AS THE DAUGHTER of a U.S. Army infantryman who fought on the front lines during the Korean War, I find myself drawn to veterans’ memorials. They seem a sacred space, a place where bravery, service, strength, sacrifice and grief mingle.
Every memorial I’ve visited in southern Minnesota differs from the next. Yet the essence remains the same as a site to honor those who have served, some ultimately dying in service to country.
Memorial Day marks a national holiday to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice by losing their lives. Whether necessary or unnecessary, war is hard and awful. It claims lives, forever changes people, rewrites history, traumatizes. My dad would tell you that. I saw firsthand the trauma Dad experienced from serving in Korea. He killed the enemy, so close he could see the whites of their eyes. He saw his friend blown apart on the battlefield the day before Ray was to return home to his wife and infant daughter in Nebraska.
For every story like this, thousands more exist.
And so every veterans’ memorial is a tribute to the men and women who are more than names and dates on plaques, but individuals with loving families, friends and communities. Individuals with stories from their time in service.
If I let my mind wander while viewing a veterans’ memorial, I can imagine the stories. Inspirational quotes, photos and life-size statues of military members make it easier for me to see beyond the names and dates to real people.
At every southern Minnesota veterans’ memorial I’ve visited, and I’ve been to a lot, statues have only portrayed male soldiers. Until recently. The Owatonna Veterans Memorial includes a female soldier. She stands next to a kneeling soldier with a battlefield cross. And on the far side of the memorial site stands a statue of a Vietnam War soldier carrying his fallen comrade draped across his shoulders.
“All gave some, some gave all.” Sgt. 1st Class Nicole Amor of White Bear Lake gave her all on March 1, 2026. She was among four American soldiers who died after a drone strike on a command center in Kuwait during the Iran War. The wife and mother of two was just days from returning home to Minnesota. Just like my dad’s 22-year-old friend Ray, who was killed in Korea 73 years ago on the day before he was to head home to Nebraska.
This Memorial Day, as this country is once again engaged in war, I wonder how many more men and women will die. How many more names will be added to memorials around the country with plaques noting KIA (killed in action)?
Monday may mean simply a day off to some or the kick-off to summer for others. But Memorial Day is really about honoring the brave men and women who have died in service to country. It’s important to remember that, to attend a Memorial Day parade or program, to walk among gravestones, to visit a veterans’ memorial. To focus on gratitude. To grieve. To remember and honor those who “gave all.”
FYI: The Owatonna Veterans Memorial is located on the northwest corner of 18th Street and Austin Road by the Steele County History Center. The Moonlighters Exchange Club spearheaded the project and fundraising for the memorial dedicated in November 2023.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Westward bound deep into Minnesota farm country May 28, 2026
Tags: agriculture, barns, Brown County, commentary, farm fields, farm sites, farming, land, landscape, Mankato, memories, Morgan, New Ulm, Owatonna, photography, Redwood County, rural Minnesota, sky, southern Minnesota, travel, Vesta
THROUGH SEVEN SOUTHERN MINNESOTA counties we traveled—Rice, Steele, Waseca, Blue Earth, Nicollet, Brown and, then, home to Redwood. Westward bound.
Only occasionally now, mostly for the annual family reunion and on this day a beloved aunt’s funeral, do Randy and I follow this 125-mile route back to my native Redwood County.
Every trip, I see the immensity of sky and land as the landscape unfolds before me. The farther west we drive, the more rural the look, the feel, with the exception of Mankato and New Ulm.
We bypass the small towns along four-lane U.S. Highway 14 while passing endless farm sites and fields.
I have my eye on the view from the passenger side of our van, scanning the land, watching for photo ops. Photography can be a challenge while traveling at highway speeds. Still, I try, managing to capture images that document the ruralness of this place.
Barns, especially red ones, always grab my attention. They symbolize agriculture more than any other building. Yet, most no longer center a farming operation. Absent of animals, many barns have been repurposed or have fallen into heaps of rotting wood. I always appreciate a well-kept barn still standing strong against elements and the passage of time.
This trip I’m also cognizant of crops at the beginning of the growing season. Corn is popping up in rows across the land, green shoots reaching toward the sun, the sky. Green is good. When my next trip this direction comes in late July, that corn will stand towering and dense across acres of fields.
I may not be a farmer, but my connection to the land more than 50 decades removed from my childhood farm remains strong. I still look at the crops. I still hope to spot a herd of Holsteins. I still see a silo and mentally climb the interior ladder to throw down silage. I still eye a grove of trees with the playfulness of youth.
While nostalgia runs high on trips like this deep into Minnesota farm country, reality is that farming remains as challenging as ever with ever-rising expenses, low commodity prices and the uncertainties of weather. Will rain fall when needed? Will storms come with devastating wind and hail? Always, always, the risks exist from planting to growing to harvest.
But on this day, mile after mile after mile, I see the hope of a farmer. I see a way of life. I see dreams.
And I feel small in this place where land and sky dwarf farm sites, where fields stretch across endless acres, where the highway ribbons ahead of us across seven rural southern Minnesota counties, westward bound.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling