IF I WANT TO VIEW fall colors, I needn’t go far. I can step into my backyard to see glorious golden maples. Up the street from my Willow Street home, more trees blaze. If I follow Second Avenue to its intersection with Seventh Street, I’ll find especially vibrant trees on a corner property owned by friends Mark and Laurie. There are more splashy hues along Seventh Street and all about town. Tree-lined bluffs rising above the Straight River burst with color. Faribault is a beautiful, historic riverside city anytime, but especially in autumn.
Yet, even with all the colorful trees in town, I like to go into the countryside to see the colors, too. And it’s not just about the orange, red and yellow leaves. It’s also about sky and water, fields and farms, the “all” which comprises and defines rural Minnesota in September and October.
It’s also about following back gravel roads, the vehicle kicking up dust. It’s about meeting massive farm equipment on roadways. It’s about stopping to look at a weathered barn. It’s about traveling at a slower pace.
And it’s about stopping, exiting the van to walk into the woods or stand along the shoreline of an area lake to admire a colorful tree line.
As a native of the mostly treeless southwestern Minnesota prairie, it was not until I moved to Rice County in 1982 that I fully realized just how overwhelmingly stunning this season is in our state. I didn’t grow up going on vacations with the exception of two—one at age four to Duluth and the second to the Black Hills of South Dakota during my elementary school years. But each autumn, my siblings and I piled into the Chevy with our parents for a Sunday afternoon fall color drive along the Minnesota River Valley from north of Echo to Morton.
And so my love of Sunday drives (which were frequent during my youth because Dad wanted to look at the crops) evolved. As did my understanding that all we needed to do was travel a short distance to see a different landscape. One with woods, colorful woods, in autumn.
The topography of Rice County is incredibly diverse. From the familiar flat prairie to rolling hills and valleys to lakes and rivers and streams, it’s all right here. Lovely.
I encourage Sunday afternoon drives, or whatever day works for you. Forget about schedules and the work at home. Get in the vehicle and go. Go local. Appreciate what’s right in your backyard.
Pull over along a gravel road, if it’s safe to do so, and take in the countryside. Stand along the shore of a lake. Walk into the woods. Hear the crunch of dried leaves beneath your soles. Look up at the colorful leaves. And see, really see, the autumn beauty that surrounds you…before winter strips the land, leaving it naked and exposed.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
The stories of two Marthas September 19, 2025
Tags: Ariel Lawhon, books, Buckham Memorial Library, Cambodia, Camodian Genocide, commentary, Faribault, healing, historical fiction, history, Martha Ballard, Martha Brown, Minnesota, The Frozen River
HISTORY CONNECTS THE STORIES of the two Marthas. One, Martha Ballard, a midwife and the main character in a book of historical fiction, The Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon. The second Martha is Martha Brown, local author, educator, speaker, musician and political candidate for state representative in my district. She shared her personal reflections about a trip to Cambodia on Thursday evening at the Faribault library in a presentation titled “Cambodia—Healing a Broken County.”
I’d just finished reading Lawhon’s book earlier Thursday so the commonalities between a story set in the late 1700s in postrevolutionary America and Brown’s recent trip to Cambodia connected in my mind. In both stories exist violence, trauma, strength, power and resilience within an historical context.
THE CAMBODIAN GENOCIDE
I’ll start with Brown. She focused on the time before and after the 1975-1979 Cambodian Genocide in which some 2 million Cambodians were murdered under the rule of Khmer Rouge, the Communist political party then in power. She also touched on the illegal and secret bombings of Cambodia by the U.S. in 1969 against North Vietnamese forces in Cambodia. That, too, claimed untold civilian lives.
I don’t want to get into historical details here or a political discussion about the Vietnam War. Rather, I intend the focus to be on those who suffered in Cambodia and those who survived. Just as Brown focused her hour-long talk. She arrived in Cambodia expecting to see trauma from the genocide. But instead, she said, she found recovery, healing and joy. She saw survivors of the genocide as part of the healing.
A HORRIFIC HISTORY NOT HIDDEN
The history of the genocide has not been hidden nor erased in Cambodia. “They don’t bury their history,” Brown said. I jotted that quote in my notebook, mentally connecting that to current day America and ongoing efforts by the current administration to erase/hide/rewrite history. We all know the quote—”Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”—by Spanish Philosopher George Santayana. We would do well to contemplate and hold those words close.
In her presentation, Brown did not avoid the hard topics of children recruited and indoctrinated to participate in the Cambodian Genocide killings of educators, doctors, ordinary people, even those who wore eyeglasses. Perpetrators were never punished, went back to their lives, now live among the population. This was hard stuff to hear, especially about the brainwashing of children to kill. “We need to teach our children well,” said Brown, ever the educator who cares deeply about children.
LESSONS LEARNED IN CAMBODIA
Her passion was evident as she spoke of hugging survivors, of apologizing for the U.S. bombings of Cambodia, of crying while in the southeast Asian country. She learned that how you live and treat people is more important than wealth. She learned that people can be poor and still be happy. She learned about the differences in a society that focuses on community rather than self.
When Brown’s talk ended, others shared and a few of us asked questions, including me. Mine was too political to answer in a non-political presentation. But I asked anyway about the internal and external factors contributing to the rise and fall of empires. Brown hesitated, saying only that we could draw our own conclusions from her talk.
A MUST-READ BOOK
Then I wrote “The Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon” on a slip of paper. Not to give to Brown, but rather to the local director of Hope Center serving survivors and victims of sexual assault and domestic violence and their families. I handed the paper to Erica Staab-Absher after hugging her. “You need to read this book,” I said.
In this book of historical fiction, the author bases her writing on real-life midwife Martha Ballard, who documented her life in a journal. Ballard was witness to violence, sexual assault, injustices, secrets, manipulation, power, trauma and much more. This book will resonate with anyone who has survived a sexual assault or cared about someone who has been so viciously attacked. I cannot say enough about the value of reading this book and how empowering it was to me as a woman. It is a love story, mystery and a documentation of strength and resilience.
Resilience. Strength. Healing. Those three words come to mind as I connect the work of a New York Times bestselling author and a talk about the Cambodian Genocide at my southern Minnesota library. By reading and listening, I learned. To read a book pulled from the shelves at my public library and then to listen to personal reflections about a trip to Cambodia on the second floor of that same library are freedoms I no longer take for granted. Not today. I choose to remember and learn from the past. And hope we do not repeat it.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling