SUN GLARED OFF shiny chrome and gleaming hoods, surfaces waxed to prideful perfection for the monthly Classic Cruise In at Dawn’s Corner Bar in Dundas. The event was a first for me on a Sunday afternoon when I could have attended several other area car shows. But Randy and I chose Dundas.
By car show standards, this proved a small event, compacted into a paved parking lot across the street from the bar along Railway Street North.
While we meandered among the vehicles, which included cars, trucks and a few motorcycles, The Chad Johnson Trio played on the deck behind the bar. I remember only “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” the other songs becoming background music as I tuned into the car show.
But outside and in (I peeked inside), people packed the place, enjoying the music, $2.50 domestic tap beer and $10 cheeseburger baskets. Greg, who drove his 1956 black-and-white Chrysler to the show with a Sears bike strapped to the rear, vouched for the sizable, tasty burgers. I should have thought ahead. But Randy grilled burgers the previous evening and I was neither hungry nor thirsty.
I settled for appreciating and photographing vehicles driven to Dundas for a show-and-tell of sorts on a Sunday afternoon heating up to be a hot and humid week in southern Minnesota.
Conversations flowed as classic vehicle enthusiasts discussed whatever you talk about when you’re really into cars. Randy, who worked as an automotive machinist in next door Northfield for nearly 40 years, talked to former customers. That included a guy who brought an old truck Randy worked on. I hear those stories all the time from grateful customers. Randy was, and is, really good at what he does and knows a whole lot about everything automotive.
I’m more interested in the quirky, the artsy, the unusual. A Big Bird dangling from a Big Bird-hued Firebird brought to mind my second daughter who, as a child, carried her much-beloved yellow Sesame Street stuffie everywhere.
A vintage Honda motorcycle reminded me of my oldest brother revving up his bike, roaring across the farmyard, tires spitting gravel.
I expect nearly everyone attending the show could share a story, for classic vehicles are the stuff of memories.
Grandpa’s car. Siblings piling into a boat of a family car for a road trip. First car. Learning to drive a stick shift. Saturday night at a drive-in movie. A stop at the root beer stand. Racing down a back county road. Young love in a car parked at a dead end. Lights out under an inky dark sky. So many memories and stories.
As I walked among the many classic vehicles, I could only imagine the stories, told and untold. I wonder sometimes if that isn’t the real reason why people own these vehicles. It’s a way of holding onto the past, of connecting with previous generations, of reliving yesteryear, when life was, in many ways, less complicated.
Some may consider their vehicles an investment. And maybe they are. An investment in life as it once existed in quieter, gentler times.
By the end of my walk about the classic vehicles, I’d taken some 80 photos and engaged in several conversations. But mostly, I observed. The setting. The people. The vehicles. The art. After all that, and as the pavement was heating up I needed to cool off in air conditioning. I also needed a drink of icy cold water, although a beer may have hit the spot, too.
FYI: Dawn’s Corner Bar in Dundas hosts a Classic Car Cruise In from 11 a.m.-4 p.m. the last Sunday of the month June-September.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
The value of village, especially now April 7, 2026
Tags: African proverb, art, charity, collection boxes, commentary, community, donations, Faribault, Faribault Community Action Center, food insecurity, food shelf, giving, Minnesota, Operation Metro Surge, Shattuck-St. Mary's School, village
“IT TAKES A VILLAGE to raise a child,” according to an African proverb turned catchphrase by First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton in her 1996 book, It Takes a Village: And Other Lessons Children Teach Us.
While I’ve not read Clinton’s book, I understand the importance of a village, of community, in the lives of children. Kids learn, not only from their parents, teachers and each other, but also from being out and about in their communities.
They learn, and teach us adults, about care and compassion, about service and giving back, of lifting up community. In these days of innumerable challenges in America, such lessons are truly more important than ever.
I need only look within my own core family to see this. In mid-February, my two elementary-aged grandchildren helped their mom, my eldest, transport items from their Lakeville church to a food shelf in nearby Farmington. The kids sorted donated items. And my first grade grandson wrote about the experience for a school assignment complete with illustrations. “I helped at church (beacus (sic) of ICE),” Isaac wrote.
He knew. His mom has been working tirelessly soliciting cash donations, buying and delivering groceries to a south metro food shelf, and sorting and bagging donations during and after Operation Metro Surge. Not only has she assisted those sheltering in their homes, but she has also taught her children an important lesson in helping others.
Kids are never too young to learn about generosity, about loving their neighbors. About giving of themselves in service to community.
That brings me to Shattuck-St. Mary’s, a private college prep school in Faribault. While heading to walk at the Shattuck dome on a recent morning, I noticed several cardboard collection boxes in the public gathering space/hallway of the athletic complex. I stopped to investigate.
While the boxes were empty, I read about their purpose. Students, calling themselves “Sabre Storm,” “The Breakfast Club” and “Team Cheese,” are collecting non-perishable food and household and personal care items for the Faribault Community Action Center.
Most needed are: dry beans, canned soups, ramen noodles, canned chicken/tuna, size 7 diapers and pull-ups. I expect those attending hockey and soccer games, and other activities inside the sports complex will drop donations into the collection boxes.
I love that students like Jorge, Lara, Max, Miranda, Yujin, Rhys, Gael and 38 others, who signed the boxes, are connecting with the Faribault community via this drive. There’s not only a “heightened need” for food, household and personal care items at the Community Action Center, but also for cash donations.
I read that on the CAC website. But I’ve also heard this from a friend who volunteers at the CAC. The increased need all circles back to my grandson’s words, “beacus (sic) of ICE.” Many people in Faribault were sheltering in place, unable to work, during the height of federal immigration enforcement. And just because that operation has scaled back, the crisis has not ended.
The CAC has established a Community Response Fund “to meet urgent and evolving community needs” for food, rental assistance, etc. Every donation helps, my friend says. Even $10.
It takes a village. It takes a village to raise children. And it takes a village to help our neighbors through a crisis, a crisis created by the federal government. A crisis that has left too many Minnesota families facing overwhelming financial challenges, trauma, personal struggles and an uncertain future.
FYI: Please consider making a financial gift to the Faribault Community Action Center Community Response Fund. Click here to learn more. To those of you who have already donated, thank you. I appreciate your generosity during these challenging times in my community. It takes a village.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling