Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

A tribute to internationally-known Minnesota wildlife photographer Jim Brandenburg April 8, 2025

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A bison photo by Jim Brandenburg hangs to the left and the photographer talks about his work in a video, right, inside the Brandenburg Gallery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

IN MY EYES, he was Minnesota’s best-known photographer. Exceptionally talented. No one even comes close to matching the wildlife and nature photography of Jim Brandenburg. He died April 4 at the age of 79. Not only has Minnesota lost a creative icon, but so has the world. Brandenburg’s prolific work was featured in National Geographic Magazine, earning him the publication’s coveted Lifetime Achievement Award in 2023. His award-winning photos were widely-published internationally. He also published numerous books featuring collections of his photos.

The entry to the Brandenburg Gallery, located in the Rock County Courthouse square. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

But there is perhaps one lesser-known place where Brandenburg’s images can be found. And that’s in the Brandenburg Gallery inside the historic Rock County Courthouse in his hometown of Luverne. That’s in the extreme southwestern corner of Minnesota. The prairie. My prairie.

Light plays upon walls, floors and Brandenburg photos in a stairway display. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

Eleven years ago I toured that gallery, studying and enjoying a sampling of Brandenburg’s images. Many in this collection are prairie-themed. Because I’m a photographer, I viewed his photos with a more focused perspective, noticing angles, light, background and all the components which come together in creating an outstanding image.

Some of Brandenburg’s photo books. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

Every photographer understands that light is the very basic element to consider in shooting photos. Brandenburg challenged himself to take a single picture per day between the autumnal equinox and the winter solstice. The result is his collection of photos, Chased by the Light: A 90-Day Journey, a favorite of mine among his books.

Beautiful natural scenery on the prairie near Blue Mounds State Park. The part of the prairie where I grew up is not rocky like this and is a bit further north. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

When I traveled to Luverne in 2013 to visit the Brandenburg Gallery and other attractions, including Blue Mounds State Park, I was returning to the wide open land and big skies of the prairie, the place that shaped me as a person, photographer and writer. The same can be said for Brandenburg. He loved the prairie and, in fact, established the Brandenburg Prairie Foundation aimed at southwest Minnesota native prairie education, preservation and expansion. His organization partnered with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to purchase nearly 1,000 acres of untilled Rock County prairie, creating Touch the Sky Northern Tallgrass Prairie National Wildlife Refuge.

Those environmental efforts are revealing. Brandenburg cared deeply about the land, especially the prairie. After college, he returned to the prairie and worked as a picture editor at The Worthington Daily Globe. While there, he freelanced for National Geographic Magazine. And so his career developed until he became that homegrown photographer whose work so many worldwide grew to appreciate and love.

Wolf photos displayed in the Brandenberg Gallery. Brandenburg’s published books include Brother Wolf–A Forgotten Promise. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

I admire photographers who excel in the craft. And Brandenburg certainly excels in wildlife photography, a specialized field that requires much more than understanding photo basics. Photographing wildlife requires incredible patience and knowledge of animals. I have neither. But when you look at a Brandenburg photo, it’s like you are right there up close with the subject. Perhaps a wolf—one of his favorite subjects. Or bison. You can see the deep respect Brandenburg holds for these creatures of the wild.

A familiar scene to me, autumn leaves photographed in the Big Woods of Minnesota, within 20 miles of my home and showcased in the Brandenburg Gallery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2013)

And then there’s landscape photography which, when done well, draws you into a scene and evokes an emotional response. Again, Brandenburg has this seemingly effortless ability to capture the essence of a place and connect it to his audience.

Minnesota has lost an incredibly gifted photographer. But Brandenburg’s legacy lives on in his work, a gift to all of us. And one place to find that is in the Brandenburg Gallery in Luverne. On my beloved prairie. On Brandenburg’s beloved prairie.

FYI: The Brandenburg Gallery, 213 E. Luverne St., is owned and operated by the Luverne Area Chamber of Commerce. It’s open from 8 a.m.-5 p.m. Monday-Friday and from 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Saturday. Admission is free. All photos featured in this post were taken with permission of the Brandenburg Gallery in 2013.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Grieving Naomi & how you can help March 7, 2025

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Naomi Biel, December 10, 2024 – February 9, 2025

TO LOSE A CHILD of any age is heartbreaking. But that is reality for Nyakueth Biel, a young mother rooted in my community. She is grieving the February 9 passing of her baby girl, two-month-old Naomi, in Brooklyn, New York.

Nyakueth’s daughter will be remembered during a funeral service at 12:30 p.m. Saturday, March 8, at my church, Trinity Lutheran in Faribault, before she is laid to rest at Maple Lawn Cemetery. No mother should have to bury her child, especially an infant.

I think of my own newborn grandson, who will soon turn two months old. And then I think of darling Naomi and her grieving mom, grandma, aunt and uncle. Pain runs deep.

Naomi’s obituary describes her as a very happy and healthy baby who was deeply loved and brought immense joy to those around her. And then she died. Unexpectedly. Within nine weeks of her December 10, 2024, birth.

SUPPORT IN LAYING NAOMI TO REST

And now Nyakueth, who is facing unfathomable grief, is also facing financial challenges in paying for her daughter’s funeral expenses. And that’s how you can help. Nyakuan Daniel has started a GoFundMe fundraiser, “Support for Nyakueth Biel in Laying Baby Naomi to Rest.”

Nyakuan Daniel explains:

We are reaching out to our community for support during this incredibly difficult time. Any contribution, no matter how small, will go toward covering funeral expenses and ensuring that Nyakueth has the support she needs as she navigates this heartbreaking loss. Your generosity will help ease her financial burden so she can focus on healing and honoring the memory of her precious daughter.

What wonderfully loving, supportive, heartfelt and heartbreaking words.

If you are able and so moved, I encourage you to contribute anything you can to help Nyakueth. The fundraising goal is $16,000. Click here to reach the GoFundMe page.

SHOWING COMFORT, LOVE, COMPASSION…

I personally comforted Naomi’s grandmother shortly after her granddaughter died. She was waiting for her daughter to arrive in Faribault from New York. I wrapped Nyayual in a tight hug, held her hands, prayed with her. And then I organized with friends to help the family financially. While our gift is small compared to Nyakueth’s needs, it helps. But more so than the money, it is the love, compassion, care and support that matters the most. We want Nyakueth and her family to feel the love of their faith family and many others.

As Nyakuan Daniel writes in her GoFundMe letter: Let us come together to support Nyakueth and show her that she is not alone in her grief. And that, my friends, is within our power to do.

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NOTE: If you prefer not to donate via GoFundMe but still wish to support Nyakueth with a financial gift, please reach out to me and perhaps I can help. I’m offering this option to those of you who know me personally and have my personal contact information.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Remembering singer Roberta Flack February 24, 2025

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My vintage single of Roberta Flack’s hit song, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2025)

WHEN ROBERTA FLACK SANG, her words flowed effortlessly. Soothing. Her voice like poetry singing words of love.

Flack died today (Monday) at age 88, news which pulled me back to the early 1970s and her Grammy award-winning singles, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” (1973) and “Killing Me Softly With His Song” (1974). I love those two hits of new love and of love exposed.

I filed through my vintage 45 rpm vinyls until I found Flack’s, then dropped the record onto the turntable to once again immerse myself in feelings of young love. I was in high school when Flack’s singles released and then became Billboard hits.

The songs are universal in theme, undeniably beautiful in delivery. At least that’s my perspective as a Baby Boomer who can’t read a single musical note, can’t carry a tune and knows she likes a song when she likes it.

The timing of Flack’s death during February, Black History Month, seems worth noting, too. She accomplished much as a Black woman. At the age of 15, Flack received a full scholarship to Howard University, a historically Black private college in Washington DC. She earned a bachelor’s in music in 1958, going on to teach music while also pursuing a singing career. Clearly, she accomplished her goals.

(Book cover sourced online)

In researching her background, I learned of a 2023 children’s picture book autobiography, The Green Piano: How Little Me Found Music, written by Flack and by Tonya Bolden with illustrations by Hayden Goodman. The title references a piano Flack’s father found in a junkyard, then refurbished and painted a grassy green. Flack was nine years old when she got that first piano. That it came from a junkyard reminds me of the bicycles my maternal grandfather pulled from the junkyard, repaired, painted and gifted to me and my siblings. I was just as thrilled to have my own bike as Flack was to have her own piano.

Flack’s backstory of growing up in a family that valued music and recognized her talent is a love story, too. If only every child would be loved so deeply and encouraged to follow his/her dreams, what a beautiful world this could be.

TELL ME: Whose music do you appreciate and why? And if you remember Roberta Flack, I’d like to hear your thoughts on her and her work.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Remembering Mom three years after her death January 13, 2025

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Me with my mom in January 2020, right before COVID restrictions stopped visits to care centers. I saw little of Mom in the final years of her life due to the pandemic. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2020 by Randy Helbling)

TODAY, JANUARY 13, MARKS three years since my mom died. I hadn’t intended to write about this anniversary date. But then two friends blogged on topics that changed my mind.

My dear friend Beth Ann from North Carolina, who blogs at It’s Just Life, writes today about observing a grocery store encounter between a daughter and elderly mother that reminded her of her sweet mom whom she lost several years ago. The point of Beth Ann’s post is that grief comes in the most unexpected of moments and hits you hard. She’s right.

Hot fudge pudding cake slathered with real whipped cream and topped with sprinkles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Then my friend Sue, who lives in Minnesota, winters in Arizona and blogs primarily about food at Ever Ready, published a post featuring Hot Fudge Sundae Cake. Waves of nostalgia and grief swept over me as I scrolled through Sue’s post. Hot Fudge Pudding Cake, as my family called this delectable, easy-to-make dessert, was a favorite of Mom’s and of me.

Neither Sue or Beth Ann could have known I would be reading their words on the third anniversary of Mom’s death. But I did. And it was meant to be because my grief needed an outlet. My friends’ writing prompted me to write this post.

The cover of the altered book created by Kathleen. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

In the process of writing, I headed upstairs to pull a mini keepsake book from a closet. My friend Kathleen, formerly of Minnesota and now of Idaho, created the altered book for me following my mother’s death. She tapped into my blog to pull quotes, information and photos that truly summarize Mom’s life and our relationship. The book brims with words of love, faith, family and farm life, all at the essence of my mom. It truly is one of my most treasured possessions.

The first page in the keepsake book shows my mom holding me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

So on this day, while the grief of losing Mom feels particularly heavy, it is the creativity of friends that comforts me. Beth Ann’s “Right There in the Baking Aisle” resonates. Sue’s shared recipe brings smiles as I remember. And Kathleen’s keepsake mini altered book stirs within me so many memories of the mom I loved, and still love.

TELL ME: Who are you grieving? What can spark your grief? What comforts you in grief?

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Inspiring words for all of us from President Jimmy Carter’s funeral January 9, 2025

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Encouraging words posted near a garden in the heart of downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THEIR WORDS WERE MOVING, heartfelt, inspiring. Words that spoke to a selfless, loving, compassionate and kind man. Qualities we should strive to emulate.

It was not lost on me, as I watched the televised funeral of President Jimmy Carter this morning, that some of those attending the service at the National Cathedral in Washington DC have veered far from those traits. When you’re in public office, you are held to higher standards. Or at least you should be. I hope the politicians in the crowd were listening intently.

But I don’t want to get into a political discussion here. Rather, I want to offer a recap of the eulogies that really resonated with me.

A partial quote by civil rights leader and Senator John Lewis displayed on a window in Dundas, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I was especially impressed with the message delivered by Carter’s grandson Jason Carter. As I listened to this young man speak with such sincerity and eloquence, I thought, he should run for President some day. He spoke of a grandfather who was the same in public as in private, living a life of love and respect. Love. Respect. I can respect a man who, along with his wife, washed and reused plastic bags (as do I), still had a landline with dangling cord (I do) and wore crocs (I don’t). Jason brought laughter to the Cathedral while getting across his strong messages of faith, love and respect.

Peace art by Gracie Molden, Faribault Lutheran School, previously displayed at a student art show at the Paradise Center for the Arts. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Then there’s Ted Mondale who read the eulogy written a decade ago by his father, Vice President Walter Mondale. The stand-out lines written by the elder Mondale were these: that he and Carter “told the truth, obeyed the law and kept the peace.” Those words repeated in my head. I found myself thinking, if only all leaders held to those principles.

An especially bright spot in the heart of downtown Faribault is the Second Street Garden, a pocket garden with positive messages. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2019)

President Joe Biden, a long-time friend of Jimmy Carter and likewise a man of faith, focused on strength of character. Carter was, he said, a man of character who treated everyone with dignity and respect. There’s that word again—respect. He called Carter “a practitioner of good works” who followed the guideline of “love thy neighbor as thyself.” That statement followed Biden’s comment that faith requires action. I agree. There’s no doubt Carter lived his faith given his humanitarian work. Carter, Biden said, lived a life filled with the power of faith, hope and love.

From my personal art collection, peace dove art by Jose maria de Servin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

The Rev. Andrew Young, former US ambassador to the United Nations, spoke of a President who grew up as a minority in Sumter County, Georgia, among the majority Black. He celebrated Carter’s ability to get along with everyone, saying the President loved all of God’s children.

Certainly, many additional meaningful words were shared. But these are the messages that struck me as specific, yet broad. Words for all of us. Words that should inspire us to live better, be better.

It was fitting, too, that the gospel reading came from Matthew 5:1-16. That includes The Beatitudes from Jesus’ sermon on the mount and the four verses following. Blessed are…the poor…the meek…the peacemakers… Blessed are those who mourn.

On this national day of mourning for 100-year-old President Jimmy Carter, I feel inspired. Inspired to let my light shine (Matthew 5:16), not in a spotlight-on-me kind of way, but as someone who can light the world by being kind, caring and compassionate. By living a life of love and respect.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Honoring President Jimmy Carter & a related personal story January 8, 2025

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President Jimmy Carter in 2014. (Photo credit: LBJ Presidential Library)

HONEST. COMPASSIONATE. HUMBLE. All describe President Jimmy Carter, who died December 29, 2024, at the age of 100 and whose national funeral will be held Thursday at the Washington National Cathedral. A private funeral and burial will follow in Plains, Georgia.

In many ways, the name of Carter’s hometown, Plains (minus the “s”), describes this soft-spoken man. He was the son of a peanut farmer, grew up in a house without electricity or indoor plumbing, took over the family farm upon the death of this father. Having grown up on a family farm, in a home without a bathroom and closely rooted to the land, I understand Carter’s plain beginnings.

That Carter would go on to become governor of Georgia, the 39th President of the United States, winner of the Nobel Peace Prize and a beloved humanitarian proves that anyone can come from the plainest of places and make a positive difference in this world, emphasis on the word “positive.”

Peace on a tombstone at Valley Grove Cemetery, rural Nerstrand, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2024)

BUILDING A LEGACY OF SERVICE

Certainly, Carter was not perfect—no one is—but the legacy he leaves is, at its core, that of service to others. We should all strive for that. To do good. To help others. To show love, kindness and compassion. For Carter, nowhere was that more evident than in his post-presidency work with Habitat for Humanity. He didn’t just pose for photo ops. He picked up a hammer and actually helped build Habitat houses.

He also built world peace. During his presidency, Carter helped negotiate a peace treaty between Israel and Egypt in 1979. His efforts led to signing of the Panama Canal Treaty in 1977. His work in the areas of peace, democracy, human rights, and economic and social development earned him that coveted Nobel Peace Prize.

“Blessed are the peacemakers” fits President Jimmy Carter. This is a tombstone at Valley Grove Cemetery, rural Nerstrand. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2024)

AN INTERNATIONAL CRISIS & MY CONNECTION

I was just finishing college and starting my career in journalism when Carter was in and ending his presidency. In 1981, while working as a newspaper reporter for the Mankato Free Press, I covered a major national event with a Carter connection. That was the homecoming of Bruce Laingen, one of 52 Americans held hostage for 444 days in Iran. Laingen, a native of Minnesota, was the top American diplomat at the U.S. Embassy in Tehran when protesters stormed the embassy in November 1979. Carter tried unsuccessfully to get those hostages released. On January 20, 1981, the day President Ronald Reagan was sworn into office, the hostages were finally freed. The timing of that release was obviously deliberate. Carter’s re-election bid failed in part due to the hostage crisis.

In my work as a reporter for the Free Press’ St. James News Bureau (my apartment) I covered the southern Minnesota angle on that international crisis. I drove from St. James to nearby small town Odin several times to interview Arvid Laingen at his business, the Odin Feed Mill. We talked about his brother Bruce and his captivity in Iran. I remember photographing Arvid against the feed mill backdrop, American flag draped from the building. When Bruce and the other hostages were released, I joined my regional editor and a Free Press photographer in covering Laingen’s homecoming parade in Odin. Well wishers lined the streets on that cold winter day. Yellow ribbons, which had become a national symbol of hope during the hostage crisis, ringed trees.

My work as a young journalist for a regional southern Minnesota daily newspaper connects me indirectly to President Carter. I admire Carter’s efforts to free the hostages. I can appreciate how defeated he must have felt as days ticked by and the Americans remained in captivity. But he did not let defeat define him. Carter went on to do incredible work worldwide after leaving the highest office in the country. Anyone who remains humble and serves selflessly earns my respect. Carter was clearly a man of integrity, of principles, of faith, someone who never forgot his roots. If only others in public office followed his path of plainness…

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Five especially memorable personal moments in 2024 December 31, 2024

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Time passes… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THE END OF A YEAR always evokes a time of personal reflection. A time to consider the events, the moments, the feelings, the blessings that stood out in the 366 days passed. I’ve selected five, from the many, that happened in my life. Certainly, there’s much more that affected me personally. But these are ones that imprinted deeply upon me.

My unborn grandson’s room, photographed at Thanksgiving. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)

1. A BLESSING BREWING

The year 2024 brought incredibly joyful news to my family. That news came in a six-pack of all natural & locally brewed craft beer from Big News Brewing Co. My second daughter and her husband brought the beer in August, when they arrived from Madison, Wisconsin for the annual Helbling family reunion.

I was excited to taste this beer from a new brewery (so I was told) in Madison. I pulled out a bottle, read the label, BABY Boyd IS BREWING—ARRIVING JANUARY 2025, and realized this was no ordinary beer. I was about to become a grandma for the third time. Miranda and John pulled off the surprise. I was so focused on the journalistic aspect of the Big News Brewing Co. name that I totally missed the bare baby feet graphics on the necks of the bottles. Soon that baby boy will arrive.

A message from Barb, published in the memorial folder at her funeral. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2024)

2. THE BLESSINGS OF FRIENDSHIP

On the flip side of birth is death. And in 2024, I lost a dear friend, Barb, to cancer. We have been part of the same couple’s bible study group for some 20 years. I’ve lost track. As she neared the end of life, Barb and her family opened their doors wide so family and friends could come and go. We carried in meals and, more importantly, love. Barb, no matter how awful she felt, always had time for visitors. Her strength, her unwavering faith, her cheerful attitude uplifted all of us. She understood the value in being together, of approaching death with courage and faith. Of saying goodbye.

But it was after Barb’s funeral, as her casket was wheeled out of church to the waiting hearse, that I felt the full blessings of the friendship we (and by “we” I mean our bible study group) shared. Barb had chosen the guys as pallbearers. We six women stood side-by-side waiting as our husbands gathered around the casket. I stretched out my arms, motioning for my friends to come close, to wrap our arms around one another. There we stood, a line of women linked. Linked in grief, friendship and love. It was a powerful moment.

