
FIVE HOURS AFTER we finished staining the fence enclosing our backyard, an out-of-control vehicle slammed into it, missing our house by about 15 feet.

We were just wrapping up bible study at a friend’s house across town when my neighbor, Ken, called around 8:45 p.m. Tuesday. It is the first time Ken has ever called me, so I figured something must be up. It was. Or, rather, down. There was, he said, a vehicle crashed in our yard with fence panels down and the cops on site. You might want to come home, he suggested.
Randy and I arrived home to a street flooded with emergency vehicles and personnel and neighbors outdoors watching everything unfold. By then, Willow Street, an arterial roadway through Faribault, had been blocked. Likewise, Tower Place, the side street along our corner property was closed to traffic.

As Randy pulled the van into the driveway, I saw the power pole on the corner was askew, broken. We, and others in the neighborhood, were without power. A power line stretched low across Willow, high enough for most vehicles, but not semis.

Then we walked around our garage to see a black Suburban partially sticking into our yard, one fence panel angled, another demolished, a third scratched. I’ll admit, I was furious. So angry I didn’t even ask about the condition of the driver initially. All I could think of was the fence, the one we’d just finished staining hours earlier in the heat of an unusually hot and humid September day. The 10-panel lattice-topped fence that has stood for some 25 years unscathed.

I asked what happened. Good question, the officer replied. By then I realized a second vehicle, a pick-up truck, was also involved. That sat turned across Willow Street near its intersection with Tower. Finally, I inquired about the drivers. They fled the scene, the policeman said. I asked the officer to check our garage to assure no one was hiding inside. It was empty.
It was a long night. Of talking to police. Of calling our eldest daughter, who lives in Minnesota. Of texting our insurance agent. Of texting our bible study friends. Of talking to the tow truck driver. Of talking to the Xcel Energy crew dispatched to install a new power pole. They labored until 4 a.m. to place the new pole and wires and restore power.
We slept only a few hours given adrenalin and then the noise of the Xcel trucks.

I’m still mad about all of this. I want to know what happened. What occurred between the two vehicles to cause the Suburban to take out a power pole, nearly hitting our bedroom and wiping out part of our fence. A high rate of speed was apparently involved given skid marks and damage to vehicles. Why did the drivers flee the scene?

And who’s going to pay for new fence panels? Install them? And stain them?
In the light of Wednesday morning, my anger has lessened some as I reflect on a “this could have been worse scenario.” The drivers could have been killed. The Suburban could have hit our house, specifically our bedroom, when we were sleeping. Had this happened during the day, when we were staining the fence, well, I don’t really want to think about that.
One witness has the answers. He sat calmly in the front passenger seat of the Suburban. So quiet I didn’t even realize he was there until an officer alerted me. The witness, a Saint Bernard, was coaxed out of the Suburban and loaded into the back of a squad car. If only dogs could speak.
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NOTE: Nighttime images were taken with cellphones, thus the low quality.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling











































































Clearly I needed to write about homelessness & housing insecurity in Faribault…read on August 6, 2025
Tags: church, commentary, Community Action Center, donations, emergency housing, faith, Faribault, homelessness, housing insecurity, Minnesota, mission, Ridgeview Heights, Trinity Lutheran Church, Vacation Bible School, workforce housing, writing
ON MY WAY TO SUNDAY MORNING church services, I missed an opportunity to live my faith. Reflecting on that moment, I’m still uncertain what I could have done. But the guilt I feel about doing nothing at the time remains.
Let me set the scene. While driving to church, Randy and I dropped off some mail downtown. Up the hill from the post office, I noticed a parked car crammed with stuff. Someone clearly lived out of the vehicle, one I’ve previously seen. Then my eyes shifted to the adjacent street corner and an individual, cocooned in a bright gold blanket, sleeping atop a bench. And then we turned the corner.
“I should take a picture,” I told Randy, my mind already creating a story that would enlighten others about homelessness in Faribault. But then I quickly realized that taking a photo wouldn’t be particularly kind. And so we continued on to church.
Still, I couldn’t shake the image of that person stretched atop a bench along Central Avenue. I wondered about his story, why and how he found himself without a home. And I considered how vulnerable and exposed I would feel sleeping like that in a public place. Those thoughts followed me into church.
“HOUSING FOR THE HOMELESS”
When I stepped inside the sanctuary, I immediately noticed a “Housing for the Homeless” poster near the organ. There are coincidences and then there are what I term “God moments.” And this, in my mind, was clearly divine. I’ve seen enough of these occurrences in my life to distinguish the two. God was assuredly nudging me to write on the topic of homelessness and housing insecurity in my community.
That sign in church was a promotional for the chosen mission of this year’s Vacation Bible School, which started that very evening at Trinity. Participants are donating their monetary gifts to Ridgeview Heights, an accessible, sustainable housing community to be built in downtown Faribault just blocks from the slumbering man on the bench. The VBS fundraising goal is $500.
That $500 may seem inconsequential considering the $2.5 million project cost. But every dollar helps in constructing the two buildings aimed at housing families with children, including those experiencing homelessness. Two of the eight units will serve as free emergency shelters and the other six will be market rate workforce units.
A COMMUNITY ACTS
The Community Action Center, which works collaboratively to alleviate hunger, homelessness and poverty among individuals and families in the community, is the lead on Ridgeview Heights. With an in-kind land donation from the city of Faribault, two grants, gifts, community donations and financing, the CAC is able to break ground at 4 p.m. today, August 6, for the much-needed two and three-bedroom units.
So first I saw the sleeping man, then the poster. And then came the sermon…with a directive that congregations ought to think, plan and act in ways that bless people. The guest pastor encouraged us not to think less of ourselves, but to think of ourselves less (a loose quote from C.S. Lewis). In other words, turn the focus outward on the community rather than inward to the church’s needs. The VBS kids will be doing exactly that this week with their “Housing for the Homeless” mission focus.
A FAMILY THAT CARES
Now you may think my story ends here. But it doesn’t. On July 28, I received a mass email about an upcoming Helbling family reunion. Organizers are changing things up this year by raffling items made by family members. One of several ways to qualify for a raffle entry is via a $5 charitable donation. All donations will go to the Community Action Center in Faribault with a dollar-for-dollar match from my eldest niece’s employer.
Truly, I was meant to write this story. I may have bypassed the man sleeping on the bench. But I got the message, loud and clear, that I needed to write about homelessness and housing insecurity in Faribault. I’ve seen the tents pitched along the river, beside train tracks, behind evergreen trees, next to a park. I’ve seen the homeless in the library, sleeping in the Central Park bandshell, biking and walking about town, including past my house. I am aware of the long waiting list for emergency shelter. Even if I failed to “do” something, I can raise awareness through my writing. And by doing that, perhaps I am helping in some small way to bless my community, including the man sleeping on a bench in the heart of downtown Faribault on a Sunday morning.
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling