Photographed in the front window of a downtown Faribault business. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2022)
LISTENING TO AN AREA RADIO STATION Tuesday morning, I learned about a project which seems pure genius. It’s the Human Library®. Developed 23 years ago in Copenhagen and now spread internationally, the library “hosts personal conversations designed to challenge stigma and stereotypes.” And it’s coming to Owatonna this week.
Kids of varied ethnicities and skin tones gather as one to break a pinata at a past International Festival Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted, award-winning photo, 2012)
I love this concept of one-on-one conversations among community members who might not otherwise connect. If we’re honest, most of us tend to stick with others who are most like us. Those in our circles. But this, oh, this opens the doors to meeting new people, to understanding, to friendships and much more. And we can only be the better for it by talking with one another, learning, growing our knowledge and compassion.
The idea is simple. Check out a “human book” for 15 minutes by meeting with community members who’ve agreed to participate in the project. Ask questions. Share. Simply chat, get to know one another. Break down barriers. Find common ground. Embrace differences. “Read” as many “human books” as time and availability allow.
We are a diverse country, as represented at a past International Festival in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)
The list of 20 participating individuals in Owatonna is lengthy and diverse, exactly as intended: Somali Americans, African Americans, senior citizens, business owners, religious leaders, Hispanic, LGBTQ+, educators, veterans, handicapped individuals, law enforcement officers, nonprofit leaders, recovered addicts and healthcare workers.
A welcoming sign hangs on the American Legion building in small town Mazeppa. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2018)
Owatonna, like many communities in southern Minnesota and throughout the state, nation and world for that matter, has faced tough issues such as racism, prejudice, discrimination and hatred. Sometimes those issues are right there, publicly visible in ways that make me wonder how humans can treat each other with such disrespect and meanness. But just as dangerous are the insidious comments and behaviors that creep under the radar into communities. We all know they are there—the slights, the whispers, the off-the-cuff hurtful remarks, the intentional exclusion…
A welcoming message at Just Food Co-op in downtown Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2022)
I hold hope that projects like the Human Library® can effectively make a difference in enlightening, in changing attitudes, in helping each of realize that we are all human, more alike than we are different.
Portraits and stories, including that of Tin Tea owner, Chau, second from right, are featured in the newest “I Am Minnesota” exhibit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2023)
IN THE CORRIDOR LINKING Buckham Memorial Library and the Faribault Community Center, 13 portraits of immigrants and second-generation immigrants line the walls. They are the work of Faribault artist Kate Langlais in her updated “I Am Minnesota” project.
“Faysel,” who fled the war in Somalia. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2020)
This is a remarkable and revealing exhibit, which stretches well beyond faces portrayed primarily in black and white charcoal on gray paper. Langlais also includes the stories of those who now call this region home. Those stories hold the challenges and dreams, the successes, the gratitude and more of individuals who have become integral, and important, parts of our communities.
Faysel’s story from Langlais’ 2020 “I Am Minnesota” exhibit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2020)
Kate Langlais at work in her home studio. (Photo courtesy of Kate Langlais, 2022)
In her artist’s statement, Langlais states in part that, “It is an honor to learn about each individual’s hardships and perseverance, as well as the beauty of their hopes and dreams.”
“Hilda,” successful Faribault business owner. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2023)
That includes the hopes and dreams of Hilda, who came to Faribault in 1996 with the goal of opening a family-run restaurant serving authentic Mexican food. Twenty-seven years later, El Tequila Family Mexican Restaurant is still going strong, even expanding to other communities. Hilda overcame a vocal naysayer who doubted such a restaurant could survive, let alone thrive, in Faribault. She proved him wrong and, in her story, expresses gratitude to a supportive community.
Likewise, another woman with a dream, second-generation Vietnamese-American Chau, opened Tin Tea in Northfield in June 2021 at the age of 19 while also a full-time student at St. Olaf College. Her story begins with gratitude to her parents: “My parents’ incredible journey from Vietnam to a new land left an indelible mark on my life. Filled with hardships and unwavering determination, their arrival in a foreign land with nothing but hope and courage inspired me deeply.”
An unidentified “I Am Minnesota” portrait of a woman hangs next to a drawing of Peter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2023)
To read these stories, to view these portraits, is to witness the strength and determination of individuals like Hilda and Chau. And Peter, an immigrant from the Netherlands who moved with his wife Virginia to Faribault in 2002. Since then, Peter, now a U.S. citizen, has volunteered tirelessly in Faribault, heading up the International Festival, being selected as “Citizen of the Year” (along with Virginia), elected to the City Council, recently named the new Rice County fair manager and more.
Included in Hilda’s portrait is the name of her successful Mexican restaurant, the first in Faribault andnow one of several. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2023)
Thirteen faces. Thirteen stories. They are ours to view, to read, to appreciate. For in seeing, we put faces to the word “immigrants.” For in reading, we learn their backstories. And in both, we begin to understand that our newest neighbors and their families overcame much to call this place, this southern Minnesota, home.
A bus follows a back country road near Morgan in southwestern Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2018)
SHE WANTS TO SAVE the earth. It’s a lofty and noble goal for my granddaughter, who started second grade on Tuesday. Each year, on the first day of school, her mom documents basics about Isabelle on a small chalkboard. That includes a response to “What I want to be when I grow up.” This year Izzy aims to be an environmentalist. As a first grader, her professional goal was becoming a game designer. And on the first day of kindergarten, she wanted to own a toy store and also be a mom.
It’s interesting how Izzy’s interests evolve as she ages, as she grows her world and knowledge and connections with others. The possibilities are endless for her generation. I hold such hope in these young people, just beginning their formal educations.
And I hold hope, too, when I see a photo of Izzy and three neighborhood friends waiting at their urban bus stop. “Smart, Brave, Beautiful” banners Bethel’s tee. What a reaffirming message. For all of them. And how reaffirming that they are of differing ethnicity, their skin tones varied and, indeed, beautiful.
My elementary school, circa 1960s, located in Vesta in Redwood County. The school closed decades ago. (Photographer unknown; photo sourced from my personal photo album)
Sixty years have passed since I was a second grader in a small southwestern Minnesota elementary school, where my paternal grandfather served on the school board. My classmates and I were mostly farm kids, all white. We wrote in “Big Chief” lined tablets which today would not, should not, fly. Attitudes differed in the 1960s. Words like diversity, respect and environmentalist were not part of our everyday vocabulary.
A serene country scene just north of Lamberton in southern Redwood County.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2013)
But words, overall, held my interest all those decades ago. I have Mrs. Kotval to thank for sparking my love of words, of reading, and eventually of writing. Each day after lunch, she read to her third and fourth graders from “The Little House” and other chapter books. Through the writing of Laura Ingalls Wilder, who lived many years earlier in nearby Walnut Grove, I began to appreciate the nuances of the prairie. And I learned the importance of descriptive, detailed writing. Wilder engaged all of her senses to describe the prairie and life thereon in her series of wildly popular books. With her love of the natural world, this writer unknowingly documented the environment for me, my children and for my second grade granddaughter, today an aspiring environmentalist.
Early on, I aspired to be an elementary school teacher. But that changed as I grew my world, my knowledge, my connections. Words focused my passion. Unlike most of my elementary school classmates, I loved penmanship—letters and words flowing in script across the pages of my penmanship book. I loved spelling. I loved reading, even in a school and town without a library and thus with limited access to books. And by high school, that love of words expanded to writing.
Fifth and sixth graders at Vesta Elementary School in the late 1960s. I’m in the back row, far right, next to the windows. (Photographer unknown; photo sourced from my personal photo album)
I want to pause here and stress the importance of passionate teachers in fostering students’ interests. From Mrs. Kotval reading to her students after lunch to junior high English teacher Mrs. Sales teaching me all the parts of grammar to high school teacher Mr. Skogen requiring students to keep journals, their influence on me and my eventual career was profound. I would go on to earn a college degree in mass communications, leading to a career as a journalist, writer, poet and photographer.
That brings me full circle back to Laura Ingalls Wilder, who early on influenced my detail-rich writing and photographic styles. In 2017, I became professionally connected to the author via “The World of Laura Ingalls Wilder—The Frontier Landscapes That Inspired The Little House Books.” Author Marta McDowell chose three of my photos (including one of prairie grasses at sunset) to illustrate her 396-page book documenting Wilder’s life and relationship to her environment. Perhaps some day my granddaughter will open the pages of McDowell’s book and find the photos taken by her grandmother. Whether Isabelle becomes an environmentalist or something vastly different, I expect she will always care about the earth and her role in saving it.
I love this positive message posted on a rear vehicle window. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
WE STOOD OUTSIDE the local library, minutes before the 9 am weekday opening, waiting for staff to unlock the front door and let us inside. Rather than wait silently, I struck up a conversation with the elderly man next to me. I’ll always choose talking to a stranger over saying nothing. That’s my nature.
Via conversations, I have met many interesting individuals, listened to their stories, sometimes shared mine. It’s all about pausing, about truly taking the time to engage others in meaningful ways, if even for a minute or ten.
On this morning, I learned that I was talking to a 94-year-old Korean War veteran. We had an instant connection as my dad also served in the “Forgotten War.” I sensed immediately that my new acquaintance did not want to talk about anything war-related and I respected that. My dad had been the same.
Instead I veered to a safe topic, this veteran’s early appearance at the library. “I have nothing else to do,” he said. My heart hurt at his words as I imagined how long his days stretch before him. He comes to the library to read newspapers. Not books. He struggled to read books in high school and never attempted since.
As we walked through the now open library doors, he ahead of me, I had one more thing to say. “I challenge you to read a book.” I doubt he will. But that’s OK. He reads newspapers, watches sports on TV. And on this day, he shared just a bit of his life story with me. And I felt honored to hear it.
Vintage dresses for sale at Antiques Plus in New Ulm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo March 2021 used for illustration only)
AT THE ANTIQUE SHOP
Weeks prior, I found myself unexpectedly assisting a bride-to-be as she tried on vintage dresses at a local antique shop. Tall and slender with a thick braid falling to the side of her left shoulder, Angela radiated beauty inside and out. I offered to zip the zipper-back dresses she was considering for her October rehearsal dinner. She slipped into a flared pink dress that, even on her slight frame, fit too tightly. Next Angela donned a sleeveless chocolate brown wool dress that seemed custom-made for her. But I wanted to be honest. “Wool can be itchy,” I warned. She agreed that the heavy, textured fabric did feel a bit uncomfortable. Finally, I zipped the last dress—a long white sleeveless dress in a nubby fabric. When Angela expressed doubts about wearing white, I advised she’s the bride and can wear whatever she desires.
I left before Angela made a decision on the vintage dresses. But I didn’t leave before I learned that she works as an engineer at a medical device company in the metro and that she loves her job. What a joy to meet a young woman so devoted and passionate about her profession. That gives me such hope. We also shared a faith-filled moment, one which I will keep private between me and Angela. I consider her an angel in every sense of the word and felt blessed to have met her.
Roxy of Owatonna sent me a clutch of uplifting mini cards which I can give to others. She has been such an encourager to me during my recent health struggles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
IN A GROCERY STORE PARKING LOT
Last Saturday, I experienced another uplifting moment, this time in a grocery store parking lot. The auburn-haired teen wheeling my cart full of groceries to the van asked about my plans for the rest of the day. I had none, I said, then asked about hers. She was meeting friends after work. As we parted, I told her to have fun with her friends. And she wished me a good day. Again, I felt such hope. This young woman could have simply pushed the cart, unloaded the groceries and said nothing. But she chose to engage. That says a lot about her character, her humanity.
It is everyday encounters like this which fill my spirit. Life offers so many opportunities to connect, to be there for one another. Whether to converse, to encourage or to zip the backs of vintage dresses for a bride-to-be, opportunities await us. We need only pause, listen, care.
This image shows heavy traffic along Interstate 35 north of Faribault, BEFORE road construction started. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2023)
MATTHEW. CIMBERLY. MONA. DENNIS. They ranged in age from 63 to 79. And they all died this summer as a result of crashes in a construction zone on Interstate 35 just north and south of Faribault. Add to that multiple other crashes, including an August 20 six-vehicle chain reaction pile-up resulting in life-threatening injuries to two women, and this stretch of roadway has quickly become known as unsafe and deadly.
Faribault Fire Chief Dusty Dienst in mid-July publicly encouraged local residents to avoid this section of the I-35 corridor as construction continues into November and then resumes again next year. Dienst’s warning came shortly after two semis collided in a fiery crash on July 12. Dennis, a trucker from South Dakota, died of his injuries 16 days later. And Dienst’s warning came nearly a month before the latest three fatalities.
Mona from east central Minnesota died on August 11 and then Matthew and Cimberly, a couple from Iowa, two weeks later in crashes in the same area of the northbound lanes just south of Faribault.
Local residents are rightly concerned. I am, too. We are avoiding the interstate and have told our daughter and her husband, who live 35 minutes north in Lakeville, to “Stay off 35 by Faribault.”
People are quick, on social media, to speculate on the causes of these crashes. They point primarily to speed and distracted driving, without any insider knowledge. Since I don’t know the facts, I won’t assume anything. The Minnesota State Patrol, the investigating entity, can determine the causes. I will say, though, that I have witnessed my share of distracted and dangerous driving (tailgating, speeding, weaving…) on I-35 and other interstates/freeways both inside and outside the Twin Cities metro. That’s both in passenger vehicles and in semi trucks.
The fact is that four people died within a month in the construction zone on the interstate near Faribault. They leave loved ones and friends grieving their tragic, unexpected deaths.
Every time I hear sirens now and watch as the ambulance speeds by my house, I wonder if yet another crash has occurred along the interstate. Every time I hear and see an air ambulance flying near my home, heading toward the hospital, I wonder if yet another person has been airlifted off the interstate with critical, life-threatening injuries. Every time traffic builds on my street to a steady, higher volume than usual, I check local media for reports of yet another serious crash along I-35 by Faribault. The street past my house is a backroad route between Medford and Faribault, although not the official detour off 35.
And I wonder, what can be done to improve safety so no one else is injured or dies in the I-35 construction zone in Rice County? Something needs to change. And soon.
A student watches a video of Martin Luther King, Jr. in the “Selma to Montgomery: Marching Along the Voting Rights Trail” exhibit at St. Olaf College, Northfield, in 2015. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)
WE ALL HOLD DREAMS. Hopes and desires and wishes that improve our lives. Financially, mentally, emotionally and otherwise. Perhaps they are dreams directed inward. Or they are dreams for others in our lives, especially our loved ones.
Sixty years ago today, Martin Luther King, Jr. revealed his dream at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC. His was a powerful speech packed with powerful words that resonated as much on August 28, 1963 as they do today:
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today.
Visitors could photograph themselves at the “Selma” exhibit and express their thoughts. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)
King’s statements in “I have a dream” held the hope of Americans denied very basic civil and voting rights simply because of their skin color. A year later, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 became law, prohibiting discrimination (and segregation) in public places. Passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 followed, assuring the right to vote. But the struggle continued as it does today for people of color.
Back in 1964 and 1965, I was too young and too far removed from the Civil Rights Movement to have any knowledge of what was happening in the world beyond my childhood home in southwestern Minnesota. I lived in a rural area of primarily Germans and Scandinavians, where the only difference was in religion. Either you were Lutheran or you were Catholic with a few Presbyterians, Methodists and Brethren tossed in.
I don’t recall ever seeing a Black person. Few, if any, lived in Redwood County. Indigenous Peoples lived on nearby reservations to the east and to the west by Morton and Granite Falls. But I never saw the Dakota, never interacted. Mine was a world of whiteness. Now I am the mother-in-law of a man whose father is black, his mother white. I’ve heard my son-in-law’s unsettling stories of what it’s like to be a Black man in America today.
Opinions expressed in the “Selma” exhibit polling place. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)
Today I live in a place of varied colors and cultures. For that I feel thankful. At the core, we are all just people with hopes, desires, wishes. We all hold dreams, no matter our skin color.
Outside Pawn Minnesota, a pirate mannequin standing next to a generator generates interest in a block party. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
PIRATES WERE, AND ARE, by profession plunderers, thieves who attack and rob ships at sea. Even though violent criminals, they have often been romanticized. We’re fascinated by the lore of these daring marauders while simultaneously frightened.
But at least one pirate, spotted recently in historic downtown Faribault far far from any sea, was on the good side of the law. Admittedly he was not real, but rather a well-dressed mannequin wearing an eye patch and sporting a hook hand. On his realistic-appearing right hand, the pirate wore bejeweled gold rings upon his thick fingers.
And he held a sign promoting a Customer Appreciation Block Party from 11 am – 5 pm Saturday, August 26, at Pawn Minnesota, 230 Central Avenue. The party includes free food while supplies last and music by Nacho Y Su Herencia Musical.
A block party in itself is not unusual as a way to celebrate and market a business. But a pirate used as a promotional tool is, well, interesting. It achieved its purpose by catching my eye, enough for me to pause, photograph and feature.
This pirate, unlike real pirates, aims to serve a greater good via Saturday’s block party. Attendees are encouraged to bring cash and canned food donations for the local St. Vincent de Paul Food Shelf. St. Vincent, according to its website, provides “a wide variety of food and grocery items to help out our brothers and sisters in need. Our goal is to be a reliable source of free food that can help nourish those we assist.”
There are income guidelines to qualify for assistance.
Beyond food, the Faribault nonprofit provides household items, clothing, shoes, bedding and kitchenware to those in need. With ever-rising prices, the need remains high. I’m thankful to live in a caring community with places like St. Vincent, the Community Action Center, church food pantries and more. Free dinners are also available every Tuesday at the Community Cafe, housed in the Cathedral of Our Merciful Savior.
And for the pirate holding that block party sign while standing next to a portable generator, I have some kind words. I now believe pirates can change their ways. And generate goodness.
A side view of a section of Faribault’s historic viaduct. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
ARCHITECTURE, ART AND HISTORY meld on an expansive structure connecting Faribault’s east and west sides.
The viaduct reflects in the Straight River in the early evening light. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
Locally referred to as “The Viaduct,” the continuous concrete rib arch bridge routes pedestrians and traffic along Minnesota State Highway 60 over railroad tracks and the Straight River far below. Three massive reinforced arches distinguish this as a viaduct rather than a bridge.
Piers and under the roadway up close. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
Thousands of times I’ve crossed the viaduct via vehicle in my 41 years living here. But not until recently did I pause to really study the underbelly of this 1937 Works Progress Administration project which is on the National Register of Historic Places. Only via a close-up look from ground level did I fully appreciate this engineering feat.
I followed Randy along this path leading to the tracks. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
I followed a narrow dirt trail through trees and underbrush in Teepee Tonka Park to reach a good viewing spot of the viaduct underside. From that perspective next to the train tracks, I observed the way patterns and lines repeat to build a strong structure that has withstood the test of traffic and of time. The bridge was rehabilitated, the roadway widened in 2008-2009.
Hanging out under the viaduct. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
The viaduct impresses in design and size. I felt dwarfed by its massiveness, even more noticeable when I spotted a couple sitting on the far end. They appeared small in comparison to the concrete piers rising above and around them. I felt overpowered, too. I wondered how WPA workers managed to build this wonder in the late 1930s without the modern equipment of today.
Westbound on the viaduct, Buckham Memorial Library is to the left and the Immaculate Conception Church steeple in the distance. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2022)
But it is more than utilitarian construction that marks this viaduct as noteworthy. The viaduct is a work of public art—an interactive sculpture which provides a sweeping view of historic downtown Faribault and the surrounding area when heading westbound. To view the bridge from below is to truly see its artsy side, its Art Deco/Classical Revival style. That style carries through in the concrete piers and, on road level, in the decorative railings and lights, replicas of the originals.
The viaduct is a marvelous work of architecture, art and engineering. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
As I stood under the viaduct studying its design, artsy arches, curves and lines, I considered the many people who have traversed this bridge. If only this concrete could speak, oh, the stories it would tell. Stories of construction workers who labored for 1½ years to complete this project. Stories of Ford Model As, among the first to drive across this linkage between east and west. Stories of students arriving at the Minnesota State Academies for the Deaf and Blind. Stories of athletes heading to hockey camp at Shattuck-St. Mary’s School. Stories of prisoners transported to the Minnesota State Correctional Facility, Faribault. Stories of ambulances racing across the viaduct toward the hospital. Stories of expectant parents headed there, too. Stories of families and students on their way to River Bend Nature Center. Stories of travelers simply passing through Faribault.
On the east side of the river, a road passes the viaduct and leads to Teepee Tonka Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
For 86 years, The Viaduct has gathered stories atop graceful arches, upon a roadway that is more than a route. This is a local landmark, an architectural and artistic marvel which visually and historically defines Faribault.
THE IMPORTANCE OF CONNECTING annually as an extended family remains a high priority for the descendants of Tom and Betty Helbling. This past weekend 52 of us from four states gathered at a central Minnesota lake home. We laughed. We talked. We shared memories and made new ones. We played. We ate together under two screened tents, some people spilling to tables outside. And it was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.
I was determined, even with my ongoing health challenges, to make the 3.5-hour trip so I could be with Randy’s family—the sisters, the brothers-in-law, nieces, nephews, great nieces and nephews. Some were missing, like the brothers from Michigan, North Dakota and Missouri and their spouses, a niece and nephews, and two of my adult children living in southeastern Wisconsin and Boston. It’s a given that not everyone can make it every year to the mid-August gathering.
It takes a lot of inflatables and other water toys for all the kids at the Helbling family reunion. The loon floatie, purchased as part of a fundraiser for the soon-to-be National Loon Center in Crosslake, was a big hit. The loon is Minnesota’s state bird. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
BEYOND CONVERSATIONS
But for those of us who can attend, it’s always a good time. We do more than simply visit, although that’s certainly important. We also engage in activities that get us up and moving and interacting. There’s the annual corn hole tournament and BINGO for all ages. Even the adults participate, coveting jars of homemade salsa, jams, jellies and honey from the farm. Randy brought home his sister Cheryl’s cherry jelly. Kids delight in winning sidewalk chalk, markers, craft kits and more. No kid leaves without a prize. Most adults don’t either.
The younger kids, nearly 20 strong, packed so much into the reunion days. Swimming. Playing on the beach. Fishing from the dock. Riding bikes around the circle drive. Five-year-old cousins Autumn and Amaris even performed on a pedal-less tricycle of sorts, attempting three spins before a wildly cheering audience.
Horseshoe Lake, beach and dock, pre-reunion. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2023)
WATER-BASED FUN
Boat rides given by my niece Lindsey’s husband, Brent, proved wildly popular with the kids. The young father of three with a fourth due in November was busy, and likely worn out, from all those trips across and around the lake. My granddaughter Isabelle, 7, declared the boat rides “awesome.” Why? “We went really fast,” she explained. Ah, yes, speed. All kids were accounted for when the boat docked.
The water theme continued on land with a water balloon fight in the afternoon. Izzy hesitated, until I suggested she join the younger kids and avoid the older boys who threw with determined force. Eventually adults were caught in the crossfire, even hostess Rosie who had gone to a balcony to photograph the chaos below. And then Katie targeted her cousin Jonathan, who ended up with a bucket of water dumped over his head, just as he handed off his cellphone. What memories…
A section of a tri-fold family photo board. That’s Miranda in the middle photo looking up. Her grandma is right above her in a 1970 photo, which I adore and had never seen. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)
PHOTOS AND STORIES
Randy’s oldest sister, Annette, put together a photo board. My great nieces Katherine and Sierra studied the images, trying to determine identities. “I can’t believe that’s my mom,” Katherine said of a baby photo of her mom, Jocelyn. Likewise Sierra struggled to believe a long-haired young woman was her grandma, Cheryl. Even I, and I almost hate to admit this, didn’t recognize my own daughter initially. I looked at a photo of a toddler and thought, “she looks familiar.” Well, of course, my brain reacted in a delayed response, “that’s your daughter Miranda.”
I also learned something about Miranda after paging through journal entries from an annual Helbling aunts and cousins get together that spanned from 1996-2008. Miranda penned a note about alternative casino plans with cousins Lindsey and Katie with one adding a postscript about going clubbing. What fun those teens must have had writing that message. I laughed, then photographed the note to text to Miranda in Wisconsin.
Tom and Betty Helbling in 1988.
HONORING BETTY
This is all the stuff of memories. This journal kept through the years. The treasured family photos. The conversations and family updates shared after lunch. The games and boat rides and water balloon fight and BINGO and free play. And then the jigsaw puzzle exchange, honoring matriarch Betty, lover of jigsaw puzzles and gone nearly 30 years already (way too soon at age 59). I love the Helbling family, which I’ve been part of for 41 years now. I cherish their love and support. And I cherish our time together at the annual family reunion.
Monarch on milkweed flower at the Rice County Master Gardeners Teaching Gardens, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2023)
ADMITTEDLY, A TIME EXISTED when I considered milkweeds to be, well, weeds. A weed, by definition, is an unwanted plant. And my farmer dad didn’t want milkweeds growing in his Redwood County soybean fields. So we—meaning me and my siblings—were instructed to eradicate milkweeds, cockle burrs and thistles while walking beans.
If the term “walking beans” is unfamiliar, it simply means walking between soybean rows to remove weeds either via pulling or hoeing, preferably yanking so as to assure root removal. This was a necessary, albeit unpleasant, task assigned to farm kids who labored and sweated under a hot summer sun. The reward was a clean field. And a grateful farmer father.
Occasionally, this job paid…if done for anyone other than Dad. One summer my cousin John hired my sister Lanae and I and two of our cousins to walk his beans. As the oldest among the four, I was the designated crew leader, quickly thrust into settling arguments between my two cousins. I decided then and there that I wasn’t management material.
Milkweeds flourish at River Bend Nature Center, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
But back to those milkweeds. Now, some 50+ years later, my opinion about milkweeds has changed. I no longer pull them. I plant them and then allow them to go to seed. And this year I have a bumper crop growing in my flowerbeds, much to my delight.
Milkweed flowers are not only beautiful, but also smell lovely. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)
Milkweeds are the host plant for monarch butterfly larvae, the reason I grow this food source. I want to do my part to protect the monarch, today considered to be endangered. I’ve been rewarded with monarchs flitting among my phlox and other plants in my tangled mess of flower gardens.
The other evening, while walking in a local park, I watched two monarchs swooping and dancing in a pre-mating ritual. Their aerial acrobatics impressed me like a line of well-written poetry. In many ways, their performance was poetry. Beautiful. Creative. Mesmerizing. Connective in a way that touched my spirit.
If my farmer dad (gone 20 years) heard me describe monarchs in this context, he may just shake his head and wonder about that poet daughter of his. And he would wonder even more whether I learned anything from pulling milkweeds all those summers ago in his southwestern Minnesota soybean fields.
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FYI: You can learn about monarch butterflies and how you can help them, see caterpillars, then hike to look for monarchs during a 10-11:30 a.m. Saturday, August 19, program at the Nerstrand Big Woods State Park amphitheater. Minnesota Master Naturalist Katy Gillispie is leading the Friends of Nerstrand Big Woods State Park free “Monarchs and Milkweeds” event. A state park parking pass is required for entry to the park near Nerstrand.
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