American flags a wavin’, this truck takes the northbound entrance ramp onto Interstate 35 off Minnesota State Highway 60 Friday afternoon in Faribault.
Have a safe and happy Fourth of July, everyone!
© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Ducks, a frog, bunnies and, oh, yes, crows June 16, 2015
IT’S BEEN A BIT of an animal menagerie on my property lately. First, three baby ducks bee-lined across the driveway, around the corner of the garage, up the hill and into the lilies that grow wild at woods’ edge. I have not seen them since their surprise showing on my residential lot blocks from the river.
I was pulling weeds in a flowerbed when I discovered this frog.
The frog stayed put for a long time so I could photograph it.
That leaves me wondering also why a frog would appear, perched on a chunk of limestone rimming a garage side flowerbed. But there this bug-eyed amphibian sat in the sun, unmoving except for the pulse of his heartbeat. Unlike the baby fowl, the frog froze, allowing me to take a multitude of images before he slipped into the flowers.
The bunnies always show up each spring when I plant my flowers.
Petunias are a favorite tried and true annual.
No rabbit photos, just more flowers.
And then the rabbits, oh, the rabbits, they have arrived in force since I potted and planted flowers like kale, petunias and impatiens. I’ve noticed a nibble here, a nibble there, but not complete consumption of what, to a rabbit, must seem a salad smorgasbord.
It is the crows, though, which I find bothersome. Ducks are cute. So is a frog in the odd sort of way such a creature can be cute. And bunnies, even if they prefer my flowers to grass, are, undeniably cute.
But crows? There is nothing cute about their annoying and raucous caws that grate at the nerves, that threaten in an unsettling Alfred Hitchock sort of way.
I won’t give crows the satisfaction of photographing them. But I did photograph this bird on a tabletop fountain.
And, no, I have never rushed to grab my camera and photograph a crow.
© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Faces: A Dairy Princess June 12, 2015
Portrait #27: Kaylee Wegner
That young people are still interested in agriculture pleases me, for I grew up on a southwestern Minnesota dairy and crop farm.
While I left the farm for an education and career in journalism, youth like Kaylee Wegner have remained true to their rural roots. I’ve known Kaylee, a classmate of my son, for a long time. She’s smart, poised, confident, driven and passionate about agriculture. This fall she begins her senior year at South Dakota State University, pursuing a bachelor of science degree in dairy production.
I last spoke with Kaylee in June of 2013 when her parents, Ron and Diane (about as salt-of-the-earth wonderful people as you’ll ever meet), hosted “A Day on the Farm” at their rural Faribault acreage. Kaylee and her older sister, Brianna, were there, too, actively involved in the event that drew some 600 visitors. Kaylee, then a Rice County Dairy Princess, posed for photos with a calf and kids. I could see how much she loved promoting the dairy industry.
Since 1937, June Dairy Month has been an annual tradition celebrating all things dairy. When you pour yourself a glass of milk, order a cheeseburger or enjoy an ice cream cone, think of Kaylee and all the other young people who still care about, and are the future of, agriculture.
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This is part of a series, Minnesota Faces, featured every Friday on Minnesota Prairie Roots.
© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Oh, flowers, the reasons I love thee June 6, 2015
DO YOU HOLD A CERTAIN FLOWER in reverent respect?
Perhaps you appreciate the first daffodils of spring erupting in bursts of yellow through a too-long colorless winter landscape.
Or you delight in the petals of a red tulip unfolding. I remember how my eldest daughter, as a preschooler, surmised that the tulips were opening their mouths. I’ve never thought of tulips in quite the same way since her astute observation. Now I see blood red lips.
I’ve always loved daisies. Perhaps it is the seventies flower child in me emerging or my focus on simplicity and non-extravagance. When I married 33 years ago, the humble daisy was an integral part of bouquets.
Peonies remind me of yesteryear. These massive bushes weighed with lush blossoms of fragrant pinks are the flowers of our grandmas.
And then there are irises, in full bloom now here in southern Minnesota. They remind me of my sweet mom, who loves irises.
Isn’t it this way with so many things in life? We treasure something because of the memories held therein.
IN FARIBAULT, RIGHT NOW, hundreds of irises are blooming along a corner lot at Minnesota Highway 60 and Shumway Avenue. What a wonderful gift to my community from this east-side resident:
Irises stretch the length of the property along a section of Minnesota Highway 60.
The irises are in assorted colors and styles.
On the Shumway Avenue side, more irises.
Lots of irises like this mix with other purple flowers.
Beautiful masses of irises.
© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
A photo essay: Celebrating Memorial Day in Faribault May 25, 2015
The parade begins with the Rice County Central Veterans Association Honor Guard/Color Guard leading the way.
FOR THE THIRTY-THREE YEARS I’ve lived in Faribault, I’ve rarely missed a Memorial Day parade and the program that follows in Central Park.
Little Ivan arrives for the parade in a car pushed by his dad, Jake.
It’s a time-honored tradition of music and marches, salutes and speeches, flags and families.
Saluting the flag at the ceremony in Central Park.
I’m proud to live in a community where patriotism and service to country and respect for the American flag and all it means runs strong from generation to generation.
From kids to adults, many are dressed in a patriotic red, white and blue.
Grand Marshal, Adrian Gillen, rides in the parade alongside his wife, Jean. The couple both served their country and were duo grand marshals.
David Kirkpatrick, who is my eldest daughter’s classmate, was the honorary grand marshal.
The Shattuck-St. Mary’s Crack Squad always marches in the parade and always fires their guns.
The Scouts always hand out American flags during the parade.
The parade includes vintage vehicles.
You know the parade is ending when horses and riders arrive.
At Central Park, the Bethlehem Academy Band awaits their turn to play the National Anthem.
Some attendees clutch American flags.
Honored veterans Adrian Gillen, left, and brothers Matt and David Kirkpatrick.
Veteran Travis Quinlan watches the program at the park with hundreds of others. He was also a classmate of my eldest daughter.
Hundreds gathered in Central Park for the program, presented on the bandshell. The Girl Scouts participated with a presentation on flag folding and more.
Archie Temple walked in the parade and then arrived at the park for the Memorial Day program. He served in the U.S. Navy from 1952-1956, during the time of the Korean War. That’s his original Navy uniform.
Honored combat veteran Matt Kirkpatrick addresses the crowd. Grand marshals Jean and Adrian Gillen are seated next to the podium.
David Kirkpatrick speaks briefly.
As is tradition each year, members of American Legion Auxiliary Unit 43 place wreaths on the memorial cross.
The Honor Guard/Color Guard is an important part of the day’s events.
As they left the park, veterans Travis Quinlan, left, and David and Matt Kirkpatrick posed for one last photo. Travis and David were Faribault High School classmates.
© 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 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
Celebrating the Kentucky Derby, Minnesota style May 2, 2015
The marquee on the Paradise Center for the Arts announces the Kentucky Derby Party.
IT WASN’T CHURCHILL DOWNS. But the Paradise Center for the Arts in historic downtown Faribault drew a fashionable crowd to watch the greatest two minutes in sports Saturday afternoon.
A guest arrives for the Kentucky Derby party in downtown Faribault.
Attendees view the hat-themed exhibit in the gallery.
More great hats.
I was there, sporting a wide-brimmed hat that made me feel like a horse with blinders. I’ve concluded that I’m not comfortable wearing an over-sized hat. But I delighted in viewing all of the stylish Kentucky Derby attire.
A poster in an exterior window promotes the Derby event.
There was even a horseshoe shaped cake.
“Frilly Filly” by Audrey Sand, art in the gallery.
The Big Hats & Big Hearts Auction for the Arts and Derby Party featured fashion, food, a hat-themed gallery exhibit and live and silent auctions.
The auctioneer bought his yellow leisure suit in the early 1970s.
The auctioneer even arrived in a 1970s yellow leisure suit complete with horse print tie.
The Paradise Center for the Arts was decorated with lots of red roses.
Fresh mint leaves for the mint juleps.
Fans watched the race on the big screen in the theatre.
There were red roses and mint juleps and raucous roaring as American Pharaoh edged out Firing Line to win the 141st Kentucky Derby. Carpe Diem, the horse I chose, finished tenth. My husband’s finished second.
The live auction begins.
Me, ready for the Derby party.
Tickets for mint juleps.
Win or lose, it didn’t matter to me. I was there to support the arts, view the fashions and try a mint julep for the first time.
© 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 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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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
Minnesota remembers Abraham Lincoln 150 years after his assassination April 14, 2015
THE PISTOL WEIGHS HEAVY in my hand. Cold metal and wood against warm flesh nestled in my palm. I am surprised, really, by the weight and smallness of this curved 1840 Philadelphia Derringer, which is exactly like the deadly weapon John Wilkes Booth fired at President Abraham Lincoln on April 14, 1865.
My husband holds an 1840 Philadelphia Derringer. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2009.
I wrote that paragraph in 2009 after attending a meeting of the Cannon Valley Civil War Roundtable. There an area collector showcased Lincoln memorabilia. I’ve never forgotten that petite pistol he allowed me to cradle.
Today, especially, I feel the weight of that Derringer. April 14 marks 150 years since Booth shot our 16th President as he watched the play, Our American Cousin, in Ford’s Theatre in our nation’s Capitol.
The assassination of Lincoln—the President who, via the Emancipation Proclamation set slaves free in “rebellious states”—stands as a memorable and pivotal moment in U.S. history.
A Lincoln postcard which a collector brought to a Cannon Valley Civil War Roundtable meeting in 2009.
Today we honor this remarkable leader of humble roots, author of the Gettysburg Address wherein he vowed “that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
An original photo of Abraham Lincoln from a southern Minnesota collector’s collection.
I’m also particularly fond of a lesser-known Lincoln quote: “All that I am, or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.”
Promotional poster for the Lincoln event in Northfield, Minnesota.
Throughout our nation and even here locally in Rice County, folks are publicly remembering Lincoln on the 150th anniversary of his death. At The Grand Event Center, The Northfield Historical Society this evening presents Our American Cousin, A Night That Changed Our Nation, The Assassination of President Abraham Lincoln. Held in an 1899 historic opera house/theatre with balcony booths much like those in Ford’s Theatre, the event includes summary presentations on the assassination and the nation’s reaction; a snippet from Our American Cousin; and a re-enactment of Lincoln’s assassination. Tickets are available in advance and at the door, although there is no guaranteed seating the day of the show.
An ink drawing of Abraham Lincoln by my artist friend, Rhody Yule, now deceased.
At 7 p.m. on Thursday, April 16, the President of the Wood Lake Battlefield Preservation Association will arrive on horseback at the Faribault Senior Center, 19 West Division Street, Faribault. There, at the monthly meeting of the Cannon Valley Civil War Roundtable, Tom Hosier of Rochester, dressed in period costume, will talk about Lincoln’s assassination. The presentation is free and open to the public.
A poster promotes the upcoming Lincoln’s Traveling Troupe performance.
In Mankato, Lincoln’s Traveling Troupe will present the “true and dramatic story of Lincoln’s assassination” and its immediate aftermath in The Heavens Are Hung in Black, a play written by Lincoln historian and re-enactor Bryce O. Stenzel. Show times are 7 p.m. Friday, April 24, and Saturday, April 25, and 2 p.m. Sunday, April 26, at the Bethlehem Lutheran Church Dining Room.
How will you remember Lincoln today or this month?
© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
He is risen April 5, 2015
“I am the resurrection and the life.” A stained glass window in the Trinity Lutheran Church sanctuary, Faribault, Minnesota. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.
You are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here.– Mark 16: 6
Wishing you, my dear readers, a most joyous and blessed Easter!
Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
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