in Morristown late Saturday afternoon.

ONLY BLOCKS FROM THE HEART of Morristown, next to Babe Nordmeier Field on the west edge of town, corn sprouts in tidy rows upon the fertile earth.

This southeastern Minneosta community runs rural through and through with businesses centered on agriculture. Farmers live and work on land passed down through generations.

I climbed onto the back of the riser/stage to shoot this photo. In the foreground, behind the Dam Days royalty, are the trophies and ribbons and perhaps other prizes in the bags.

I climbed onto the back of the riser/stage to shoot this photo. In the foreground, behind the Dam Days royalty, are the trophies and ribbons and perhaps other prizes in the bags.

On Saturday afternoon, locals and those who grew up here, and others, like me, gathered under a tent on Main Street to watch the Kids’ Pedal Tractor Pull during the annual Dam Days celebration. It’s a grassroots event that melds a deep appreciation of the town’s rural roots with the connections of family and friendly competition.

Even the Dam Days princesses participated in the pedal pull. Look at the faces in the crowd.

Even the Dam Days princesses participated in the pedal pull. Look at the faces in the crowd.

As I observed the pedal pull, I focused not only on the determined little ones peddling with all their might, but on the proud parents, the equally encouraging grandparents, the enthusiastic siblings, the sweet princesses and more.

Cameras and encouragement abounded.

Cameras and encouragement abounded.

Before me I viewed a competition, yes. But I also noted smiles and felt that sense of community which prevails in the heart of rural America. At this moment in time, in this small town, all is well in the world.

The vehicle of competition, momentarily parked.

The vehicles of competition, momentarily parked.

This little guy cheers on a competitor.

This little guy cheers on a competitor.

...while this preschooler was getting tired. She wasn't sleeping, but...

…while this preschooler was getting tired. She wasn’t sleeping, but…

Cheering on a contestant.

Cheering on a contestant.

Dam Days royalty turned around and flashed their royal smiles when they realized I was behind them.

Sweet Dam Days royalty turned around and flashed their royal smiles when they realized I was behind them.

One word: Determined.

Happy and determined.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Photographing the midway at Dam Days in Morristown June 1, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:25 PM
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SET ALONG THE CANNON RIVER in Rice County, Morristown, population around 1,000, bills itself as “The Best Little Town by a Dam Site!”

And this weekend, this southeastern Minnesota community celebrates its annual Dam Days, which continue through tomorrow. It’s one of the first summer celebrations in the area, an event that typically draws large crowds, especially for the Friday evening parade.

The compact Midway in downtown Morristown.

The compact midway in downtown Morristown.

I’ve never attended the parade, but Saturday afternoon my husband and I toured the historic grist mill and schoolhouse and also took in the carnival and kids’ tractor pull.

Dakota waves to his dad who is photographing his little boy's ride on the merry-go-round.

Dakota waves to his dad who is photographing his little boy’s ride on the merry-go-round.

As always, I found an abundance of photo ops. Today I’ll show you the midway. Oh, my gosh, a carnival is a photographer’s playground with colorful characters, happy kids, young love, and just so much to take in.

Enjoy.

In front of the local Legion, the choppers.

In front of the local Legion, the choppers.

The coveted prizes hang high.

The coveted prizes hang high.

Young love. No other words needed.

Young love. No other words needed.

A riot of color.

A riot of color.

The Old Town Tavern advertises its Dam Days specials. Great place to eat.

The Old Town Tavern advertises its Dam Days specials. Great place to eat.

Trying to win a prize.

Trying to win a prize.

One of the healthier food choices.

One of the healthier food choices.

Walking (or falling) in the water balls.

Walking (or falling) in the water balls.

A slow afternoon on the Midway...

A slow afternoon on the midway…at the Dizzy Dragons ride, originating in Faribault.

Shooting to win.

Shooting to win.

One final look at the Midway.

One final look at the carnival.

If you want to experience a small town celebration, head over to Morristown, located about 10 miles west of Faribault on Minnesota State Highway 60, tomorrow. Click here to read the entire list of events happening on Sunday.

Among Sunday events is the 2nd annual Amateur Backyard BBQ Contest, beginning at 1 p.m. in the park by the river. You can sample five BBQed items for $5.

Among Sunday events is the 2nd annual Amateur Backyard BBQ Contest, beginning at 1 p.m. in the park by the river. You can sample five BBQed items for $5.

CHECK BACK FOR MORE POSTS from the Morristown Mill, the old schoolhouse and the kids’ tractor pull.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling