Former Faribault Daily News reporter Pauline Schreiber photographed these Faribault POW camp barracks shortly before they were torn down in 1990. (Photo courtesy of the Rice County Historical Society)
A promo for “Beets.” (Credit: Shattuck-St Mary’s School Facebook page)
Thursday evening, I sat in the sparse audience of the historic Newhall Auditorium on the campus of Shattuck-St. Mary’s School, a private college prep school on Faribault’s east side, watching a story unfold in the theatrical production, “Beets.” An incredibly talented nine-member student cast immersed themselves in the roles of a farm family, German POWs, guards and a family friend to share a bit of history. And much more.
This play about POWs working on the Hunt family’s sugarbeet farm is more than a retelling of history. It is also about relationships, fear, culture and love. It is about the perceived differences that divide us and about the commonalities that unite us.
This is a play for our times. In a nation today divided by politics, by fear, by hatred and animosity, “Beets” is absolutely relatable.
As the storyline evolves, conflicts arise. Farmer Fred Hunt spews his hatred of the Germans. His wife, Isabelle, exudes compassion and love. And their daughter, Anna, settles somewhere in between, leaning initially toward dislike and distrust of the German POWs who have come to work her father’s land. Anna’s thoughts often turn to her brother, Jake, fighting the Germans abroad.
A German meal: sauerbraten and spaetzle on the left, German potato salad, sweet and sour cabbage, dinner roll and sauerkraut and brats. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Slowly, interaction by interaction, things begin to change. The American farm family and the German prisoners realize they share a love of Bach. (Yes, a German composer.) And while the German POWs profess they will never eat corn, because that’s for pigs and cows—although Anna explains the difference between corn for livestock and sweetcorn—they all understand that they need to eat. The scenes in which Anna and Isabelle serve potatoes and cake to the POWs show how food brings people together. Trust grows. When Fred learns details about POW Dieter Meuhler’s family, he begins to understand the personal side of a man he saw only as an enemy. The walls of distrust, disdain and differences start crumbling, albeit slowly.
It is not lost on me that the Shattuck performers are themselves of diverse backgrounds. That only adds to the performance.
There are differences in beets (these are not sugarbeets), just like in people. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
There are lessons to be learned from “Beets,” written by Rick Padden. First, we are all, at our core, just human beings with the same basic needs. Secondly, to overcome differences, we need to connect on a personal level. We need to open our hearts and minds, to embrace cultural and other differences. We need to show compassion and care, as farm wife Isabelle Hunt did on stage. We need to recognize that love is universal, as Anna and Dieter discovered.
“Beets” is one of those plays I wish everyone could see, especially now in these challenging days. I left the theater at Shattuck-St. Mary’s feeling a sense of hope. The fictional characters in “Beets” changed, for the better. They opened their hearts and minds to each other, despite their differences, or perceived differences. Perhaps we can do the same.
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FYI: Two performances of “Beets” remain at Shattuck, one at 7 pm Friday, February 7, and the second at 2 pm Saturday, February 8. It’s a two-hour show (includes a 10-minute intermission) I highly recommend to anyone who enjoys well-done theater, history and a play with strong messages relevant to today.
The historic post office in Northfield, Minnesota, holds an art treasure. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
OF ALL THE TIMES I’ve visited neighboring Northfield through the decades, I’d not once stepped inside the downtown Northfield Post Office. Until last May. I’ve frequented Bridge Square across the street, admiring the public art I often find outdoors in this park along the Cannon River. Yet, I never thought to look for art inside the impressive limestone structure angling around a corner of the town center.
The mural above a row of mailboxes was designed by Margit Carson Johnson. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
But inside the historic 1936 post office, I found a massive piece of public art designed by Northfielder Margit Carson Johnson. The commissioned work defines the essence of Northfield. The city is perhaps most famously known for the townspeople’s defeat of the James-Younger Gang in September 1876 as the outlaws attempted to rob the First National Bank. Johnson’s 1986 mural, though, doesn’t show that. The entire bank robbery history can be learned a few doors down at the former bank site, now the Northfield History Center.
The Dakotah Wahpekute, also known as “Leafshooters,” were the original inhabitants of the land that would become Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Rather, the mural on the east side of the post office lobby visually summarizes Northfield’s early history as home to the Dakota Wahpekute, then settlement as a farming (dairy and crop) and milling (flour and sawmills) community, followed by growth as a center for education (St. Olaf and Carleton Colleges), industry (including Post Consumer Brands cereal, formerly Malt-O-Meal) and tourism.
Farmers plowed the prairie grass to seed wheat. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
For anyone who knows little to nothing about Northfield, the folk art style painting completed by a team of volunteers is a good starting point to learn the basics about this community. It’s a visual Cliff Notes type of guide.
Founders John and Ann North are depicted in the painting of Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
Like many early Minnesota settlements, rivers and railroads determined the location for new towns. Northfield sits along the Cannon River, a source of water power for early milling and a route for trade. Today the river continues to center this community, creating a picturesque and engaging downtown core with businesses along Division Street backing to the river. A River Walk leads locals and visitors riverside to appreciate the natural beauty of water flowing through Northfield.
My favorite part of the mural, probably because I grew up on a dairy farm, shows Holsteins. The buildings are actual buildings in Northfield, including the historic Archer House, destroyed in a fire several years ago. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)
I love Northfield, once promoted with the theme of “Cows, Colleges and Contentment.” It’s still that, although with fewer dairies than once defined the area. Today the local tourism website tags Northfield as “Close to Home/Far From Ordinary.” That fits, too.
A view of the River Walk and the historic Ames Mill (to the right in the distance) from the pedestrian bridge spanning the Cannon River in the heart of downtown Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)
Northfield ranks as a popular tourist destination with its James-Younger connection and its many home-grown shops housed in historic buildings in a downtown that fits the definition of “charming.” The setting is decidedly comfortable and homey and as picturesque as a Norman Rockwell painting. There’s a seasonal popcorn wagon in Bridge Square, anglers fishing along the river, an old-fashioned barbershop with barber pole…
Northfield’s much-beloved seasonal popcorn wagon at Bridge Square. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2024)
There’s a strong sense of community and of community pride in Northfield. Art matters here. From riverside murals to poetry imprinted upon sidewalks to artwork showcased inside the Northfield Arts Guild to theatre, concerts and much more (including at the two colleges) the arts flourish.
Beautiful Bridge Square, Northfield’s town center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2022)
And inside the aged, massive post office, once slated for closing, the folk art mural designed by Margit Carson Johnson stretches above a wall of mailboxes to reveal the core story of Northfield. From the Big Woods to the once glacial meltwater-fed Cannon River, from the Wahpekute to dairy farmers, from tallgrass prairie to the city it is today, Northfield thrives.
The Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa, seats 2,100. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
A TIME EXISTED when ballrooms centered weekend entertainment and socializing across southern Minnesota: The Monterey Ballroom in Owatonna, no longer a dance hall, but an event center. The Kato Ballroom in Mankato, today primarily a place for banquets, wedding receptions and meetings. The Gibbon Ballroom in Gibbon, once the site of Polka Days, now closed. George’s Ballroom in New Ulm, demolished. The Blue Moon Ballroom in Marshall, destroyed in a 1981 fire. Ballrooms, as they once were in their heyday, are mostly non-existent or altered in usage.
Inside the Surf Ballroom, portraits of Ritchie Valens, left to right, Buddy Holly and J.P. Richardson. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
But just across the border along Interstate 35 in northern Iowa, an historic ballroom remains open and going strong. That’s the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, an 84-mile or one hour and 15-minute drive from my community of Faribault. I’ve been there. Not to dance. But to tour the venue that marked the final performance site for Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson on February 2, 1959.
This display inside the Surf references “American Pie.” Displays like this line spaces in the museum part of the Surf. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
The next morning, a chartered plane carrying the trio crashed in a field shortly after take off from the Mason City Municipal Airport, killing the musicians and pilot, Roger Peterson. February 3, 1959, was, according to singer and songwriter Don McClean, “the day the music died.” The tragedy is forever immortalized in McClean’s 1971 “American Pie,” a lengthy song I know well given I was a teen of the 70s.
The ballroom stage, where a crew was setting up for a LeeAnn Womack concert during my visit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
Ten years have passed since I visited the Surf Ballroom. But nearly every January, I mentally revisit that experience of walking onto the wooden floor of the iconic ballroom and immersing myself in yesteryear. It’s not that I’m a big Buddy Holly fan or even into music all that much. But I can appreciate the significance of this place in rock ‘n roll history.
In the back of the ballroom are layers of booths, all original. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
The three musicians, plus Dion and the Belmonts, Frankie Sardo, Waylon Jennings, Tommy Allsup and Carl Bunch, were on a 24-day Winter Dance Party tour through Minnesota, Wisconsin and Iowa when they so tragically died. They had been crisscrossing the Midwest in a tour bus, playing in big cities like Milwaukee, Green Bay, St. Paul and Duluth, but also in smaller towns like Montevideo and Mankato in southern Minnesota. That Mankato performance was January 25 at the Kato Ballroom. Following the February 2 gig in Clear Lake, Holly decided to charter a small plane rather than endure the 364-mile bus ride to Moorhead for the next stop on the tour. That decision proved fatal.
The marquee advertises upcoming events on the day I visited in May 2015. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
The Winter Dance Party continues to this day at the Surf Ballroom as a way to honor the rock ‘n roll legends. This year’s celebration is January 30 – February 1. Closer to home, the Paradise Center for the Arts in Faribault is hosting “Buddy Holly: Oh Boy!” at 7:30 p.m. Friday, January 31. The next day, Saturday, February 1, the show will be at the State Street Theater in New Ulm at 7 p.m. This is a re-staging of Holly’s Winter Dance Party.
This sign inside the front entry summarizes the importance of the Surf. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
Whether you’re a fan of Buddy Holly or not, I think it’s important to recognize the significance he held in American rock ‘n roll culture. Music, in many ways, is like an historical account of life. It carries messages, entertains, connects us to memories and events, and touches us emotionally. And when the music died on February 3, 1959, the nation cried.
This stacked album sculpture in Three Stars Plaza honors Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2015)
A scene from downtown Benson, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2024)
SOME 170 MILES separate my community of Faribault from Benson, a small agricultural community in west central Minnesota near the South Dakota border. At first glance, it seems the two share little in common. But they do, a discovery I made following a brief stop in Benson in late November.
Bishop Henry Whipple, featured in a mural on the bandshell at Faribault’s Central Park, across the street from the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Bishop Henry Whipple, the long ago Episcopal bishop of Minnesota, links Faribault and Benson. Whipple, a missionary based in Faribault, traveled around the Minnesota frontier in the early years of statehood in an effort to spread the Christian faith. That included visits to Benson where, in 1879, Christ Episcopal Church was built for $1,650 by local carpenters. Whipple visited occasionally to lead services and confirm new members.
That early Gothic Revival style church with gray board and batten siding caught my eye during a brief drive around Benson’s downtown core. More accurately, the seven-story Parkview Manor apartment across the street from the church initially grabbed my attention. The 55-unit high-rise looks very much out of place in this prairie town. It dwarfs residential houses and the historic church. Typically grain elevators and church steeples mark small town skylines, not a towering 1967 apartment complex.
Parkview Manor, where the church was once located. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
Christ Episcopal Church once sat on the apartment land, but was moved across the street after the Housing and Redevelopment Authority bought the property in 1966. At some point the church, founded by English and Yankees (as New Englanders were once termed), closed due to dwindling membership. Today the building serves as the Swift County Drop In Center, “a safe haven for adults to go to experience life free of stigma.” I think Bishop Whipple would have liked that, knowing the former church serves as a gathering place, a safe spot to just be.
The church sits in a residential neighborhood near downtown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
Some day I’d like to tour the aged church, which was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1985. Perhaps I would feel the presence of Benson’s early settlers, hear the words of comfort, peace, hope and unity preached by Bishop Whipple.
While Whipple is primarily viewed as a man who befriended Indigenous Peoples, he was also part of the long ago mindset to assimilate and “civilize” them. That’s a side not often discussed when talking about a man, a missionary who shared his biblical teachings while also compassionately advocating for Native Americans. Whipple is highly-revered in Faribault, where he is buried beneath the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour, an historic cathedral worthy of visiting, too.
The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour, Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2024)
The immense Faribault cathedral differs vastly from the unassuming small church in Benson. Yet, history and a missionary link the two. To uncover that connection simply because I noticed an out-of-place apartment high-rise and then the old steepled church across the street reveals just how small this world really is if only we pause to notice, then uncover the connections.
This limestone sculpture by Thomas Miller depicts a Dakota warrior. It sits across from Reconciliation Park in Mankato at the Blue Earth County Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)
FORGIVE EVERYONE EVERYTHING.
Powerful words on a bench at the Dakota 38 Memorial in Reconciliation Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)
Those uppercase engraved block words, white against red on a stone bench at the Dakota 38 Memorial in the heart of downtown Mankato at Reconciliation Park, hold the strength of a people who really have no reason to forgive. But they choose to do so. And in forgiveness comes healing.
The names of the 38 Dakota men hung in Mankato are listed on the Dakota 38 Memorial. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)
December 26 marks the date in 1862 when 38 Dakota men were hung near this site along the Minnesota River in America’s largest mass execution. Originally, 303 Dakota were sentenced to death following “trials” (the quotes are intentional) after the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862. President Abraham Lincoln reviewed the list of those sentenced to death, approving the hanging of thirty-eight. Thousands gathered to watch the execution on the day after Christmas 162 years ago.
Up close, names of the Dakota who were hung. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)
This history I learned early on, but only from a White perspective and only because of my roots in southwestern Minnesota, at the epicenter of the war. I expect many Americans, including many Minnesotans, to this day know nothing of this conflict that killed hundreds of Whites and Dakota. Internment and exile of the Dakota followed. Native Peoples suffered because of the atrocities before and after the war.
A massive limestone sculpture of a white buffalo in Reconciliation Park represents the spiritual survival of the Dakota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)
This is history I’d encourage everyone to study. And not just from a one-sided perspective. I won’t pretend that I am fully-informed. I’m not. I do, though, have a much better understanding than I did growing up. I’ve read, listened, learned. I know of stolen land, broken treaties and promises. Starvation. Injustices. Demeaning words like those attributed to a trader who told starving Dakota to “eat grass.” Andrew Myrick was later reportedly found dead, his mouth stuffed with grass.
A sign in Reconciliation Park directs visitors to the many sites around Mankato focused on reconciliation and remembrance. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)
But back to those three words on that stone bench in Mankato: FORGIVE EVERYONE EVERYTHING. The Dakota truly have no reason to forgive. But they choose to do so. I’ve learned that forgiveness is part of Dakota culture and beliefs.
An overview of the location of Reconciliation Park along Riverfront Drive in Mankato, along the Minnesota River and across from the public library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)
In the month of December, the attitude of forgiveness extends beyond words in stone to an annual horseback ride honoring the 38+2 (two more Dakota were sentenced to death two years later). This year, two rides—The Makatoh Reconciliation & Healing Horse Ride and The Dakota Exile Ride, the first originating in South Dakota, the other in Nebraska—will end on December 26 with gatherings at Reconciliation Park and the Blue Earth County Library, located across from each other.
Just down the street from Reconciliation Park, murals on the Ardent Mills grain silos celebrate the diversity of Mankato, including that of the Dakota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)
These rides focus on educating, remembering, honoring, healing and forgiving. Five powerful verbs when connected with the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862.
Katherine Hughes’ poem ends with the word “forgiveness.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)
The poem “Reconcile,” written by Katherine Hughes and posted in Reconciliation Park, closes with this powerful verse: Hope for a future/When memories remain/Balanced by forgiveness.
A Dakota prayer in the park ends with the word “reconciliation.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2023)
FORGIVE EVERYONE EVERYTHING.
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FYI: Here’s the schedule for the December 26 events. A community gathering is set for 9 am-10 am at Reconciliation Park and the library. Horseback riders arrive at 10 a.m. A ceremony in the park takes place from 10 am-11:30 am. From 11:30 am-1 pm, a healing circle will happen at the library with discussion surrounding the events of December 26, 1862, covering the past, present and future. A community meal for the horseback riders, who rode hundreds of miles to Mankato, follows.
Blonde brownies baked this morning. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo November 2024)
I HAVE A LOT ON MY MIND, as I expect many of you do. So this morning I baked blonde brownies. Nothing healthy about this sweet treat. Nothing healthy at all. The brownies are loaded with sugar. Two cups of brown sugar, to be exact. But on this day I don’t care.
(Book cover sourced online)
Today I’m continuing to read A Fever in the Heartland by Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter and author Timothy Egan. If ever there was a book that opened my eyes to American history, this is it. I’ve had to read this book in doses given the heaviness of the topic. Every. Single. Person. Should read this book. The content is relatable to today in many aspects. And that, my friends, is beyond frightening.
Lastly, it’s Friday. The sun is shining brightly. Laundry is drying on the line. And I’m waiting for a friend, who just lost his dog, to stop over for a brownie.
Enjoy your weekend, everyone! Take a walk. Meet a friend. Defiantly bake brownies.
A stunning historic building anchors a corner in the heart of downtown St. Peter along Minnesota Avenue. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
A COLLEGE TOWN. A river town. A town once destined to become Minnesota’s state capital, except for a stolen legislative bill and a judge’s ruling. A town where Jesse James and his gang rode through en route to robbing the First National Bank of Northfield. A town two-thirds destroyed by a March 29, 1998, tornado. The town is St. Peter, population around 12,000, nestled in the Minnesota River Valley.
I felt right at home inside this picnic shelter with the grain bin roof. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
An eagle soars high above the Minnesota River at Riverside Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
The Minnesota River shoreline as photographed from Riverside Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Recently I spent a bit of time in St. Peter while on a fall color drive. Randy and I picnicked at Riverside Park—Mill Pond & Campground. I watched volunteers prepare for a haunted hayride along the park’s trails, nearly twisted my ankle in an unfilled hole in the grass, noted how murky the Minnesota River appeared, observed an eagle soaring, and noticed the roof of the small picnic shelter. It looked like the top of an old grain bin, much to my rural roots delight.
I appreciated that books inside the St. Peter Thrift Store were mostly displayed horizontally, making it easier for me to read the titles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Following lunch, we stopped briefly downtown when I spotted a thrift store. I always enjoy poking around second-hand shops. Not that I’m looking for anything in particular. Often I leave empty-handed. But this time I picked up a clutch of greeting cards because I’m one of those people who still sends cards on birthdays and other occasions. Randy found a cassette tape of some radio talk show, nothing that interests me.
Outside the Arts Center of Saint Peter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2024)
Inside the arts center, I viewed this and other collages by Mankato artist Holly Dodge. Her exhibit has closed. The gallery space now features the work of artists participating in the BUY-AND-TAKE INVITATIONAL and also Bianaca Wilson’s “SIEMPRE BUSCANDO.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2024)
We’d parked along busy Minnesota Avenue/US Highway 169 directly in front of the Arts Center of Saint Peter. So, of course, I had to check out the gallery exhibit—collage art by Mankato artist Holly Dodge. The exhibit has since closed. I meandered, photographing some of her pieces. I’m always impressed by the diversity of art, how creative minds work.
Paul Granlund’s sculpture offers a unique perspective through which to view downtown St Peter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Once outside, I aimed my camera lens toward the distinctive bronze sculpture, “Mobius Strip,” crafted by Paul Granlund, a noted Minnesota sculptor, 1952 graduate of Gustavus Adolphus College (across town and up the hill), sculptor-in-residence there from 1971-1996, and much more in an illustrious career. Granlund’s sculpture is an eye-catching identifier of the arts center. Only after I returned home did I learn about the artist and about the many Granlund sculptures gracing the Gustavus campus. A return trip just to see those is now on my must-do list. I also found heron and eagle sculptures tucked into a pocket park in this block of downtown.
The heron sculpture is to the left, the eagle to the right (hidden by the shrub) in this pocket park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
I discovered, too, Poshinate Kiddos, a beautiful baby and kids gift boutique where I looked, but didn’t buy (not this trip). I loved the merchandise and the friendly, helpful shopkeeper.
A row of historic buildings sits along US Highway 169, where a center island divides the roadway in downtown St. Peter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Historic buildings lining Minnesota Avenue drew my interest. About a dozen are on the National Register of Historic Places. Rather than cross the wide, wide street where traffic whizzes by at speeds that make me uncomfortable, I zoomed and photographed. I appreciate historic architecture and when a community cares enough to save it.
One of the Embassy signs… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
And then on the other side of the Embassy, this sign. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Within the single block I walked, I also noticed signage on the Embassy Bar, or Blaschko’s Embassy Bar & Grill, depending on which sign you view. Signs always draws my interest, not only as identifiers but also as works of art.
This and other words tag the windows of the Arts Center of Saint Peter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Retracing my steps from River Rock Coffee & Tea, a busy place at the end of the block, I paused at the arts center again. On the second floor I spotted a singular word—writing—spanning a wide window. Now, when you’re a writer like me, you get excited about a word that celebrates your craft. That left a lasting impression on me as we pulled out of St. Peter intent on seeing what we’d come to see, the colorful trees along Highway 169 heading north toward Le Sueur. But the trees weren’t colorful. Not at all. Could have been the timing or the day, which was extremely windy with hazy skies.
I didn’t go into the River Rock. But I looked through the large windows to see the coffee and tea shop teeming with customers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Although disappointed, I was not disappointed in the river town, the college town, the historical town of St. Peter. I need to return, devote an entire day to exploring a place that once could have been Minnesota’s state capital…if not for the theft of a legislative bill in 1857 by politician Joseph Rolette and the judicial ruling that followed.
Among the many signs that drew my interest in Owatonna was this insurance agency sign. The bold colors and layered signage stood out. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
SIGNS, WHETHER HANDWRITTEN on a piece of paper or professionally made to mark a business, fascinate me. They reveal much about the heartbeat and history of a community.
Love this artsy sign.The curving arrow points me directly to Wagner’s. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
On a recent visit to Owatonna’s downtown, I photographed a collection of signs that caught my eye. I lean toward vintage, or those that appear vintage. I also lean toward unusual names and interesting fonts and art.
This candy shop and eatery has a lengthy history in Owatonna. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Most people likely view a sign only as an identifier or source of information. Clearly not me. I see signage through the lens of a writer and a photographer.
Even if partially missing, I still appreciate the vintage charm of this sign. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
The Kitchen, a downtown Owatonna staple gathering spot. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
A catchy name for a bar. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Every town, not just Owatonna, offers a potluck of signs, a feast for the eyes. All signs bring something to the table. Something that tastes of local flavor. And I’m not just talking food or drink, although certainly you will find plenty of that along North Cedar Avenue and other streets spoking off Owatonna’s main downtown artery.
This shows partial signage for Central Park Coffee and a mini owl mural, among several owls “hidden” in downtown Owatonna. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
It’s that time of year again, time for all things pumpkin as noted on this sandwich board. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
A long-standing pizza place along North Cedar Avenue. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
I’m also talking about the stories behind those signs. The people who own the businesses, run them, welcome customers inside for a cold one, a cup of coffee, a slice of pizza, a new pair of shoes, a pumpkin truffle, even an insurance policy. Signs are more, much more, than simply signs.
A mostly unreadable (at least to me) ghost sign. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
On the side of Owatonna Shoe is this painting of Princess Owatonna, after whom the city is named. A statue of the princess stands in Mineral Springs Park, the spring and princess being part of local lore. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
The long ago Roxy Theater is honored in the Main Street Mural in a downtown pocket park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Signs also hold history. Ghost signs, of which there are several in Owatonna, write of bygone days. Murals paint history, too, of the Roxy Theater and of Princess Owatonna and more.
And then I spotted this vintage gem on a building… (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Wherever you live, whatever community you visit, I encourage you to pause, look and really see the signage. Appreciate the history. Consider the stories. Study the fonts and art. Enjoy the potluck of signs that flavor a place.
I photographed this scene in Pine River, which calls itself Minnesota’s S’more Capital, Doug Ohman said.From what I read online, the Whitefish Chain of Lakes terms itself “The S’more Capital of the World.” Pine River is on the northwest end of the Whitefish Chain. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
I FELT LIKE A BIT OF A SMARTIE, you know, that kid who raises his/her hand to answer the teacher’s questions. But Doug Ohman told me later, when I apologized to him for my overzealous class participation, that he actually appreciates enthusiastic interaction with audience members. And that I was on Monday evening while attending Ohman’s presentation on Minnesota town names at the Owatonna Public Library. I couldn’t help myself. This presenter is incredibly engaging, energetic, interesting and really good at what he does.
One of many Minnesota books by Doug Ohman. (Cover image sourced online)
Ohman is a prolific presenter, Minnesota author and photographer—he’s written 16 photo-rich books—who travels the state giving talks on 36 subjects. Those range from churches to schoolhouses, courthouses to libraries, state parks to cabins, and, oh, so much more. If you want to learn more about Minnesota, especially its small towns and rural areas, and appreciate history, then Ohman is your guy. I’ve seen him present twice previously, both times on churches.
But Monday evening, it was all about “Name That Town.” Ohman began by telling a room packed with people that he would be doing an interactive game show style presentation. Oh, oh, I thought, when he asked for help from an audience member. Eventually Steve volunteered and the game was on.
Sweetcorn for sale at a stand across from St. Michael’s Catholic Church in Buckman, my husband’s hometown. Buckman is southeast of Little Falls in Morrison County. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
It didn’t take long before Ohman put the audience at ease with his humor and questions. A lot of questions. About towns. And that’s where I proved my smarts. Like Ohman, I enjoy visiting small towns, stopping to explore and photograph them. He feels like a kindred spirit in that we are both writers and photographers who value rural Minnesota.
I recently photographed this beautiful old building in downtown Foley, seat of Benton County. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
For 1 ½ hours, Ohman talked about Minnesota towns, going through the alphabet from A-Z, showing selected photos of communities he’s visited. He invited audience members to shout out town names for each letter, often pausing to ask why they named that particular town and occasionally awarding prizes for correctly answered questions.
I found this signage on a building in downtown Kenyon in Goodhue County east of Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2024)
There were familiar town names like Duluth, Hastings, Red Wing and Stillwater. But then Ohman threw out towns like Dorothy (south of Thief River Falls), Johnson (the “most Minnesotan name,” he said, and located near Chokio) and Quamba (between Mora and Hinckley). All three were unfamiliar even to me.
Ohman referenced this multi-cultural mural in Walnut Grove, where Hmong immigrants have settled and embraced the prairie history of author Laura Ingalls Wilder. He also noted that Walnut Grove is the only community where he found a working pay phone. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Only the letter X lacks a Minnesota town name. Two towns share the name Oslo. No surprise given Minnesota’s rich Scandinavian heritage. Oh, and Osakis is the self-proclaimed “Lefse Capital of Minnesota,” Ohman said, recommending Jacobs Lefse.
A statue of Princess Owatonna, daughter of Chief Wabena and whom after the city of Owatonna is named, stands in Mineral Springs Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2020)
Ohman asked how towns are named and got lots of audience response. The Old Country (New Ulm, New Germany, Fulda…), Native American people and language (Owatonna, Wabasha, Sleepy Eye, Wabasso), animals (Badger and Fox), geographic features (Redwood Falls, International Falls, Thief River Falls, Fergus Falls, but not Hanley Falls, which has no falls), famous (Henry Hastings Sibley) and not so famous people…
This sign once marked my hometown and its reason for notoriety. The sign was removed and replaced and I wish it was still there, along Minnesota State Highway 19. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2011)
My hometown is named after the postmaster’s daughter, Vesta. I nearly stumped Ohman when I shouted out “Vesta.” But, with some clues and thought, he remembered its location in Redwood County. He’s been to neighboring Belview, Seaforth, Wabasso. Even several audience members were familiar with southwestern Minnesota towns, something I don’t often encounter in southeastern Minnesota.
I found this small town proud t-shirt at Kelash’s Corner, a vegetable, fruit and merch stand, in Gilman, population around 220. The town is northeast of St. Cloud in Benton County. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Towns survive based on location, Ohman said. That makes sense. Towns once located along railroad tracks, later abandoned, have declined. Towns built on lumbering have dwindled in population. Towns located today in resort areas, close to larger cities or along major roadways (like Owatonna on Interstate 35) are growing, thriving. The smallest of Minnesota’s 905 towns, according to Ohman, is Funkley, population five. That’s northeast of Blackduck which is northeast of Bemidji in Beltrami County. I love how that name, Funkley, rolls off the tongue.
I won this pack of photo cards for correctly answering so many questions throughout Ohman’s presentation. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Plenty of answers rolled off my tongue Monday evening in Owatonna as Ohman asked endless questions during his Minnesota town themed game show. Who knows the county in which Ivanhoe, named after the book by Sir Walter Scott, is located? “Lincoln,” I shouted. I revealed my book smarts a second time by naming the fictional town in Sinclair Lewis’ novel, Main Street. That would be Gopher Prairie, really Lewis’ hometown of Sauk Centre. That earned me a prize—a pack of feline photo cards by Ohman.
This mural in Walnut Grove shows how past and present connect, from early settlers to present day Hmong immigrants who now call this small town home. A niece, who lives with her family in Walnut Grove, recently told me how happy she is that her children are growing up in a diverse community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I could write a whole lot more about all the towns and related information Ohman covered in his talk. But that’s his job, while mine is to highlight a few here. And also to reveal that I did incredibly well on the Ohman game show. I’ll close with one more important revelation. His favorite town name, Ohman shared, is Faith…because it takes a little faith to live (and survive) in Minnesota.
NOT EVERYONE WOULD CELEBRATE a birthday by exploring historic ruins and then capping the day by creating art within an historic context. But then I am not everyone.
This week, on my closing-in-on-seventy birthday, I took a day trip to Wasioja and neighboring Mantorville. Randy and I packed our picnic lunches and then hit the road east in late morning. No need to rush and get going too early at our ages.
After a brief stop at a Kenyon thrift shop, which smelled strongly of natural gas, we made a quick exit. But not before warning the shopkeeper that he needed to check on the odor immediately. And don’t turn on a light switch, although the lights were already on, we advised. (The shop was still standing on our return route home.)
Blueberry pie. not from County Seat Coffee Shop. I didn’t photograph that pie piece. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
GOING BACK IN TIME
I digress. In Wasioja, we discovered aged ruins and historic buildings, many connected to Minnesota’s involvement in the Civil War. I was aware of the Civil War recruiting station, but not some of the other sites. I’ll write more on our visits to Wasioja and Mantorville in future posts.
However, I should note now that Randy and I enjoyed slices of homemade blueberry and strawberry/rhubarb pie at County Seat Coffeehouse in Mantorville. It was, after all, my birthday. No sweet treat awaited me at home.
Back home by late afternoon with me feeling a bit tired after being on my feet all day (remember that broken right toe, which makes walking a tad more challenging), I put my feet up. Randy napped.
A promo for a 2022 talk by Mica Anders at the RCHS. (Promo credit of RCHS)
STEPPING BACK IN TIME WITH MICA ANDERS
And then, less than two hours later, we were off to the Rice County Historical Society for an interactive historical presentation by St. Paul genealogist and artist Mica Lee Anders. She was presenting on early (1850-1900) African American residents of Rice County. I’m always up to learning more about the history of this place I’ve called home for 42 years.
Anders made the entire event hands-on engaging by asking attendees to create flower mosaics that will honor the legacies of early African Americans. The flowers will be installed as public art at gravesites in Faribault and Northfield.
Not being especially artistic beyond creating with a camera and with words, I felt initially tentative about the whole idea. But Anders quickly put me at ease, explaining how to go about the process of creating mosaic flowers from glass tiles. We grabbed cupcake tins then scooped tiles in assorted shapes (mostly round) and colors (blues, greens, oranges and yellows) into individual holders. From there, we designed within a donut shape printed on paper. Later, we would transfer our designs onto sticky mesh.
As a perfectionist, I sorted my tiles by size and color before beginning to create. Part of me wanted to pause and take notes on everything Anders was sharing. But art won over being a journalist for the evening. I created. I listened. I asked questions. But I didn’t jot down a single word.
I heard about the success of those early African Americans who lived here. The barber. The young man who would become a doctor. The college grad. But I learned, too, of efforts to hide racial identity. Yet, races intermarried. And, said, Anders, Faribault was a welcoming place to those African Americans who settled here early on. To hear that pleased me greatly. Faribault has not always been a welcoming place for people of color.
The flower mosaic I created. Anders will finish the work. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
CONNECTING HISTORY & ART
Anders’ passion for history, genealogy and honoring the legacies of African Americans in southeastern Minnesota via her research and now her public art project coursed through the meeting room where a small group of us created colorful mosaics. It felt good to be part of something like this, a tangible way to honor those who came before us, who likely faced more struggles than I will ever know.
My mosaic was well thought out. I don’t usually randomly do anything. I used orange and yellow tiles in the outer two rings of my flower to represent the sun. The next ring featured blue round tiles representing the sky—dark blue for stormy days, lighter shiny blue for happier days. I finished my flower with an inner ring of green tiles representing the earth, growth, place.
The birthday cards I received, displayed on a vintage family dresser in my dining room. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
THANKFUL
Thus I began another year of life. Learning. Creating art. Honoring. Celebrating. And feeling incredibly thankful for all the people who care about me. From greeting cards to an audio message, from texts to emails to calls (including a singing of “happy birthday”), I feel cherished and loved.
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FYI: Mica Anders will host more workshops in Rice County (including in Northfield) to talk about early African Americans in southeastern Minnesota and to create flower mosaics. I encourage you to participate. Her project was made possible in part by Springboard for the Arts’ Rural-Urban Solidarity Initiative.
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