Flags for countries of origin displayed at a past International Festival in Faribault celebrating my community’s diversity. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

3. A BLESSING FROM A NEW FRIEND

Also powerful was the moment I met a Venezuelan immigrant while on a walk in Faribault’s Central Park. Adolfo was pushing his one-year-old grandson, Milan, in a stroller when I paused to greet them. I learned that Adolfo had fled violence and Communism in his home country and wanted desperately to get his family to America. His pain was palpable. “We’re so happy to have you here,” I told my new friend. Adolfo responded with a broad smile and the words “God bless you” as he made the sign of the cross and held his hands to his heart. I will forever cherish that moment and the memories of the morning I met Adolfo and Milan in Central Park.

A graphic of the first coronavirus. Source: CDC

4. BLESSING ANOTHER

I am also grateful for the opportunities I’ve had in 2024 to encourage a young man, whom I’ll call J, in his struggles with long haul COVID. A friend, after a short conversation in a grocery store parking lot, connected me to J’s mom and from there the door was opened. I understand how devastating this diagnosis. I spent six months in vestibular rehab therapy in 2023 trying to overcome the many debilitating symptoms of long haul COVID. I’m better now, but still experience residual, primarily with sensory overload issues.

J’s case is much more severe than mine, especially physically. He had to drop out of college, used a wheelchair, struggled with overwhelming symptoms too numerous to mention. I tried to offer him hope, support and encouragement. Empathy, compassion and understanding. I also referred him to my physical therapist, whom J is now seeing. Few people understand this chronic condition, or even make an effort to understand, which makes working through long haul COVID even harder. That I could take my experiences and help J, and his mom, has helped me, too. I can see the good in a very difficult year in my life when I was basically home-bound. Empathy and the capacity to help others grows with each challenge we face in life.

Randy and I with the mandala our son crafted for us. (Copyrighted photo by Caleb Helbling)

5. BLESSED WITH LOVE

Finally, my last memorable moment of 2024 came just recently with a Christmas gift from my son, who was visiting from Boston. Caleb gifted Randy and me with a mandala he laser cut from plywood, stained and glued together. Six layers. When I realized what it was, I wept. I cried because of the love Caleb’s gift represents. I cried because I recognized the time, effort and thought he put into crafting this artwork for us. Hearts theme the piece. It speaks “family.” If art can capture love, this mandala holds endless love.

And so 2024 ends. A year that brought joy and sadness. But also a year overflowing with love…from family to friends to community.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Honoring Cpl. Ray Scheibe & others who died in war May 27, 2024

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Honoring words on the Northfield Area Veterans Memorial. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2023)

THE WOOD-GRAIN cardboard shoebox, tattered around the edges, sits on a closet shelf in an upstairs spare bedroom. This box once held size 8D loafers from Pedwin Shoes for Men. Those are long gone, replaced by black-and-white photos, postcards, a military belt, documents and more.

This May 1953 photo, taken by my dad, shows his friend, Ray Scheibe, left, and other soldiers in Korea. (Photo credit: Elvern Kletscher)

A lime green note atop the lid identifies the contents as “Important stuff,” underlined twice, belonging to my dad, Elvern Kletscher. The papers and photos inside are the stuff of war, the Korean War. Dad served as a U.S. Army infantryman on the frontlines, earning the Purple Heart for injuries sustained in battle.

A July 31, 1953, memorial service bulletin from Sucham-dong, Korea. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo)

But this story is not about my father, who survived combat and returned home to southwestern Minnesota, albeit permanently scarred by the trauma of war. This is about 28 men from the 2nd Battalion, 65th Infantry Regiment, who died in Korea. Their names are typed inside a July 31, 1953, memorial service bulletin my dad carried home from war. The folder is creased in quarters, worn, letters fading. I’ve opened it many times. I imagine my Dad did, too, as he read the names listed in alphabetical order from A to Z. Turrell Anderson to Vernie Zurn. Near the end of that list, the name of his buddy, 22-year-old Raymond W. Scheibe.

A story about Cpl. Ray W. Scheibe, published in the July 23, 1953, issue of The Wolbach Messenger.

On June 2, 1953, the day before Ray was to leave Korea and return to his wife, Marilyn, and 3-month-old daughter, Terri Rae, in Wollbach, Nebraska, he died. Blown apart by a mortar shell, his horrific death witnessed by my father. I don’t think Dad ever fully recovered from the trauma of losing his friend. Who would?

(Photo credit: Sonny Nealon, Ray’s best friend in high school)

Today I honor Ray and all the other military men and women who have died in service to country. They made the ultimate sacrifice, leaving behind grieving families and friends. “Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” That biblical quote from John 15:13 is typed below the names of the 28 men honored at that July 1953 memorial service in Suchan-dong, Korea. That had to be an overwhelmingly emotional event for the surviving soldiers.

The third page of the memorial service bulletin my soldier dad carried home from Korea. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo)

Seventy-one years after that memorial service, I feel emotional reading the 28 names, recognizing the immense loss, the grief, the trauma. That my dad kept this folder speaks to his grief, compassion and connection to those who fought in Korea. I honor him and those men by keeping this folder and all the other “important stuff” Dad carried back home to Minnesota.

His documents, photos and more are not mere “stuff.” Rather they represent individuals who died in war, who should always be remembered and honored, especially today, Memorial Day.

NOTE: In 2005, with the help of my brother-in-law Neil, who served in the military, I tracked down Ray Scheibe’s daughter, Terri, in southwestern Iowa. We’ve kept in touch all these years, but have yet to meet. Finding Terri brought my dad’s story full circle, bringing me peace. I shared with Terri how much her father meant to mine. To read my story about finding Terri, click here.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

In loving memory of Milton “Mickey” Nelson May 24, 2024

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Audrey Kletscher Helbling and Mickey Nelson inside The Junk Monkey. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo by Randy Helbling, September 2023)

SOMETIMES IN LIFE we meet a person only once. But they make such an impression upon us that we always remember them.

Milton “Mickey” Nelson of Clarks Grove was that person to me. I met Mickey in September 2023 while shopping at a vintage, collectibles and treasures shop in Faribault. After overhearing a conversation between him and shop owner Theresa, I initiated a conversation with Mickey and his daughter Michelle.

Eight months later, on May 14, 2024, this amazing man died, about a month short of his 104th birthday.

Mickey was a remarkable man, not only because of his longevity, but because of his generosity. At age 99, he decided to walk 100 miles by his 100th birthday. That in itself is an accomplishment for a centenarian. But Mickey took his goal the extra mile by raising $115,000 for Salvation Army food assistance during the COVID-19 pandemic via his daily half to mile-long walks in Clarks Grove. He remembered the bread lines of the Great Depression.

That’s the thing about Mickey, a World War II veteran. He cared. I felt that immediately upon meeting him. His smile stretched wide, to the corners of his eyes. He was sharp and engaged and the type of person anyone would be happy to meet, to call “friend.”

In that brief interaction with Mickey, I felt such a connection, as if I’d known this delightful man for years. Michelle confirmed that her dad, too, “valued those (unexpected/everyday) connections.” He had a way about him that made me feel cherished, even though we’d just met.

Today his loved ones and friends are left to cherish his memory, as are those who heard or read his story, shared locally and nationally, perhaps even internationally. I doubt Mickey ever expected that his plan to walk 100 miles by his 100th birthday to raise money for one of his favorite charities would captivate such media attention. But it did, inspiring many.

Mickey’s funeral service is planned for June 27 at First Baptist Church in Clarks Grove, on what would have been his 104th birthday. I think he would have liked that and I hope birthday cake is served. Up until nearly the end, this man of a strong and unwavering faith remained mentally sharp, his daughter Michelle shared. I’m not surprised. Michelle and I kept in touch after our chance meeting at The Junk Monkey eight months ago. I knew her dad had begun failing in late December and soon thereafter entered hospice.

Even through the emotional challenges that come with watching a parent moving toward death, Michelle remained grateful for the remaining time she had with her much-loved father. The bond between father and daughter was strong, loving, caring. That, too, is something to be cherished.

Mickey was remarkable. I feel blessed to have met this man of generous spirit, of kind heart, of compassion and care and love unending. I feel grateful for my time with him. Even if brief, Mickey made such an impression upon me that I will always, always remember him.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The power of faith & friendship when facing loss May 9, 2024

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
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I laid this memorial service folder for my friend Barb upon one of my vintage tablecloths. (Minnesota Prairie Roots May 2024)

WE STOOD SIDE-BY-SIDE, arms stretched around one another, watching as our husbands carried the gray casket and slid it into the waiting hearse. Six friends grieving the death of a seventh.

The day before her 73rd birthday, my friend Barb died from cancer. And here I was a week later, standing outside Trinity Lutheran Church, linked to the women beside me in grief and in love.

My emotions ran high on this beautiful May morning of sunshine and greening spring, of new life rising from the earth on the Monday Barb was laid to rest beneath the earth. I understood she was at peace, in her heavenly home, and that consoled me as tears fell.

Family and friends of Barb were gifted with these nail crosses after her funeral. The cross reinforced the sermon, titled “Nailed It.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)

Her service was signature Barb, one she planned. One that proclaimed her strong faith in words and in music. Oh, so much music, because Barb loved music. Our friend Steve sang “Who Am I?” Friend Char slid her bow across her violin, accompanying children as they sang “Jesus Loves Me” and later as mourners sang one of my favorite contemporary Christian songs, “10,000 Reasons.” Galen played “Beautiful Savior” on his harmonica, another favorite of mine and of my dear friend Barb. There was more music, so much that Barb wanted, some of which had to be trimmed lest the service got overly long.

Sitting in the front pew, just steps from Barb’s casket, I immersed myself in the service. I laughed when her brother-in-law Dave, the presiding pastor, shared that Barb instructed him to “shake them up” with his sermon. He did. When he spoke of hell and then abruptly stopped and sat down, I wondered if he was so overcome with emotion that he needed to pause. Not so. It was that “shake them up” moment Barb requested. He returned to the pulpit to finish his sermon with loving words of grace.

Our bible study group gifted this garden stone and pansy bowl in Barb’s favorite purple to her family. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)

Barb loved her Lord, her family, her friends, old-time TV shows (particularly “Andy Griffith” and “The Beverly Hillbillies”) and the color purple. There was purple everywhere—flowers, ties, dress shirts, table coverings. Purple overflowed alongside love. Love in so many hugs. Love in words spoken by Barb’s eldest son. Love from God. Love surrounding us.

During the final weeks of her life, Barb continued to love on all of us, even as she lay bed-ridden. I would drop off a meal for her family, hoping to uplift my friend. And she uplifted me. She, who was dying. She never let me leave without kissing my cheek. I hold that precious memory now, the warmth of her lips pressed against my skin. To have that time with her to say goodbye eased me into her death. This time was a gift, as Barb’s husband, my friend Mike, reminded me, reminded all of us.

A loving message from Barb, printed in her memorial folder.

Barb gave so much, even in choosing the men who would carry her casket—Randy, John, Steve, Noel, Mark and Jeff. All of us friends, together in a long-time Bible study group. Twenty years of reading and studying God’s Word, of praying for one another, of growing in our faith and friendship. We have been through a lot together. Uplifted one another.

And here we were on this lovely spring morning, walking into church together behind the casket, behind the cross. Filling two pews at the front of the church. Listening and singing and crying and laughing. And then later filing out, waiting silently in the narthex, then outside. Reverently.

As the six guys moved toward the casket, we wives gathered on the side and I instinctively motioned for Debbie, Jackie, Mari, Mandy and Sonja to come closer. I needed to feel their closeness, the strength that comes from love and friendship in shared grief. It was a powerful and emotional moment standing together in a row, arms wrapped around one another. I felt Barb’s love embracing us. I heard her words, too: I thank Him for each of you. Our family and friends, I love you!

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NOTE: I will miss my friend Barb and other loved ones I’ve lost in 2024: Uncle Robin; my brother-in-law Dale; and Aunt Jeanette. This has been a season of grief.