Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

When watching high school football is about more than just the game November 2, 2015

The St. Croix Valley Crusaders and the Jackson County Central Huskies line up before the game starts Saturday afternoon.

The St. Croix Lutheran Crusaders and the Jackson County Central Huskies line up on the football field before the game starts Saturday afternoon.

I DRESSED IN MY BUFFALO PLAID red and black on Saturday. Not because I wanted to portray Mrs. Paul Bunyan on Halloween. Rather, I was showing my support for the St. Croix Lutheran High School football team which Saturday afternoon competed against Jackson County Central in state play-offs. My nephew, Stephen (number 87), plays tight end for the red-attired Crusaders.

 

Football, 120 scoreboard

 

Sometimes the action looked like nothing but a pile of players to me.

Sometimes the action looked like nothing but a pile of players to me.

While the St. Paul based school pushed hard to win, they couldn’t defeat the Huskies, a husky and formidable team from southwestern Minnesota. The final score: 44 – 26.

Gustavus Adolphus College in St. Peter hosted the game.

Gustavus Adolphus College in St. Peter hosted the game.

The Halloween themed sign held by the JCC cheerleaders.

The back of the Halloween themed sign held by the JCC cheerleaders.

JCC players run through the sign and onto the field for the start of the second half.

JCC players run through the sign and onto the field for the start of the second half.

Certainly, seeing my nephew’s team win on the football field at Gustavus Adolphus College in St. Peter would have been a Halloween treat. But, JCC dominated, proving the truth in the words the players busted through before starting the second half:

Trick or treat, smell our cleats. The Huskies can’t be beat.

JCC cheerleaders fire up the crowd.

JCC cheerleaders fire up the crowd.

Crusaders fans, including Winnie the Pooh. Some students dressed in Halloween costumes.

Crusaders fans, including Winnie the Pooh. Some students dressed in Halloween costumes.

My brother, right, and friends watch the game.

My brother, right, and friends watch the game.

The Crusaders pep band infused school spirit.

The Crusaders pep band infused school spirit.

The spirit of JCC fans, led by enthusiastic cheerleaders, impressed me. Not that Crusaders fans weren’t supportive. We were. I can vouch for my sister-in-law’s continual encouraging screams. My youngest brother stood behind us, several bleacher rows away in an aisle, chewing gum super fast and focusing his eyes on the field the entire game. St. Croix Lutheran came with a pep band. But no cheerleaders. Students seemed subdued for a play-off game.

Occasionally, the clouds parted and sunshine shone upon the football field.

Occasionally, the clouds parted and sunshine shone upon the football field.

Ready for action...that's my nephew, Stephen, #87 in the front.

Ready for action…that’s my nephew, Stephen, #87 in the front.

Crusaders fans cheer on their team.

Crusaders fans cheer on their team.

I’m a quiet fan, too. I was here on this Saturday to support my nephew. Not in a super vocal way. Simply by my presence. If his team won, good. If they didn’t, they didn’t.

The Crusaders huddle.

The Crusaders huddle on the sidelines.

A ref makes a call.

A ref makes a call.

I found myself studying the varying footwear and leggings.

I found myself studying the varying footwear and leggings.

Repeatedly during breaks in the action, the announcer emphasized respect as highly-important in competition. I value respect; both teams showed respect for each other. But, bottom line, these teams play to win. That’s why they’re on the field.

A sign proclaims Husky Power.

A sign proclaims Husky Power.

It is easy, when you are as far behind as the Crusaders were during the game, when plays just aren’t working, when the other team repeatedly scores, to give up. I felt that in a sense Saturday. JCC was the stronger team. Even I, someone who does not watch football much, could see the Huskies’ dominating power.

Stephen, #87, tackles the JCC player carrying the football.

Stephen, #87, tackles the JCC player carrying the football.

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St. Croix Lutheran and Jackson County Central in action.

A JCC player prepares to throw the football, left.

A JCC player prepares to throw the football, left.

This is the first football game I’ve attended in probably 40 years. I don’t know many of the nuances of the game. But that’s OK. I understand the basics.

Several Crusaders players left the field with injuries.

Several Crusaders players left the field with injuries. Here teammates support one another.

And I understand the value in being with family—on this Saturday four of my five siblings and their spouses—to support Crusaders number 87. This is what families do. They support and encourage one another. In good times and difficult times.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Commemorating a Minnesota barn’s 100th birthday, Part II September 29, 2015

 

A welcoming scene staged next to the barn and attached milkhouse.

An inviting scene staged next to the barn and attached milkhouse.

FROM THE MINUTE I received a verbal invitation to the barn dance, I noted the event on the September 26 square of my kitchen calendar. Not only would I be celebrating the 100th birthday of the Becker family barn. But I would also be celebrating my birthday. How sweet is that?

Posted inside the barn...

Posted inside the barn…

With my deep rural Minnesota roots and appreciation for aged barns restored and maintained, this party suited me. Hosts John and Debbie Becker, Rice County crop farmers, are dear friends, a salt-of-the earth couple who cherish faith, family and farming.

Guests pulled up to tables and dined on hot beef and pork sandwiches, salads and more.

Guests pulled up to tables and dined on hot beef and pork sandwiches, salads and more.

And they know how to throw one heck of a party in their 100-year-old barn, in the Becker family since 1948.

Garden goods provided for great fall decorating.

Garden goods provided for great fall decorating.

One of numerous parking attendants waits for vehicles to arrive.

One of numerous parking attendants waits for vehicles to arrive.

The kitchen crew, and Debbie, prepare for guests to arrive.

The kitchen crew, and Debbie, prepare for guests to arrive.

Posted on the pie table.

Posted on the pie table.

Debbie, the eldest in a family of I’ve lost count how many siblings, could be a professional party planner. She’s that good at food planning, decorating and remembering every single detail of creating a memorable and fun event. John is right there beside her, assuring, too, that everything comes together. They complement one another. And even though they pulled in family and friends—for decorating, parking, kitchen duty, bartending, pie judging and more—ultimately they are the ones who managed to plan for and welcome 300-plus guests to their farm.

The kids all wanted rides on the golf cart.

The kids all wanted rides on the golf cart.

This little guy wouldn't even set down his toy John Deere tractor to stack over-sized Jenga blocks.

This little guy wouldn’t even set down his toy John Deere tractor to stack over-sized Jenga blocks.

The pie table drew lots of kids because...

This farm-themed pie drew lots of kids to look and some to play.

By far the most creatively-staged pie.

By far the most creatively-staged pie.

Lots of visiting inside and outside the barn.

Lots of visiting inside and outside the barn.

One family member flew in from England. And I overheard, mid-evening, young boys protesting their family’s early departure. I watched kids scramble onto a golf cart for rides with the guy giving lifts from parking areas to barn. A smile curved my mouth at the sight of young boys clutching John Deere tractors, a wee sweet girl in pink cowgirl boots peering at pies, and circles of folks visiting in the barn.

The opportunities for sweet portraits in the golden hour of photography were endless.

The opportunities for sweet portraits in the golden hour of photography were endless.

My dear friend Mandy arrives with her pear-gingersnap pie still warm from the oven. It was absolutely delicious as I sampled it after the pie judging.

My dear friend Mandy arrives with her pear-gingersnap pie still warm from the oven. It was absolutely delicious as I sampled it after the pie judging.

My husband tried on this abandoned cowboy hat. But it was several sizes too small.

My husband tried on this abandoned cowboy hat. But it was several sizes too small.

The scenes unfolding before me appeared down-home rural Americana—girls swaying in a weathered porch swing, a guest bearing pie for the pie-baking contest, a straw cowboy hat resting on a picnic table.

I photographed darling Ava at the last barn dance and her mom asked me to photograph her again. Daylight was fading. Yet I managed to snap a cute portrait.

I photographed darling Ava at the last barn dance and her mom asked me to photograph her again. Daylight was fading. Yet I managed to snap a cute portrait.

A grandma and her grandkids dressed in western attire for the barn dance.

A grandma and her grandkids dressed in western attire for the barn dance.

Many a farmer, including my dad, carried a hankie/bandanna in his pocket.

Many a farmer once carried a hankie/bandanna in his pocket.

Although costumes were not required, vintage or western attire was encouraged. I tied a red bandanna around my neck and called it good. But the kids, oh, the kids. So cute in their cowgirl/cowboy hats and garb. And even some adults dressed western style in flannel shirts and hats, in bibs or with red hankie in pocket. Many sported western boots.

While two girls sway on a swing, another builds blocks.

While two girls sway on a swing, another stacks blocks.

Debbie and John, loving aunt and uncle that they are, assured the kids had plenty to do, passing along to the next generation memories connected to family and the old barn.

 

Barn dance, 108 wheel in front of barn

 

FYI: Click here to read my first post about the barn dance. And check back tomorrow for one final post.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Celebrating a Minnesota barn’s 100th birthday with an old-fashioned barn dance September 28, 2015

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The band, Downtown Sound, sets up inside the Becker barn for a 10th birthday barn dance.

The band, Downtown Sound, sets up inside the Becker barn for a 100th birthday barn dance.

THE OLD BARN was all decked out with rural décor.

 

Barn dance, 24 Dekalb sign & corn

 

Barn dance, 84 wagon display

 

Barn dance, 30 bouquet

 

Guests gather in a corner near a display of Becker family farm photos.

Guests gather in a corner near a display of Becker family farm photos. The images are displayed on the exterior of the bathroom built into the barn.

Ear corn and seedcorn signs. Washboard and washtubs. Gourds and pumpkins. Fresh-cut zinnias, cosmos and other garden flowers in jars. Red-and-white checked gingham tablecloths. And in a corner, a collection of family and barn photos.

 

Barn dance, 127 Becker barn banner close-up

 

Across the end of the hayloft, just above the section where the band, Downtown Sound, was setting up, and below an American flag, a banner blazed Becker Barn Dance 1915 – 2015.

The sun sets on a perfect September evening on the Becker farm.

Guests gather on the hayloft deck as the sun sets Saturday evening.

John and Debbie Becker purchased the farm from John's dad, Herb, in 1988.

John and Debbie Becker purchased the farm from John’s dad, Herb, in 1988.

John and Debbie Becker purchased the farm from John's dad, Herb, in 1988.

John and Debbie Becker

 

Hundreds gathered on a perfect September Saturday evening at the John and Debbie Becker farm just west of Dundas along Rice County Road 1 to celebrate the birthday of a sprawling 36-foot by 100-foot barn built in 1915. One hundred years ago.

Family arrives for the barn dance and party.

Family arrives for the barn dance and party.

A vintage photo of the Herb and Dorothy Becker family. The current barn owner, John, is the youngest in the family.

A vintage photo of the Herb and Dorothy Becker family. The current barn owner, John, is the youngest in the family.

Family and friends visit before the meal and dance.

Family and friends visit before the meal and dance.

But this party was about more than commemorating this century-old massive barn in the Becker family since Herb and wife, Dorothy (both now deceased), purchased the farm in 1948. It was also about a coming together of family—only one of the elder Beckers’ descendants was missing—and friends to celebrate the land, farming and the rural way of life.

A view of the farmyard and barn dance guests from a hayloft window.

A view of the farmyard and barn dance guests from a hayloft window.

Posted in the barn

Posted in the barn, a photo of the Becker farm and an appropriate saying.

Aunt and nephew at the barn dance.

Aunt and nephew at the barn dance.

As I gazed through an open hayloft window at the crowd mingling in the farmyard below, I considered how thankful I am to have grown up in rural Minnesota, to have this close connection to the land and to extended family. Just like the Becker family.

The sun spotlights machine sheds. Vehicles parked in every nook and cranny on the farm.

The sun spotlights machine sheds. Vehicles parked in every nook and cranny of the farm.

Wagons rolled.

Wagons rolled.

A vintage swingset proved a popular spot.

A vintage swingset proved a popular spot.

Playing games...

Playing games…

Here, on this evening when the sun set a brilliant gold across ripening corn fields and edged shadows around silos, kids rumbled wagons across gravel, pumped legs high on an aged swingset, covered eyes in an old-fashioned game of hide-and-seek. It was like a flashback to yesteryear for me, back to simpler days when kids played with imagination and folks took time to visit.

 

Barn dance, 28 interior barn overview 2

 

Nostalgia prevailed on this September evening of a near full moon. Host John Becker briefed guests on the history of the barn, known long ago for its neighborhood barn dances. In his youth, long before he bought this farm, John’s father attended dances here, where men sat on one side of the hayloft, women on the other. On this evening, all generations mingled in the hayloft and John reminded them to be thankful to the Lord for the harvest.

 

Barn dance, 36 barn dance sign outside barn

 

I was thankful to be here, sitting on a bench on the newly-constructed deck off the hayloft. Gazing at the peak of the barn toward the evening sky scattered with stars. Inside the band played Sweet Caroline as the autumn breeze cooled me.

 

Barn dance, 268 dark barn interior band area

 

Later I would twirl, in my husband’s arms, across the cornmeal slicked plywood floor to a polka, flap my elbows to the chicken dance and rock it out to I Fought the Law (and the law won) and many more tunes. I danced until my muscles ached. And I smiled, oh, how I smiled. It’s been a long time since I’ve had this much fun, since I’ve forgotten the worries of life and immersed myself in the joy of a memorable evening with friends.

 

Barn dance, 131 plate of food

 

Barn dance, 148 family in food line

 

Barn dance, 118 fall themed pie close-up

 

Judging pies.

Judging pies.

The food was equally as memorable with savory beef and pork sandwiches from Nerstrand Meats, baked beans and an assortment of salads and bars brought by guests. Later, after judges sampled pies in the pie-baking contest, plated pies presented a dessert smorgasbord. And if that wasn’t enough, sausage and cheese, chips and dip and other snack foods were available for grazing later.

The side entry into the hayloft.

The side entry into the hayloft.

Some six hours after we arrived, Randy and I descended the steep walk-way into the hayloft and followed the gravel drive past the grain dryer (next to the yard light) toward vehicles parked on the lawn. We threaded our way toward our car, music fading as the distance widened between us and the 100-year-old barn.

FYI: Check back for more photos from the barn dance in additional posts tomorrow and thereafter.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Minnesota Faces: September bridal couple September 18, 2015

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Portrait #40: Carlyn & Jared

 

Portrait 40, Jared and Carlyn

 

Aside June, September is the most popular month for weddings in Minnesota. That’s according to my unofficial, brief online research. I believe it.

My parents were married in September. So was my eldest daughter. And last September, my niece Carlyn married Jared.

They were wed in Walnut Grove, childhood home of Laura Ingalls Wilder. It was a stunning autumn day, a reason September proves popular for weddings. The church was packed, the flower girls and ring bearers restless and cute.

And I was there with my camera, in an unofficial capacity. I’ve photographed weddings for family in the past, but won’t any more. I can do without the drama, emotions and challenges. I much prefer to shoot journalistic style images without the pressures of portrait photography.

Which brings us to this photo, taken as Carlyn and Jared’s wedding guests tossed birdseed at them. I love everything about this frame—the light, the motion of the seed showering the couple, the blur of the crowd, Jared’s loving glance at his bride, Carlyn’s smile. It captures a moment of celebration and love. On a beautiful September afternoon in southwestern Minnesota.

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Minnesota Faces is featured every Friday on Minnesota Prairie Roots.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A fabulous Fourth with family on the Minnesota prairie July 7, 2015

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The extended Kletscher family poses for a photo on the Fourth of July. Seven are missing.

The extended Kletscher family poses for a photo on the Fourth of July. Eight are missing.

FAMILY AND THE FOURTH. For years now, and no one remembers for how long, my extended family has gathered to celebrate the Fourth of July. Early on, we met at Flandrau State Park in New Ulm, a half-way point. But now we all travel to my middle brother and his wife’s southwestern Minnesota acreage for the holiday. Some of us stay overnight given the distance to rural Lamberton.

Teaching the next generation how to grill brats.

Teaching the next generation to grill brats.

It’s a day that focuses on fun, food and family.

Opposing teams step up to play Family Feud.

Opposing players step up to play Family Feud with the only non-family member in attendance hosting the game. Her hand is substituting as a bell.

We talk and laugh and compete and tease, building memories or reliving them. There’s something about the bond of family that roots deep into the soil. And, no matter the seasons that pass, family love remains—strong, resilient, enduring.

My son and his grandma.

My son and his grandma.

The view from the patio is this newly-completed waterfall and pond. Beautiful.

The view from the patio is this newly-completed waterfall and pond. Beautiful.

Lawnchairs were lined up to watch...

Family members lined up in lawn chairs to watch croquet.

My eldest daughter takes her turn during one of many games of croquet.

My eldest daughter takes her turn during one of many games of croquet.

Lots of beverages were consumed, including Shiner Bock beer.

Lots of beverages were consumed, including Shiner Bock beer.

The youngest ones rough-housed with the high school student.

The youngest ones rough-house with the high school student.

Little hands and feet got dirty. But no one cared.

Little hands and feet got dirty. But no one cared.

Eighty years spanned those in attendance with my 83-year-old Mom as the eldest. Here she is with my youngest brother, right, and my oldest brother behind.

Eighty years spanned those in attendance with my 83-year-old Mom as the eldest. Here she is with my youngest brother, right, and my oldest brother behind.

At the end of a long day, my three-year-old great nephew grips his grandpa's hand.

At the end of a long day, my three-year-old great nephew grips his grandpa’s hand.

The hit "toy" of the day were the vintage trikes belonging to my sister-in-law.

The hit “toys” of the day were my sister-in-law’s childhood tricycles.

My great nephew barrels his way between the lawnchairs on his way to an imaginary fire.

My great nephew barrels his way between lawn chairs.

We dined on brats, burgers, BBQed ribs and an assortment of delicious foods at supper time.

We dined on brats, burgers, BBQed ribs and an assortment of delicious foods at supper time.

Awards were handed out in the evening. The specifics of those honors shall remain within the family.

Awards were handed out in the evening. The specifics of those honors shall remain within the family.

When darkness fell, out came the sparklers.

When darkness fell, out came the sparklers and glo sticks.

It was a beautiful prairie evening for sparklers.

It was a perfect prairie evening for sparklers on the Fourth.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A Father’s Day portrait June 21, 2015

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Randy napping on Father's Day.

 

AFTER A ROAD TRIP to Owatonna for a Father’s Day picnic at beautiful Morehouse Park, my husband kicked back in the backyard with the paper. It wasn’t long before he was sleeping, getting a much-needed nap on a glorious day.

To all of you father’s out there, I hope you had a fabulous celebration with those you love. We love and appreciate you.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Minnesota Faces: A three-year-old from the prairie June 19, 2015

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Portrait #28: Hank

Portrait 28, Hank

Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo of Hank from 2013.

 

I wish I lived closer to sweet Hank. But my great nephew and his parents (and soon to be sibling) live nearly 125 miles away in Walnut Grove, childhood home of author Laura Ingalls Wilder. I see Hank only a few times a year at family gatherings. But such is life these days with extended families separated by many miles, sometimes even by oceans.

Hank, though, is lucky enough to have his paternal grandma and a beloved auntie caring for him while Mom and Dad work. He is loved by many near and far.

This Saturday, Hank turns three. I expect he will have quite the birthday party.

If you’re fortunate enough to live near relatives, I hope you appreciate that close geographical connection. And if you don’t live near family, I hope you’ve found your own circle of friends to embrace and love and support and care for you. We all need each other to get us through the rough patches and to celebrate those occasions when life is as simple and good as it was when we were three.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Remembering Brittney at a rural Faribault cemetery May 5, 2015

HUNDREDS OF TIMES during the past 30 years, I’ve passed North Grove Cemetery along busy Minnesota Highway 3 between Faribault and Northfield.

The entrance to North Grove Cemetery, which sits along Minnesota Highway 3 north of Faribault. The building once housed a church.

The entrance to North Grove Cemetery, which sits along Minnesota Highway 3 north of Faribault. The building once housed a church.

Not once have I stopped to explore this final resting place sheltered by trees butting a small white church. You know how it is. If you pass something often enough, you fail to notice it after awhile.

The flash of red that caught my eye.

The flash of red that caught my eye.

That is until recently, when a flash of red in a corner of the cemetery caught my eye. My husband, whose vision is far superior to mine, managed to read the words—WE LOVE u BRittnEY—on the handcrafted sign cornered with four red hearts.

There was no time to tour the graveyard that day. But on a recent Saturday, we stopped.

The memorial to Brittney Landsverk.

The memorial to Brittney Landsverk.

