Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Flooding in Faribault September 23, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:42 PM
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Sometime between 6 - 6:30 p.m. Thursday, Second Avenue N.W. in Faribault, where it crosses the Cannon River, was closed. Two dams are located next to this stretch of now flooded roadway.

“AREN’T YOU GLAD it isn’t snow?” my husband asks as I review his summary of rain gauge totals from our backyard in southern Faribault:

  • 2.7 inches from 6 p.m. Sept. 22 to 8 a.m. Sept. 23
  • 1.6 inches from 8 a.m. – 6 p.m. Sept. 23
  • Plus whatever rain fell before 6 p.m. Sept. 22, an estimated 1 – 1 ½ inches

We are swimming in water here and the rain continues to fall.

Earlier this evening we toured the town—yes, we were gawkers—and found swollen rivers and closed roads. Four-lane Second Avenue N.W., as it crosses the Cannon River, was flooded with four inches of water and down to two lanes when Randy drove across the bridge around 6 p.m. A half hour later, officials had closed the street.

Near the blocked road and behind the former Faribo Woolen Mill, we met a homeowner in hip waders waiting for the city to deliver sandbags to his riverside home. His property hadn’t flooded yet, but he was worried. He’s lived there since 1985 and never seen the river so high, he says.

Nor have we. Randy has lived here for 32 years. I’ve been here for 28.

Standing atop a bridge on the north end of Faribault, I snapped images of the rushing Straight River. Even from the safety of the road, I felt unsettled, watching as the muddy waters churned and roiled and rushed away, edging away from the constraints of the rain-logged banks.

The rain is expected to continue into Friday.

A view of the raging Straight River from a bridge on the north end of Faribault.

Second Avenue N.W., which crosses the Cannon River, was blocked at Faribault Foods.

The Straight River spilled over its banks into a parking lot and loading dock area at Faribault Foods.

The Cannon River overflowed its banks behind the former Faribo Woolen Mill. Next door, to the left in this photo, a homeowner awaited sandbags to protect his home.

In South Alexander Park, the Cannon River spilled onto park land.

Along Ravine Street, crews kept a watchful eye on the Straight River.

Flood waters caused the closing of a portion of Heritage Place at Heritage Park.

Officials closed flooded TeePee Tonka Park near the Straight River viaduct in the central part of Faribault.

The Straight River on the north end of Faribault continues to rise.

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Most of these photos were taken through the windows of a car in fading daylight.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Post office etiquette 101 September 5, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:56 PM
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OK, LET’S PRETEND you are at the post office at around 9 a.m. on a Saturday. You’re waiting in line with six customers ahead of you—three at the service windows.

Now let’s say one of these customers asks for religious stamps and the postal worker says those are available only at Christmas.

That’s reasonable, you think.

But then the customer asks for “Father D” stamps. Now, you know that a pastor in town bears the name “Father D.” And you wonder, what exactly are “Father D” stamps? Religious, I suppose. But remember, this is September, not December.

“Does he like baseball?” the postal employee asks. “Or cats and dogs?”

By then you’re becoming a bit impatient wondering exactly how many postage stamps are available and which will fit the customer’s request.

“They’re just stamps,” you mutter to the woman who is ahead of you with a tote full of packages. You check your watch and ponder leaving the post office, doing your banking and then returning. Perhaps the finicky customer at the middle window will have departed by then with her clutch of “Father D” stamps, whatever those may be.

But you decide to wait. A man two ahead of you catches your eye and you can tell he is thinking, like you, that this is ridiculous. Can’t this woman see the line of four customers waiting behind her?

Finally, Ms. Ineedjusttherightstamps leaves with her stamps. And although you’re not certain, you’re pretty sure she’s just purchased “Forever” stamps.

THE ABOVE STORY is not embellished/made-up/fictional or anything other than a factual account of my visit to the Faribault Post Office on Saturday morning. Only the name, “Father D,” is fictional.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Celebrating cultural diversity in Faribault at International Market Day August 27, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:59 AM
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An Aztec dancer, garbed in a symbolic headdress entertains the audience during the 2009 International Market Day in Faribault.

TO THE STEADY BEAT of a drum, the 12 dancers sidestepped across the grass, their bodies moving in a rhythmic dance ritual that mesmerized.

As they twirled and kicked and circled just yards away in bare feet blackened by the earth, sweet incense-infused smoke drifted toward me. The smoldering fire of incense, said a member of the Aztec group, Ollin Ayacaxtli, symbolizes cleaning of the air and attracting “the good energy around us.”

The dancing was certainly creating plenty of good vibes among the crowd gathered last August in Faribault’s Central Park for performances by the Northfield/Owatonna-based dancers. Appreciative applause followed each short dance during the Faribault Diversity Coalition’s annual International Market Day celebration.

Everything about the performers spoke to symbolism steeped in deeply-rooted tradition. They dressed in colorful costumes patterned after those of Aztec warriors and adorned with Aztec calendar symbols like butterflies, fire, skeletons and flowers.

The belief that “most things in nature come from two things” is the basis of Aztec thinking, the audience learned in a brief cultural lesson. Nature encircled the faces of the dancers, who wore colorful headdresses sprouting plumes of feathers.

Later I would learn from dancer Jesus Torres of Owatonna that the Aztec culture is all about harmony and about rain, earth, wind and fire, and about respecting elders. The group formed, he said, to teach those involved and others about the tradition, values, costumes and history of the Aztec.

Ollin Ayacaxtli travels to events in Minnesota, Wisconsin and Iowa presenting their symbolic dances that pulse with energy in every dance of the foot, in every beat of the drum, in every shake of a maracas.

Members of Ollin Ayacaxtli perform in front of the Central Park bandshell.

The drums are made from a very old tree and, like our grandfather, are to be respected, the audience was told.

A dancer moved across the grass, bells blending with the drum's beat.

Duo dancers, legs intertwined, danced in a circle.

Smoking incense and shells were integral to the performance with the shells symbolizing the sound that goes across the universe.

A member of Ollin Ayacaxtli dances with the group.

A girl snuggles in her Dad's arms while he watches the Aztec dancers.

EDITOR’S NOTE: I wrote this blog post one year ago for another publication, which subsequently folded and did not publish this piece.

Tomorrow, Saturday, August 28, the International Market Day Committee and the Faribault Diversity Coalition are sponsoring a fifth annual International Market Day. The event runs from 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. in Faribault’s Central Park, at Fifth Street and Second Avenue Northwest. Aztec dances, music and games; international food and market vendors; community resource information; and farmers’ market vendors will be part of the cultural celebration.

Please attend International Market Day and celebrate the diversity of life in Minnesota.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

“Dust Bowl” conditions equal an unhappy taxpayer

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:02 AM
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DEAR CITY OF FARIBAULT Street Sweeper:

What are you doing today?

If you’re not busy sweeping dirt off the street and into houses, then I would like you to sweep the dirt out of my house and back onto the street.

You see, yesterday you drove by my home several times, stirring up clouds of dust so choking thick that I expected to see tumbleweeds following in your path.

Typically I would not complain. I’m happy to see dirt removed from the street.

But this time you crept past my house with complete disregard for the dirt carried on the wind directly into my open windows. Even though I raced to slam the windows shut, I was not quick enough. Every surface in my house is covered with a fine layer of grit.

Unkind words surface when I consider all of the cleaning that lies ahead of me.

What were you thinking when you failed to use water while sweeping the street? Is this an attempt to save money, trim the budget, cut costs?

I am no rocket scientist, but it seems to me that the simple act of spraying water onto the road surface would have prevented Dust Bowl-like conditions.

You are fortunate in one regard. I did not have freshly-laundered sheets on the clothesline. Had that been the case, you would find yourself not only sweeping and vacuuming my floors, washing my counters and dusting my furniture, but also doing my laundry.

Signed,

An Unhappy (cough, cough) Taxpayer

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Plaid in Paradise August 13, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:29 AM
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I KNEW HE REALLY didn’t want to attend the show. I’ve been married to my husband long enough (28 years) to gauge his interest.

So when I asked Thursday evening at the supper table whether he wanted to go to Forever Plaid by The Merlin Players at the Paradise Center for the Arts, I didn’t expect (and didn’t get) an “Oh, yeah, I can’t wait to see the play,” jumping-up-and-down reaction. Randy isn’t that sort of emotional guy.

I purposely failed to mention one little fact to him. Forever Plaid is a musical. If I want Randy to attend a musical production with me, I won’t let the “m” word slip from my tongue. That’s almost a guarantee that he’ll balk at attending.

But apparently he’s caught on to my lack of full disclosure. As we settled into our seats, among the few remaining for Thursday evening’s nearly sold-out performance, I turned to him: “Oh, I didn’t tell you this is a musical.”

“I thought so,” he said.

The Paradise Center for the Arts theatre during last summer's production of South Pacific.

For the next 90-plus minutes we listened to Forever Plaid, a quartet of actors/singers, croon and belt out songs from the 1950s and 1960s in a high-energy show. From “Chain Gang” to “Love Is a Many Splendored Thing” to “She Loves You,” these guys could sing and dance and move in nearly perfect unison. What a show. They made me tired simply watching them perform, and sweat.

They also made me smile, non-stop. After awhile I realized that I had been smiling from the moment the quartet, and their back-up band, set foot on the Paradise stage. It’s that kind of musical.

I especially enjoyed their three-plus minute interpretation of The Ed Sullivan Show. The Plaid Boys zipped on and off the stage as jugglers, ventriloquists, a singing nun and more representative of the Sunday night television variety program. Wow, that brought back memories.

Mostly, though, Forever Plaid, the story of a male quartet killed in a tragic accident and come back to life for the performances of their lives, entertained me. And isn’t that what theater is, should be?

I just have one little confession. I dislike plaid—really, really, really dislike plaid.

Plaid, no favorite of mine, and the reason I couldn't print this photo in a larger size, although this plaid is more subdued and OK with me, as far as plaids.

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The Merlin Players will present two more productions of Forever Plaid at 7:30 p.m. on August 13 and 14 at the historic Paradise Center for the Arts at 321 Central Avenue in historic downtown Faribault.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Soleful art in Paradise August 10, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:24 AM
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"1,001 Uses for Duct Tape" by Harry Skalski

THEY ARE NOT EXACTLY ruby slippers. They are, in fact, quite the opposite of the sparkly, magical heels worn by Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz.

Yet, angled on a pedestal under the strategically-placed lights of the art gallery, these one-of-a-kind silver flip flops shine with individual style, for they are made of shiny duct tape-wrapped board.

Welcome to “Shoe Stories,” the latest art exhibit at the Paradise Center for the Arts in historic downtown Faribault. Here nearly 40 pieces of juried art, like “1,001 Uses for Duct Tape” by Harry Skalski of Northfield, fill the gallery. Artists were invited to submit a shoe-themed piece that fit inside a shoebox.

"Shoe Stories" opened Friday at the Paradise Center for the Arts in Faribault.

The result is a show as magical and alluring as the Emerald City. As I circle the gallery, weaving in and out of displays, I feel as if I am on the yellow brick road, encountering not flying monkeys, but pieces of soleful art that engage and invite me to pause and ponder.

Visitors peruse "Shoe Stories" on the exhibit's opening night.

"Step on a line," a batik with stitching by Faribault artist Tami Oachs, received first place as judged by Minnesota State University-Mankato Professor Emeritus James Tanner.

"This is My Box," an oil on canvas by Cindy L. Brant of Faribault.

Internationally-renowned Faribault woodcarver Marv Kaisersatt's wood caricature, "If the Shoe Fits."

Faribault artist Deb Johnson's batik, "Hey, Baby, Let's Go For a Walk."

Truly, every artist has communicated some message, some idea, on the subject of shoes. Many have shared stories in addition to art.

Krista Kielmeyer Swanson, for example, presents a nostalgic remembrance of shopping at Burkhartzmeyer Shoes, a long-time family shoe store several blocks away and a co-sponsor of “Shoe Stories” along with Johnson Advisors. Writes Swanson: “To this day I can remember the feeling I would have when you handed me my shoes, tied with string. I felt so proud walking out of the store carrying my new shoes.”

Burkhartzmeyer Shoes, "A Family Tradition Since 1949," and located at 128 Central Avenue in Faribault. Purchased shoes are still boxed and tied with string in this old-fashioned traditional shoe store.

As I read the stories, peruse the art, I begin noticing the shoes of other art gallery visitors—strappy leather sandals, shiny Mary Janes, sturdy two-toned practical ties, clogs…

"The Sole of Art," my blog art version of "Shoe Stories," inspired while photographing exhibit visitors' shoes.

And then I look down at my feet and my silver flip flops which, except for the field of flowers growing under my soles, resemble “1,001 Uses for Duct Tape.”

My silver flip flops, purchased at a major retailer.

“SHOE STORIES,” the idea of Faribault artist and PCA Gallery Committee member Arlene Rolf, is showing through September 25 in the Carlander Family Gallery. The art center is open Tuesday through Saturday and is located at 321 Central Avenue in historic downtown Faribault.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Gargoyles perform at The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour August 9, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:18 AM
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THE CHURCH DOOR bangs, the weight of the solid wood slamming against the frame as if decisively shutting out the hot, humid air that oppresses on this sultry Sunday afternoon in August in Minnesota.

We entered The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour through this heavy side door, which you need to push rather than pull, we learned after waiting outside, thinking we were locked out of the church.

Inside the sanctuary, I seek respite from the suffocating 90-plus degree heat. I settle onto a purple cushion which softens the hardness of wood against flesh in a pew that forces me to sit ramrod straight.

My husband and I, expecting a packed house, have arrived early for a performance by The Chicago Gargoyle Brass at The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault. This massive structure with its looming tower was constructed from 1862 – 1869 as the first Cathedral of the American Church.

The Chicago Gargoyle Brass presented a Sunday afternoon concert at The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault.

The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour sits along Second Avenue across from Faribault's Central Park.

Inside, I welcome the coolness, visually defined by stone and by the dark wood that shapes the arches of the ceiling.

In the chancel area, which stretches an interminable distance from the pews and which is bigger than some country churches I’ve seen, Gargoyle Brass members have positioned their gleaming instruments and music stands at the forefront. Six stained glass windows embrace this “stage” with the glorious 1871 pipe organ (with more old pipes than any other in Minnesota), to the right.

Concert attendees filter into this historic cathedral made of dark wood and stone.

Truly, I am in awe of this cathedral. “This place smells old,” I whisper to Randy as I run my hand along the back of a pew. “Are these the original pews?” They are, I learn upon reading a brochure I’ve picked up. A Civil War veteran cut and planed the wood from northern Minnesota white pine.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off the brass eagle that serves as a lectern given in honor of Bishop Henry Whipple’s wife, Cornelia, who died in July 1890. Bishop Whipple settled in Faribault, oversaw construction of the cathedral and Episcopalian schools and was known for his efforts in helping and befriending Native Americans.

While I wait for the concert to begin, I contemplate the beauty and history of this place and the effort it must have taken to build this stone cathedral.

Soon the concert, part of The Vintage Band Festival hosted in nearby Northfield, begins and we are swept away by the sounds of trumpets, horn, trombone, tuba and timpani (kettledrums) melded with the organ.

The Chicago Gargoyle Brass performs at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour.

I am surprised mostly that the organ does not overpower this cathedral. Often, the music sounds more sedated and muffled than majestic, as I had expected. That has nothing to do with the quality of the organists—for they are superb—but more, I think, to do with the organ placement.

At one point during the concert, a key spring on the organ breaks and a second organist must hold up the key during a performance. “Does someone have some bubblegum?” one of the musicians asks the audience. I’m not sure whether he’s serious or joking, but the concert continues without the gum.

Admittedly, I am no music expert. I can’t read notes. I barely know one instrument from another. So my enjoyment of music is purely, solely authentic, grassroots basic. When my head bobs spontaneously, when I feel the music reverberating, tingling my feet, when I feel an emotional connection, then I know I am hearing good music.

Sunday afternoon I heard good, even great, music from The Chicago Gargoyle Brass, which began in 1992 as a University of Chicago based group. The name was derived from the university’s architecture.

“I love this church,” horn player Arisia Gilmore tells us before performing “Twas a Dark and Stormy Night” with Michael Surratt at the organ. “It’s fitting for the atmosphere we’re trying to portray here.”

As I listen to the music build, like a storm, Randy leans toward me. “Does this remind you of two weeks ago?” he speaks softly into my ear. I nod. He is, like me, recalling the night of July 23 when we were caught in our car on a rural southwestern Minnesota road in the middle of a raging thunderstorm that packed 70 mph winds.

That’s the purpose of music, I think—to stir passions, emotions and, yes, even memories of dark and stormy nights when gargoyles lurk.

A looming tower marks the cathedral located along Second Avenue across from Faribault's Central Park.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

“It could be cancer, but you’re too healthy” August 7, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:49 AM
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Layton Fossum, cancer survivor, poses with a luminary bag given in his honor at the Straight River Stroll in Faribault Friday night.

MEET LAYTON FOSSUM. Two years ago the Northfield man suffered from a raspy throat, a hearing loss and then a twitch in his face.

Must be a virus, the doctors initially told him. But the then 45-year-old persisted and eventually was diagnosed with a very rare form of cancer with a name he struggles to pronounce. So he simply says “head and neck cancer.”

After a 10 ½-hour surgery that was supposed to take three, he emerged with 40 fewer lymph nodes, but thankful to be alive. Next he would explore his post-operative treatment options, traveling to Houston, Seattle, Illinois and California before finally settling on radiation at Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Zion, Illinois.

Through-out his journey, this Malt-O-Meal employee who missed six months of work due to his cancer and is happier than ever now to go to work, has remained positive. Even today he can joke about his experience. “I told my wife I’m worth more. I have gold in me,” Layton tells me Friday night at the Rice County Fairgrounds in Faribault during the American Cancer Society Straight River Stroll.

Thousands gathered Friday evening at the Straight River Stroll at the Rice County Fairgrounds to raise funds for cancer research to remember, celebrate and pray for those touched by cancer.

Layton points to his right eye and the lump of gold in his eyelid. Because he no longer has facial nerves on the right side, he needs the weight to help close the lid, which will shut only when he closes the opposite lid.

Then Layton shows me his ear, which, too, was reshaped during reconstructive surgery to tighten his drooping face.

Layton has no hearing in his right ear, which was reshaped during reconstructive facial surgery.

Yet, despite all he has undergone, despite the changes in his appearance, Layton remains upbeat and eager to tell his story. He was invited back to Zion and spoke for 1 ½ hours to a roomful of suit-and-ties, he says.

Before his diagnosis two years ago, Layton was the picture of health, the last one you would expect to get cancer, a friend says.

He heard the same from doctors: “It could be cancer, but you’re too healthy.”

Still, he did have cancer. And Friday evening Layton was among those celebrating their cancer-free lives at the Straight River Stroll, a Relay for Life event to fund cancer research. As I walked beside him, switching from his right to left side so he could hear me, I marveled at this man who stopped often, bent low to read the names written on white paper bags in memory of, praying for and rejoicing with those who, like him, endured cancer.

Some lost the battle. Some won. Some are still fighting.

This team of kids set out luminaries by the wagonful.

Among the personalized bags, I discovered this especially touching one drawn by a child in celebration of a father's survival.

Words of encouragement for Mike Schulz.

A luminary honors Sandy Doehling, who died of breast cancer.

Kids and teens, even adults, lined up to have their hair spray painted at a booth to raise funds for cancer research.

A volunteer ratted and sprayed a girl's hair, all to raise monies for cancer research at the Straight River Stroll.

Kids could climb inside this race car, with a hood especially designed to recognize those who have endured cancer. The hood is placed on the car, which races at Elko Speedway, only for special occasions like the Stroll.

Faribault resident Jerry Kes led the Stroll as an honored cancer survivor.

As dusk settled, volunteers began lighting the luminaries which stretched and wound around the fairgrounds.

(This post is written in memory of my dad, who died of esophageal cancer in 2003; my nephew, Justin, who died of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma in 2001; and my mom, who is a breast cancer survivor.)

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

People-watching at a Minnesota State Band concert July 31, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 12:19 PM
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WHENEVER I ATTEND A CONCERT, I tend to people-watch as much as I musician-listen.

Take Thursday evening when my husband and I arrived more than a half hour late for an outdoor performance by the Minnesota State Band in Faribault’s Central Park. I immediately noticed our friend Howard dozing in a lawn chair next to a tree next to the drinking fountain.

Randy and I exchanged smirks as we walked by and later, when Howard opened his eyes, my husband greeted him with a cheery “Good morning!” Our friend, who also happens to be a distant relative, claims he wasn’t sleeping, just resting his eyes. Uh huh.

Then I observed the guy lounging sideways on the grass, belly hanging out of his red t-shirt. Yeah, well, that was more like a quick glance, turn-away-the-head type of look.

I wondered about the woman wearing pants topped by a long sleeve shirt topped by a short sleeve shirt. Wasn’t she hot in pants and double layers on this warm, breezeless summer night?

But mostly, I like to watch the kids because they are, for lack of a better word, cute. They dance. They frolic. They sway, uninhibited, to the music. While I didn’t see any dancing kids at this concert, I have in the past. Just watching them makes me smile, makes me happy.

At this concert, I had to settle for observing a fair-haired toddler who, hands clenched by older siblings (or maybe cousins or neighbors) walked back and forth along the sidewalk, occasionally straying to the grass. He was just too cute.

Lest you think I ignored the music, you would be wrong. Randy and I listened to exactly four songs performed by the Minnesota State Band (remember, we arrived late), which I had to research afterward because I’d never heard of the group. They are, according to the band Web site, the official band of the state of Minnesota. In existence since 1898, this non-profit is comprised of volunteers and is the only remaining state band in the United States.

I’m no music person, meaning if a band misses notes or isn’t quite in sync, I typically won’t notice. Howard told us later that the band’s lack of joint practice, as noted by the director, showed a few times. The musicians fooled me because I thought the songs sounded just fine.

We listened to a march, then the melancholy Irish melody, “Danny Boy,” then another song I don’t recall and, finally, a familiar, inspiring patriotic march that I only could place as a John Philip Sousa piece.

“What’s that song? I know that song,” I whispered to Randy as my flip-flopped foot flip-flopped back and forth to the tempo of the music.

“They play it on the Fourth of July,” he answered. “Ask Howard, he’ll know.”

And, indeed, our friend knew that the Minnesota State Band, on this perfect summer evening in the heart of a mid-sized Minnesota community, had performed “Stars and Stripes Forever” before an appreciative and alert (well, mostly alert) crowd.

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THE MINNESOTA STATE BAND returns to the Faribault area on Sunday, August 8, when they will present two concerts at the Vintage Band Music Festival in neighboring Northfield.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A WW II flag of honor reminds me of freedom’s price on Independence Day July 4, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:38 PM
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Four flags, including an American flag that flew in Iraq, stand in the narthex of Trinity Lutheran Church, Faribault, Minnesota.

FOUR FLAGS STAND in a circle in the Trinity Lutheran Church narthex—two American flags, the other two unrecognizable to me.

So I inquire on this Sunday morning, this Fourth of July, this day we celebrate our nation’s birthday, this day of independence.

The one flag, with the big blue star in the center and the smaller white stars along the sides belongs to Kathy, who manages the church office. She knows nothing about its background, only that she purchased and proudly flies this red-white-and-blue at her home along with an American flag.

But the other flag, oh, the large star-studded flag, draws the attention of many. “What is this flag?” we ask each other as we unfold the fabric to reveal a sea of stars on white fabric bordered by red.

The women of Trinity Lutheran Church stitched this WW II honor flag.

And no one knows, until Dave arrives and uncovers the mystery. It is, he says, a flag recognizing those congregational men and women who served our country during WW II. The blue stars denote all who served. The six gold stars hand-stitched atop six blue stars honor those who never came home.

Six gold stars represent the six Trinity members who gave the ultimate sacrifice, their lives, during WW II.

I stand there awed, really, that so many individuals from this German Lutheran church in a mid-sized Minnesota community answered the call to duty during a single war. My friend Lee and I count: 162 blue stars and six double stars of gold upon blue.

The blue stars number 162, one for every Trinity member serving in WW II.

Six young men gave their lives for their country. The thought of such grief within a single congregational family overwhelms me.

I feel now as if I am viewing a sacred cloth. I wonder how many tears fell upon this flag as the ladies of the congregation stitched these stars.

I lift the flag, gently flip the fabric to the back side and examine the even machine-stitching on the blue stars. And then I examine the long, uneven stitches on the gold stars, sewn in place by hand.

Hand-stitching on the backs of two gold stars honoring those who died. The outer row is machine-stitching, holding the blue stars in place.

Dave tells us the flag stood at the front of the church, as did similar flags at churches through-out our community of Faribault. Roger steps up, says he remembers a smaller flag in the church he attended during WW II.

And if Dave’s memory serves him right, this flag remained on display until the end of the war.

Today I am glad, even though also saddened, that this flag of honor has been taken out of storage and put on display. For this one morning, on this Independence Day, those of us gathered here freely to worship have been reminded again that freedom does not come without a price.

A view of three of the flags, looking into the sanctuary, centered by a cross.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling