The entry to Coy and Kathy Lane’s second annual Halloween display in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
IT’S SIMULTANEOUSLY CREEPY, creative and community-centered. That would be the Halloween display in the front and side yards of Coy and Kathy Lane, who live a block away from me up a steep side street.
The band plays for wedding guests. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Late Sunday morning Randy and I finally toured the Coys’ second annual Halloween creation, this year themed to the wedding of Stella Live and Noah Pulse. Kathy stepped outside her house to greet us and then to turn on the switches activating lights, sound and action. The Coys want visitors to walk into their yard for a fully-immersive experience. Already some 1,400 “guests” have stopped by to witness this wedding and attend the reception, according to Kathy. That’s double those who viewed their 2022 clown daycare display.
By the cemetery, an unexpected fright. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
From chatting with Kathy, it’s clear she and Coy love transforming their yard into a Halloween attraction that delights, awes and impresses. The couple enjoys the social aspect of interacting with visitors in what Kathy calls a family-friendly setting. If they learn that a young guest may be frightened by any aspect of their display, they’ll switch off the scary.
The Angel of Death activates to infuse scary into the cemetery.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Had Kathy not warned me about the over-sized black-shrouded skeleton she activated near the cemetery, I may have jumped a bit. She noted every Halloween scene needs a cemetery, even at a wedding, where the reception was held at the Hiss and Hearse Golf Club and Cemetery. And, yes, there are open coffins and an Angel of Death and…
Brewing up drinks at the bar. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
And there’s a band and a wicked witch mother-in-law photo-bombing a photo of the bride and groom and a full open bar and a banquet table and a whole lot more.
At least one wedding guest drank too much. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
The attention to detail is remarkable. A guest who’s overindulged, perhaps on North Dust, Coffin Juice or Wing of Bat, pukes green vomit. A skeleton drummer bangs out a rhythm with bone drumsticks. A granny, skeleton cat beside her, rocks on the front porch as she oversees the festivities.
The creepy little girl. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Creepiest of all, in my opinion, is the teddy bear clutching girl who waits just inside the yard entry. Her long black hair falls around her sickly green face defined by glowing blue eyes. Over-sized green feet support her small frame. She’s off in a ghoulish sort of way that made me wonder what she’s capable of, what she’s thinking.
There’s lots to see, including a horse-drawn hearse with a surprise inside the glass-encased hearse. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
I know what I was thinking upon viewing the Coys’ display. I was thinking how generous, how creative, how wonderful of this couple to share their love of Halloween with the Faribault community. They’ve generated lots of smiles, mixed with an element of fear, but in a good sort of way.
FYI: The Halloween display, located at 234 First Avenue Southwest, will be up only until October 31. Lights turn off at 9 pm weekdays and 10 pm weekends.
A wax doll for sale at Audre’s Attic, a Lonsdale shop packed with vintage, collectibles, antiques and other interesting finds. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
SHE LOOKED SWEET ENOUGH, the big blue-eyed doll with cascading blonde curls clutching a teddy bear. But something about the wax doll creeped me out. Maybe I’d seen too many media reports about the annual Creepy Dolls contest at the History Center of Olmsted County, this October upped to a “Creepy Dolls: Murder at the Masquerade Event!”. Whatever the reason, I felt unsettled, as if that doll for sale at Audre’s Attic in Lonsdale was watching me. Any other time of year, I likely would have passed her without a wary thought.
A sign posted on property along Wells Lake outside Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
But this close to Halloween, the imagination leans toward the frightful. Scary stuff, depending on your definition of scary, is everywhere. Mostly, it’s all in good fun…unless you decide otherwise.
Displayed at Hy-Vee Grocery in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
It’s interesting how just the sight of something ghoulish can trigger a memory. Like the pirate skeleton curling his bony hands around a photo of grapes in the produce section of a local grocery store. The skeleton didn’t frighten me. Rather, it was the grapes that rattled me. I flashed back to a 1960s Halloween party. I was an impressionable kid then, blindfolded and instructed to stick my hand inside a container holding something decidedly cold, wet and roundish. “Cows’ eyeballs,” enthused the older girls hosting the party. I shrieked. Why wouldn’t I? We were in the basement of the local veterinarian’s house. It made total sense to me that I was touching cows’ eyes. I wasn’t. I was fingering cold, wet grapes.
An edited version of original artwork at Something for All Consignment/Thrift Store in Lonsdale. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
The eyes apparently have it for me in the terror department. I’ve always been vexed by Edgar Alan Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart,” his one short horror story that I remember above all others. An old man’s vulture eye, Evil Eye, led the narrator to commit murder and then confess to the crime after being taunted by an endless ringing in his ears. It’s a macabre story as is Poe’s writing in general.
Photographed in 2015 at an antique shop (now closed) in Oronoco. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2015)
Screenwriter and filmmaker Alfred Hitchcock matches Poe’s talent in the horror genre. I can’t watch “The Birds” (starring Lafayette, Minnesota native Tippi Hedren) without freaking out. To this day when I hear the raucous caw caw caw of crows, I feel unnerved, as if the birds are waiting to descend upon me.
Big Foot crosses grassland on the Spitzack farm in Rice County. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2022)
Black things with wings, including bats and gigantic bugs with pinchers, fit my definition of frightening. Not skeletons. Not spiders. Not Big Foot. Not zombies. But dark winged things, plus mice, centipedes and memories of cold grapes scare me.
“All Dressed up for Halloween,” a quilt pieced and quilted by Marcia Speiker and displayed at the Rice County Piecemakers Fall Splendor Quilt Show in September. Buttermilk Basin is the pattern author. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2023)
Aside from the scary, I appreciate the fun side of Halloween, especially the excitement kids feel in dressing as favorite characters, imagining they are someone they are not. A superhero. A Disney character. An animal. Maybe even Batman, distinctly different than a bat. Wherever their imaginations take them, they race in their costumes—door-to-door and to Halloween events (not held in veterinarians’ basements) to gather bags full of candy.
Something for All Consignment/Thrift Store in Lonsdale offers assorted patterns to stitch Halloween costumes, including the 1995 pattern on the right. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
The little witches, dinosaurs, Spider Men and more skirt doorstep jack-o-lanterns, guts pulled out in strings of seeds and pulp. Unpleasant in an Edgar Alan Poe sort of way. Only painted pumpkins are spared disembowelment.
The underside of a monstrous bug found recently in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Halloween mixes fun and fright. Over-sized bugs and skeletons. Candy. Creepy dolls. Cute princesses. Horror stories. Parties. And, if the mind (or the eye) wanders far enough, cold grapes persuasively re-imagined as cows’ eyeballs.
Stunning fall colors along Farwell Avenue north of Warsaw. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
AUTUMN BECKONED US RECENTLY to forgo the yard work, the half-finished interior paint job, the anything that would keep us at home. Rather, we hit the backroads, taking in the glorious fall colors which finally exploded. I can’t recall leaves ever turning this late in the season here.
One of my favorite old barns in Rice County, located along Farwell Avenue north of Warsaw. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
This region of Minnesota seems vastly undiscovered as an autumn leaf-peeping destination. But I learned years ago that the Faribault area offers stunning fall foliage, especially along our many area lakes and in stands of trees among rural rolling hills.
This gravel road, Farwell Avenue, took us past beautiful fall foliage. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
I like nothing better than to follow gravel roads that twist through the countryside. The slower pace connects me to the land, to the lovely scenes unfolding before me. Dust clouds trail vehicles rumbling along sometimes washboard surfaces. Combines kick up dust, too, as farmers harvest corn and soybeans, grain trucks parked nearby to hold the bounty.
A rare find, a vintage corn crib packed with field corn in northwestern Rice County, in the Lonsdale area. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Even inside our van, I can smell the scent of earth rising from freshly-tilled fields. Some acreage lies bare while others still hold endless rows of ripened crops awaiting harvest.
The Theis family has created a welcoming outdoor space for Apple Creek Orchard visitors to gather beside a fireplace against a wooded backdrop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
At Apple Creek Orchard west of Faribault, families gathered on a sunny weekend afternoon to enjoy fun on-site activities like apple picking, bean bag toss, apple slinging, wagon rides, jump pad, corn maze and more. We wandered the grounds, admiring the improvements and expansions made by the Theis family to grow their orchard in to an agri-entertainment destination. They’ve also added an event center to host weddings and other gatherings.
Autumn-themed pillows are propped on the sitting area next to the outdoor fireplace at Apple Creek Orchard. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
As Randy paid for a half-peck of my favorite Minnesota-developed SweeTango pulled from a store cooler, I greeted Tami Theis, congratulated her on their upgrades. She inquired about my family. I got to know Tami and her daughter Amber sometime back while at the orchard. They are a delight— friendly, caring and, oh, so welcoming to everyone. Amber was running the concession stand on this busy afternoon and I gave her a hard time after learning the donut machine wasn’t working and I would get none of the mini donuts I craved.
Dudley Lake, one of my favorite places to see colorful lakeside treesin Rice County.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
No matter my disappointment in the lack of a sweet treat, nothing else about our afternoon outing disappointed. Onward Randy and I went. He turned the van left out of Apple Creek Orchard onto the paved roadway. Eventually we took gravel roads again, meandering past lakes and fields and farm sites, stopping occasionally so I could snap photos.
My next-door neighbor’s flaming maple. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
I love this time of year. The scent of decaying leaves. The sight of trees flaming red, yellow, orange. The muted fields that define the landscape. The apples and pumpkins and gourds. The bold blue sky. The bringing in of the harvest.
Looking up at our backyard maple, the wooded hillside and at our neighbor’s trees on a recent afternoon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Back home, the down side of autumn awaited us in outdoor chores—removing leaves from rain gutters, raking/mulching layers of maple leaves in the backyard, washing windows… To everything there is a season. And the season of autumn means taking time to view the colorful fall foliage when the trees are turning. The work can wait.
Minnesota is known for its beautiful fall colors, although 2023 colors were not as brilliant as previous autumns due to drought and temps. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2021)
DURING THESE FINAL DAYS of October, when the sun blazes warmth into crisp days and leaves fall and pumpkins lie exposed in fields, vines withered, there’s a rush to pack in final autumn fun. And I did just that Sunday afternoon at Larson’s Bridgewater Farm on the northwest edge of Northfield.
Pumpkins galore, not at Bridgewater farm, but at a southern Minnesota apple orchard. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2021)
Here, on this working farm turned pumpkin patch destination, Randy and I joined our eldest and her family, among many multi-generational families focused on an experience that certainly beats picking pumpkins from a retail store display. This is all about connecting to each other and to the land. And this is all about building memories that remain long after the last pumpkin has gone into the compost pile.
A barrel train heads toward the pole shed, aside the corn maze at Bridgewater Farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
I observed so many smiles, so much joy, so much exuberance. I remember thinking, as I cozied next to my daughter Amber at the back of a flatbed wagon pulled by a John Deere tractor, that life doesn’t get much better than this. Here we were, strangers crammed onto wagon benches, bumping around the farm, past the cattle and pole sheds and cornfields under a clear, sunny October sky. It was as if nothing existed beyond this acreage. I felt overwhelming peace, a surge of serenity in the simplicity of the moment.
Randy and I pose next to the old John Deere tractor. (Photo credit: Amber Schmidt)
Perhaps my farm background factored into my personal reaction. The sight of dried cornfields, the scent of manure, the fenced beef cattle and calves (especially the calves), the stacked hay bales, the tread of tractor tires embedded in mud, the old John Deere tractor (a photo op backdrop), all proved nostalgically uplifting.
Among several fun photo cut-outs in Bridgewater Farm’s Photo Alley. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
I doubt my grandchildren noticed any of this, except perhaps the barnyard smell. Izzy, 7, and Isaac, 4, were too busy enjoying the many kid-based activities offered at Bridgewater Farm. Twice they rode the barrel train that looped through a machine shed holding hay, past the livestock and then back. They climbed weathered bales stacked high, slides zooming them back to ground level. They twisted through the kids’ corn maze with us, their parents later following the more challenging adult version, which the grandparents opted out of to oversee the kids as they climbed the haystacks once again and then moved on to the corn box.
The kids’ hands-down favorite seemed to be the corn pit, where they shoveled kernels, filled pails, covered themselves in corn. Again, memories rushed back. Not of playing in shelled corn. But of decades ago farm work, of pushing wheelbarrows full of ground corn down the barn aisle to feed the cows. My grandchildren will never know that rural life, only the stories I share with them of yesteryear, of when Grandma was growing up on the farm.
A goat on a family member’s farm, similar to one at Bridgewater Farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2018)
I enticed them to pet the silky ear of a goat before we headed away from the fenced goats and sheep to take posed photos at the seasonally-themed photo cut-outs. I didn’t take many photos during our afternoon outing, choosing to enjoy being in the moment without the distraction of photography. I left my 35mm camera at home. Intentionally. The daughter snapped plenty of images with her cellphone.
Izzy, especially tall for her age, and her brother check their height at Bridgewater Farm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
When we pedaled kid-sized and adult-sized tricycles (yes, me and the other adults, too, except for the too-tall son-in-law) around the trike race track, I remembered a black-and-white photo taken of me as a teen riding my youngest brother’s trike on my childhood farm, long legs bent awkwardly to the side, broad smile across my face. I smiled just as wide at Bridgewater Farm, my long legs bent awkwardly as I raced after my granddaughter peddling with her long legs bent awkwardly.
A field of pumpkins photographed in southern Minnesota in 2022. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2022)
Soon the grandkids were pulling a wagon to the pumpkin patch. And when they weren’t looking, Grandpa scooted on and the pulling halted and they turned to see us all laughing. Eventually we found just the right pumpkins hefted from the pumpkin patch, weighed and then loaded into the car.
What a fun-filled afternoon on the farm—one of nostalgia for me, but more importantly of experiencing simple joys with my family. And it all started with the kids wanting to go to a pumpkin patch.
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FYI: Pumpkin patch season is winding down in Minnesota. Bridgewater Farm is offering special MEA hours this Thursday and Friday from noon to 5 pm. Otherwise the farm is open only on weekends, October 28-29 being the final weekend with hours from 11 am – 6 pm. Admission to the pumpkin patch is free with a $10/person cost for all activities, excluding apple cannon shooting. That costs an additional fee. Pumpkins are sold both pick-your-own or pre-picked.
TELL ME: Do you have a favorite pumpkin patch in Minnesota or elsewhere. Let’s hear where and why it’s a favorite.
Lights glow purple on the Rice County Government Services building in Faribault in recognition of Domestic Violence Awareness Month. The moody sky fits the topic, the arrow on the pavement (from my perspective) pointing to hope, a way out of an abusive relationship. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
BEVERLY BOARDED THE GREYHOUND BUS, battered suitcase in hand, journal and hastily grabbed clothes zippered inside. She felt worn down. Exhausted. On this day, she chose to leave, to flee her husband’s physical, emotional and verbal abuse. As Beverly walked down the aisle to her seat, her mood lightened. But then she spotted Thomas approaching the bus, face flashing anger, clenched fists threatening.
This anthology, featuring Minnesota writers or those with a connection to Minnesota, includes my short story about domestic abuse. (Book cover image sourced online)
Every day across Minnesota and beyond, scenarios like Beverly’s unfold in real life. The faces and places and circumstances differ. But the threat is real, as real as my fictional version aimed to not only provide a suspenseful read but also to raise awareness about domestic abuse.
A promo for the “2022 Homicide Report.” (Source: Violence Free Minnesota Facebook page)
October marks Domestic Violence Awareness Month. And that began in Minnesota with the release of the “2022 Homicide Report: Relationship Abuse in Minnesota” by Violence Free Minnesota. The report states that “at least 24 people were killed due to intimate partner homicide in 2022.” A further break-down of that shows at least 20 women and one man died from intimate partner violence and at least three bystanders/intervenors also died. Their ages ranged from 13 to 66. They lived in all areas of Minnesota from rural to urban.
Margie Brown Holland (my former neighbor’s daughter) and her unborn daughter, Olivia, were murdered in 2013 in an act of domestic violence. Information about Margie was displayed on a t-shirt as part of The Clothesline Project exhibit I saw in Owatonna in 2015. This exhibit is available for display through Violence Free Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2015)
While statistics and summaries matter, it is the stories which make the greatest impact. This report includes those, along with photos of nearly every homicide victim. Those stories begin on page 47, well into the 66-page report which is packed with powerful information that really should be read by every adult.
I focused my attention first on Chandra Lanae Pelch of nearby Medford. The 18-year-old was shot six times by her boyfriend in a murder-suicide on June 3, 2022. While the profile on Chandra is short, it is enough to break my heart. She leaves behind an infant son and loving family and friends.
I was also drawn to the story of Isaac Jon Hoff, 13, stabbed to death by his mother’s boyfriend, now serving 17 years in prison for his murder. It’s another heartbreaking case of domestic violence, of a woman attempting to defend herself, of a man grabbing a knife from her hand, of a son stabbed as he stood behind his mother. They were under an order of protection against their attacker. Isaac, who was described as “spunky, big-hearted and loved,” managed to call 911. He died later at the hospital. Isaac was from small town Olivia in southern Minnesota.
And then there’s Kimberly Ann Robinson, 41, who was found dead from a gunshot wound and blunt force trauma injuries on the side of a road in Rochester. Her boyfriend has been charged in her murder. She was a mother of three.
An excerpt from the 2016 book “She Stays” by HOPE Center Director Erica Staab-Absher explains why a woman stays in an abusive relationship. (Text copyright of Erica Staab-Absher)
Each story in this report deserves attention, for each person lived and loved and was loved. None were to blame for their horrific deaths, just like Beverly in my fictional story did nothing to deserve the physical and emotional abuse inflicted upon her by her husband. Domestic abuse, at its core, is about power and control. Too often, people ask, “Why didn’t she just leave?” That, in essence, shifts blame to the victim. This report explains “why” in “VICTIM’S ATTEMPT TO LEAVE THE ABUSER.”
The “2022 Homicide Report” does a good job of revealing the “whys” and of expanding on domestic abuse/violence-related topics within the legal system, racial disparities, healthcare, economic abuse, public/workplace violence and more. The report also includes recommendations in each of those target areas. One section even makes recommendations to the media about covering domestic violence.
Inspirational and honoring words are embedded in a mosaic honoring Barb Larson, killed in an act of domestic violence at her workplace, the Faribault Area Chamber of Commerce and Tourism, on December 23, 2016. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
In the all of this, in the awfulness of these 24 deaths in Minnesota in 2022, we can all learn, grow our compassion, support and understanding, begin to recognize the warning signs of domestic abuse. There is hope and help available through advocacy groups and organizations, shelters and more. But it takes courage to seek help while under the power and control of an abuser. In my fictional story, Beverly found that courage on the day she grabbed her battered suitcase with her documenting journal zippered inside and boarded that Greyhound bus. But did she survive? The truth is, I don’t know.
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FYI:Talking Stick 32, Twist in the Road includes not only my fictional story about domestic abuse, but four other fictional short stories and two poems on the topic. Particularly powerful is the poem “At the Cafe” by Mary Scully Whitaker in which the author and a waitress witness emotional abuse and threats of violence against a woman, then intervene. The anthology, published by the Jackpine Writers’ Bloc, is available through Amazon.
If you are a victim of domestic abuse, know that help is available. Have a plan in place to leave safely, recognizing that leaving an abuser is a particularly dangerous time. You are not alone. And you are not to blame.
An empty buggy parked in a field of sunflowers was part of the IRIS Sunflower Garden planted in Faribault for the first time this summer. It offered a quiet place to contemplate, to grieve, to honor. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2023)
TO LOSE A CHILD, whether in utero, to stillbirth, to SIDS or some other disease, illness or tragedy is to experience profound grief. It is unfathomable, yet reality for too many. It is heartbreaking and gut-wrenching and painful beyond words.
The IRIS house is located in central Faribault near downtown and near the Rice County courthouse and government services building. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
This evening at 7 pm, Faribault-based Infants Remembered in Silence (IRIS) hosts a Wave a Light Gathering to honor the memories of those children lost too soon, whether pre-birth, in infancy or in childhood. October 15 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. People around the world are invited to light a candle honoring those children in a collective show of love, support and care.
This moving sculpture defines the front yard flower garden of IRIS, where iris are currently blooming. Hearts will be placed inside the cradle this evening. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Locally that will happen at the IRIS office, 218 Third Avenue. The Faribault event includes the sharing of poems, songs and readings plus the placing of hearts in the empty cradle of the on-site bronze statue, “I Knew You In The Womb.” Attendees should arrive with candles and with hearts (with the names of lost little ones written thereon). Those hearts will be added to IRIS’ permanent collection.
More iris bloom in a side garden of IRIS. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
IRIS, a non-profit which started in my community, has grown to a world-wide outreach. It supports, advocates, educates, serves, comforts and much more and is truly an invaluable resource for anyone grieving the loss of an infant, a child.
Sunday morning two roses lay inside the otherwise empty cradle of the IRIS sculpture. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
So this evening, light a candle. And if you see blue and pink lights lighting a public structure like the 35W bridge, the Lowry Avenue Bridge or the IDS Center, all in Minneapolis, think of the sweet babies, the darling children, the dear little ones lost, and, oh, so loved.
Minneopa State Park near Mankato is home to 30-40 bison fenced on 325 acres of primarily prairie. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)
THEY ARE MASSIVE BEASTS, once roaming the American Great Plains by the millions. They are bison, also called buffalo, today numbering some 370,000 in North America. Most are raised as livestock. But some 31,000, or eight percent, are part of conservation herds, including right here in Minnesota. Such herds are designed to protect wild bison and preserve their genetic diversity.
Interpretive signage about bison overlooks the prairie at Minneopa State Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)
An upcoming documentary, “The American Buffalo—A Story of Resilience” by awarding-winning filmmaker Ken Burns, and my own recently posted poem about bison prompted my renewed interest in this animal. Burns’ 4-hour film airs in two parts, at 7 pm on Monday, October 16, and on Tuesday, October 17, on PBS. His documentary traces the history of bison, their importance in Native peoples’ lives and culture, their near extinction, and efforts to bring them back.
Bison up close while driving through Minneopa State Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)
A map, posted in Minneopa State Park, shows the prairie and historic bison territory in Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)
Given the region’s rich Native heritage, the presence of a small group of bison in the Ramsey Park Zoo seems fitting. I recall rushing to see the buffalo there, both excited and intimidated by their massive hulk. Today I’m not so much afraid as respectful of their size and their importance in Indigenous Peoples’ culture.
A sculpture of White Buffalo Calf Woman, part of Indigenous culture, displayed at the 2011 Mankato City Art Walking Sculpture Tour. Artwork by Lee Leuning and Sherri Treeby. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2011 by Audrey Kletscher Helbling)
One need only look back in history to see how invaluable bison were to these original inhabitants of the prairie, the plains. Bison provided food, shelter, clothing and more to Indigenous Peoples. They also held spiritual and cultural significance. Bison were considered kin, respected by those who respected Mother Earth.
Bison at Minneopa State Park watering hole. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)
And then the white man came in the 1800s, overtaking the land, nearly driving bison to extinction as they hunted and slaughtered the animal primarily for their hides.
Blue Mounds State Park in rural Rock County, Minnesota, is home to 80-90 bison, although I did not see them when I visited the park in 2013.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)
And so the story of bison is not only one of past atrocities in American history, but also one of personal history for me with those fenced bison in Minnesota’s largest municipal park, known as “The Little Yellowstone of Minnesota” for its beautiful natural topography seemingly like Yellowstone National Park. Yellowstone, the one in Wyoming, is home to nearly 6,000 bison.
A sign along the prairie’s edge at Minneopa State Park informs about bison in Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)
In my youth, I didn’t understand the importance of bison in Native culture. I simply delighted in seeing them in the zoo at then Alexander Ramsey Park in my native Redwood County. Neither did I recognize how offensive the name of the park I loved as a child—Alexander Ramsey Park. Alexander Ramsey served as our first territorial governor and then as the second state governor of Minnesota during the US-Dakota War of 1862. He offered a bounty to anyone who killed a Dakota person and called for Indigenous Peoples to be driven out of Minnesota.
This 67-ton Kasota limestone sculpture stands in Reconciliation Park in Mankato. It symbolizes the spiritual survival of the Dakota People and honors the area’s Dakota heritage. The park is the site of the largest mass hanging in U.S. history. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2019)
My poem posted along a recreational trail in Mankato. (Photo credit: Kay Herbst Helms)
I wanted to honor the original inhabitants of Mahkato, the bison, the Native culture, the land. And so I wrote “The Mighty Tatanka,” using the Dakota word for bison. My poem was selected for inclusion in the Mankato Poetry Walk & Ride and is posted on a sign in West Mankato.
The Mighty Tatanka
Tatanka trips from my tongue like the steady beat of horse hooves pounding the prairie in pursuit of massive beasts.
Bison. Honored. Sacred to the Dakota. Source of life and food and shelter. Once roaming, grazing, stampeding this land upon which I stand.
While my poem is succinct, limited by wordage requirements in the poetry competition, I’d like to think “The Mighty Tatanka” is powerful. It holds not only the rhythm of carefully selected words, but a story. A story of bison, of Indigenous Peoples, of a way of life, of a culture. It holds, too, honor for the land and of those who first inhabited, and respected, it.
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FYI: My poem is posted on a sign along the West Mankato Trail near the intersection of Owatonna Street and Blue Earth and Sylvia Streets in West Mankato. You can listen to me read my poem by calling 507-403-4038 and entering 406.
Noted Minnesota wildlife photographer Jim Brandenberg’s (right in video) work, including this image of bison, is featured in a gallery bearing his name in Luverne, near Blue Mounds State Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)
To see Minnesota Bison Conservation Herd bison in Minnesota, visit Minneopa State Park near Mankato, Blue Mounds State Park near Luverne, the Minnesota Zoological Garden, Oxbow Park & Zollman Zoo by Byron, and Spring Lake Park Reserve Bison Prairie in Dakota County.
Flowers were covered to protect them from frost Monday morning at The River Church, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
FROST LAYEREDWINDOWS of the neighbor’s 1970s Ford Gran Torino Monday morning. Frost also skimmed roofs, spotted lawns, nipped uncovered plants.
October 9 marked the first light frost in Faribault, a clear indication of winter’s impending arrival.
There was a time when I would have raced around the evening before a predicted frost, covering plants with old sheets. The desire ran strong to extend autumn by keeping outdoor flowers and other plants alive. No more. I no longer plant flowers in pots like I once did given the cost and work. Rather, I rely on primarily perennials to splash color and greenery into my yard.
Cyclamen. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Only the oregano, rosemary and cyclamen, which I winter over, needed protection from Monday’s below freezing temps. So Randy carried those pots into the garage in the dark of Sunday evening.
Monday morning we arose to that first frost, turned on the furnace for the first time this fall, then slipped on our jackets, stocking caps and gloves and headed to Central Park for our morning walk. City employees were already there, shortly after 8 am, loading picnic tables and park benches onto a trailer and pick-up truck bed for winter storage.
Across the street, a lawn service company edged the sidewalk of grass at an apartment complex, making for easier snow removal come winter.
Across the street from the apartments, blankets and tarps draped flowers and plants at The River Church.
In the brilliant sunshine of this cold October morning, we walked away from and around Central Park, pausing to chat briefly with a Korean War veteran shoving his walker along the sidewalk. It’s part of his morning routine. He was an engineer in the war, tasked once with building a bridge in Korea. His brothers also served in various wars. All came home.
Home. On this day this veteran shared how he misses his lake home, how his children convinced him to move into cooperative senior living housing by the park. He shouldn’t have listened to his kids, he said, sadness tinging his voice.
Enjoying a summer concert at Central Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2020)
Change. It can be tough. Randy and I continued on in the inevitable change of seasons. Past the band shell, where seniors and others once settled onto park benches, picnic tables and lawn chairs for summer concerts. And then back to the van for the drive home in the bright sunshine.
The backyard maple, still mostly green in early October. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Back home I pulled laundry from the washing machine, carted the basket up the basement stairs, opened the door to the boldness of October, to the backyard maple still mostly green. It’s been an odd autumn of up and down temps which messed with fall colors.
I unwound the clothesline, then began clipping laundry on the line. Methodically. Placing heavier items like bluejeans in the full sun. Soon my fingertips felt the cold—from the cold morning and the dampness of the cold clothes.
And then, when I finished, I stepped inside the garage, carried out the pots of oregano, rosemary and cyclamen into the balminess of 40-degree temps.
Just inside the entrance to Maple Lawn Cemetery, a sign directs visitors to Taopi’s gravesite. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
MY GOAL WAS SIMPLE—to write a piece honoring Indigenous Peoples’ Day. My focus, I initially decided, would be on Taopi, a member of the Little Crow Band of the Mdewakanton Dakota Tribe. Taopi is perhaps best known in Faribault, where he lived for a while and is buried. A small Mower County town near the Iowa border also honors him in name. But my writing expanded beyond Taopi.
Taopi’s grave, and that of his daughter, are easily spotted via the propped poles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Recently I visited Taopi’s gravesite at Maple Lawn Cemetery. My interest piqued. I wanted to learn more about this Dakota leader and his importance in my community and in Minnesota history. His place in history connects to the US-Dakota War of 1862, a war all too familiar to me. My native Redwood County, where the Lower Sioux Agency was located, centered that deadly, short-lived conflict between white people and Native Peoples.
Now, viewing this war through a lens not tinted primarily by a white perspective, I understand the injustices. Decades ago, when I wrote a high school term paper on the war, I admittedly wrote a biased, unbalanced report based on biased, unbalanced research sources.
With time and maturity came the realization of the great injustices done, first when the US government acquired Indigenous Peoples’ land at a seemingly low cost and then failed to honor those treaties. The treaties opened nearly 24 million acres to white settlers. It was the Natives, the original inhabitants of this land, who found themselves cheated of government annuities, starving, pushed off their land and confined to strips of land along the Minnesota River. That includes the Wahpekute, a small band of the Dakota who lived in south central Minnesota, including the Faribault area. I live just below a Faribault city park called Wapacuta.
An exhibit at the Rice County Historical Society Museum. Artifacts from Indigenous Peoples are also displayed in cases. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
At the time of the US-Dakota War of 1862, Taopi was in the thick of all of it as a “farmer Indian,” the name tagged to Native Peoples who opted to farm, adapting the ways of the white man in occupation, dress and sometimes religion. He lived near the Lower Sioux Agency, relocated to a reservation there following the Treaty of Mendota in 1851. Those who continued with their hunting and fishing culture were known as “blanket Indians.” Taopi assuredly felt the animosity of his own people for the lifestyle and other choices he made.
A woodcarving of Taopi by noted Faribault artist Ivan Whillock is for sale in the Rice County Historical Society Museum’s gift shop. One is also displayed in a museum exhibit on Taopi. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
I can only imagine the pressure Indigenous Peoples experienced as white settlers moved into the area. The change, at times, had to feel overwhelming. Life would never be the same. Long-time homelands were lost, tradition and culture endangered. And so Taopi and others adapted, likely accepting that change was inevitable.
The gravesite of Taopi and his daughter, Cornelia Whipple Taopi (named after Cornelia Whipple, married to Bishop Henry Whipple). (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
But one thing that remained constant with Taopi was his focus on peace. He opposed the war and was a leader in the Dakota Peace Party. He is credited with saving the lives of many.
Yet, at war’s end, Taopi found himself caught—disliked by his peoples, who considered him a traitor, and disliked by whites holding a deep animosity toward any Native person. In Faribault, though, he had a friend in Bishop Henry Whipple, a strong advocate for First Peoples, and in town founder Alexander Faribault. Eventually, Taopi and other Natives moved onto land owned by Alexander Faribault, living under his protection on a bluff overlooking the Straight River. Taopi died in 1869. In 1895, the Indigenous Peoples of Faribault were displaced once again, moved to the Lower Sioux Reservation. They had always existed on the fringes in Faribault, never fully-accepted by most residents while under the protection of the bishop and town founder.
Dana Hanson’s “Father’s of Faribault” (left to right, Alexander Faribault, Taopi and Bishop Henry Whipple) featured on a bench along Central Avenue in downtown Faribault. The same artwork hangs inside Buckham Memorial Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2023)
Sources: The First Cathedral, an Episcopal Community for Mission by Benjamin Ives Scott and Robert Neslund; the Minnesota Historical Society website; and the Rice County Historical Society Museum’s Taopi display.
Promo for Saturday’s event, courtesy of Elizabeth Johanneck.
THEY ARE LONG-TIME FRIENDS. Friends who grew up together, who have a history of experiences and stories and of being there for one another. And they are both authors of books rooted in rural Redwood County, the land which shaped and grew them and their enduring friendship.
On Saturday, October 7, Twin Cities resident Elizabeth “Beth” Johanneck, author of If You Can’t Make it to Heaven, at Least Get to Seaforth—The Monica Stories and Then Some, and Granite Falls resident Cynthia “Cindy” Bernardy Lavin, author of the children’s book I Think I’ll Call You Annie: Based Upon a True Story (which Beth illustrated), return to Seaforth, population 77, for a 1-4 pm event sure to draw lots of interest.
The C4th Bar hosts the afternoon activities, which include a meet-and-greet (1-3 pm) with the authors and Monica Pistulka Fischer, prominently featured in Beth’s collection of short stories and art from the Seaforth and Wabasso areas. Books will be available for purchase.
Event promo courtesy of Elizabeth Johanneck.
But there’s much more planned than a book signing and time to chat with the long-time friends. The event also includes a hayride and self-guided tour of St. Mary’s Cemetery just northwest of Seaforth. Attendees can visit the gravesites of locals included in both books.
Image sourced online.
Back at the bar, Cindy, a retired elementary school teacher, will read her book about Seaforth’s most famous pig and offer a pig art project for kids.
The original painting of “Seaforth Main Street,” featured here on the cover of Beth’s book, will be on display at Saturday’s celebration. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2023)
Art is an important part of this celebration as art is an integral part of Beth’s book. Her book includes the only printed collection of selected paintings by her grandfather, Arnold Kramer, dubbed “Minnesota’s Grandpa Moses.” He documented early to mid 1900s rural life and scenes, creating an historical agrarian treasure of some 400 paintings upon his retirement from farming. His original painting, “Seaforth Main Street,” which graces the cover of Beth’s book, will be displayed at Saturday’s celebration.
The C4th Bar is also honoring Kramer and several other Seaforth residents (and one pig) with special drinks: “The Grandpa Moses” for folk artist Arnold Kramer; “The Angie” for business owner Angie Bergen; “The Monica” for Monica Pistulka Fischer; and “The Annie” for Dana and Connie Dittbenner and Annie the Pig. “The Monica” and “The Annie” are non-alcoholic drinks. Hot chocolate and make your own s’mores will also be available.
No event is complete without music. The celebration features the live music of Cowboy Dave Gewerth.
It will be quite an afternoon in Seaforth. I can almost envision the scene of a packed bar, of Beth and Cindy mingling, of glasses raised, of stories shared, of memories made. That’s the thing about small towns, especially—you may leave, but you remain forever connected to the place, the events, the people. Like Beth and Cindy, long-time friends who on Saturday return to their roots to celebrate publication of their books, but, more importantly, Seaforth and its residents.
Disclaimer: I edited and proofed the manuscript for Beth’s book. My poem, “Her Treasure,” is printed in the book as a companion piece. Beth, Cindy and I attended Wabasso High School together, graduating with the class of 1974. Beth and I were also lockermates.
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