In this small Norwegian cemetery, I found an abundance of markers for Oles and Sophias who died long ago. But my focus was on the corner memorial created for 20-year-old Brittney Rose Landsverk. Five years have passed already since her April 2, 2010, tragic death flooded my community of Faribault with grief.

Brittney drowned after the young man she was dating drove a car in which she was a passenger into the nearby Cannon River. Mitchell Bongers would later admit to drinking, plead guilty to criminal vehicular homicide and receive a four-year prison sentence.

A loving, permanent tribute to Brittney.

A loving, permanent tribute to Brittney.

I cannot fathom the agony Ron and Kelly Landsverk endured while searchers looked for their daughter’s body in the twisting Cannon River. Eighty-seven days of wondering and waiting. And then, a life-time of grief at the loss of their only child.

Words of love for Brittney expressed.

Words of love for Brittney expressed.

I don’t know the Landsverk family. But I am a mother and a part of the Faribault community. That is enough to connect me to them. When a child dies in such a senseless and tragic way, the impact is far-reaching. It touches all of us.

Visitors to Brittney's memorial can write a message on the bench.

Visitors to Brittney’s memorial can write a message on the bench.

Visiting Brittney’s memorial, I got a sense of who she was, what she loved, how much she was loved/is still loved and missed.

Items attached to a fence  reveal more about Brittney.

Items attached to a fence reveal more about Brittney.

She was a young woman who apparently liked Cheetos and Mountain Dew, Hello Kitty and butterflies.

Brittney's memorial is next to her grandparents' grave.

Brittney’s memorial is next to her grandparents’ grave.

Born in South Korea, Brittney Rose arrived in her parents’ arms on May 1, 1990. She is named after her paternal grandmother, Rose. Brittney’s memorial is located next to Rose and husband Kenneth’s gravesite.

Roses abound, including these on the fence.

Roses abound, including these on the fence.

Roses grace the memorial. The flowers seem symbolic beyond honoring Brittney Rose’s name. To me they also represent that adage, “Stop and smell the roses.” We never know when the roses may cease to bloom, when their sweet scent will merely linger in the memory of our days.

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Click here to read my first post on North Grove Cemetery.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

When fashion wins over horses April 29, 2015

FOR AS LONG AS I CAN REMEMBER, my now nearly 83-year-old mom has been enthralled by the Kentucky Derby.

I purchased this stunning 24-inch x 18-inch paint-by-number painting for a song last fall at a Wisconsin second-hand/collectible/antique shop. The scene reminds me of the Kentucky Derby. Interestingly enough, on the official Derby website store, paint-by-number horse paintings are available for purchase.

I purchased this stunning unframed 24-inch x 18-inch paint-by-number painting for a song last fall at a Wisconsin second-hand/collectible/antique shop. The scene reminds me of the Kentucky Derby. Interestingly enough, on the official Derby website store, paint-by-number horse kits are available for purchase.

This week I asked her why, something I felt compelled to know because, well, time slips away and then we wish we’d asked these questions. So I phoned her at her assisted living apartment 120 miles away in southwestern Minnesota, catching her right before lunch.

“It’s because of the hats they wear, not because of the horses,” she replied. And here, all along, I thought her Derby interest was fixed on the horses.

She continued: “It’s unbelievable to me what kind of crazy hats they wear. They’re so big.”

The fancy hat I purchased months ago for a Kentucky Derby party.

The fancy hat I purchased months ago for a Kentucky Derby party.

In that moment I wished Mom could join my husband and me for the Big Hats & Big Hearts Annual Auction for the Arts and Kentucky Derby Party at the Paradise Center for the Arts in Faribault from 4 p.m. – 7 p.m. Saturday. That celebration includes viewing of the race, live and silent auctions, and Derby food and drinks.

Kentucky Derby hats

Kentucky Derby hats at The Crafty Maven, 212 Central Avenue, on display in early April.  Photo courtesy of The Crafty Maven.

A bonus is the current gallery exhibit, “A great place to hang your hat,” running through May 5 and sponsored by The Crafty Maven. That downtown Faribault shop offers an assortment of Derby hats and will even custom embellish hats for the big race day.

While I’m sitting in the Paradise theatre watching the Derby on the big screen, my mom will have her TV tuned to the festivities. She’ll review the list of contenders and choose a horse solely on liking its name. That’s precisely how I pick a horse. Neither of us cares about their rankings, only the names.

Names of past Derby winners are listed on a commemorative drinking glass gifted to me by my friend Beth Ann.

Names of past Derby winners are listed on a commemorative drinking glass gifted to me by my friend Beth Ann.

Of the 140 Kentucky Derby winners, I remember only one—that of triple crown and 1973 winner Secretariat. Aristides won the first race in 1875. Reviewing the list of horses for the 141st Derby run, Bold Conquest grabs my fancy.

My vintage paint-by-number horse painting up close.

My vintage paint-by-number horse painting up close.

I wonder which horse Mom will choose. She’s never been to Churchill Downs, but years ago attended several races at Minnesota’s Canterbury Park. The Shakopee horse race track is hosting a Kentucky Derby party on Saturday. Mom and her sister Rachel selected horses at Canterbury based on liking their names. Once, though, they picked a horse co-owned by the son of the veterinarian from my hometown.

My friend Beth Ann, who spoils me, gifted me with official Kentucky Derby mint julep glasses from 1986 and 1991.

My friend Beth Ann, who spoils me, gifted me with official Kentucky Derby mint julep glasses from 1986 and 1991.

I wish Mom could travel to Louisville, sit in the stands in a big fancy hat and sip mint juleps. She’s always wanted to attend the Derby. But at her age, she never will. Life is like a horse race. Sometimes we win. Sometimes we don’t.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

An April Fool’s legend from the Minnesota northwoods April 1, 2015

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THIS MORNING MY SISTER EMAILED, advising me to get outside ASAP because the cows were out.

I typed a hurried response: “But the bus is coming. And your toast is burning!”

Neither Lanae or I live on farms any more. So what was going on?

Lanae, unlike me, remembered today is April Fool’s Day. And those three falsehoods were the lame jokes we tried to pull on our siblings every April 1 while growing up on a southwestern Minnesota dairy and crop farm.

With the help of enthusiastic preteens, we decorated the park shelter and a screened tent with bells and crepe paper in honor of Jeff and Janet's 20th wedding anniversary.

In July 2010, the annual Kletscher family reunion was themed to celebrate Jeff and Janet’s 20th wedding anniversary. We decorated for the anniversary, ate anniversary cake, showered Jeff (and the absent Janet) with gifts and held a bridesmaid dress judging contest. Some of the dresses were modeled by attendees. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2010.

Those pranks are mere child’s play compared to the joke my cousin Jeff, who celebrates his 25th wedding anniversary today, pulled off on his unsuspecting parents in 1990. He mailed an announcement of his marriage to Janet at the St. Louis County Courthouse. It was a private affair with only Janet’s daughters, Heidi and Amber, attending.

As the story goes, my Uncle Harold paled upon reading the news. And Aunt Marilyn, in shock, picked up the phone and dialed her daughter, who knew nothing of Janet. Marilyn, already formulating a wedding reception in her mind, called the northern Minnesota school where Jeff taught math. Jeff was summoned to the principal’s office.

When he was finally able to calm down his stunned mother, he advised her to look at the back of the card. There he had typed: rehcstelk ffej morf gniteerg sloof lirpa na.

Backwards, the words revealed: an april fools greeting from jeff kletscher.

There was no northwoods bride, no marriage, not even a girlfriend.

He had just created the stuff of family lore and legend.

My cousin Dawn, with the help of daughter Megan, made two beautiful anniversary cakes for her brother. My Uncle Wally and Aunt Janice made and decorated the less attractive cake with the beanie baby bears.

Cakes served at Jeff and Janet’s 20th wedding anniversary celebration in 2010. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2010.

After receiving my sister’s email this morning, I emailed my bachelor cousin to wish him and Janet a happy anniversary and inquired as to how many years they had been married.

“Twenty-five wonderful years!!!,” Jeff enthused. “I believe we made silver.”

The cake topper from Jeanne and Arnie's wedding with golden anniversary wishes 50 years later.

This wedding cake topper was displayed at a recent golden wedding anniversary. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

No, Jeff, I believe you made gold.

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FYI: Click here to read my blog post about the 2010 Kletscher family reunion where we celebrated Jeff and Janet’s 20th anniversary.

Can you top this April Fool’s prank?

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling