This photo, taken during a car show in downtown Faribault, shows the diversity of my community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
WALK THROUGH THE HEART of downtown Faribault and you’ll see diversity. Diversity in businesses. Diversity in the people who live here. It’s a beautiful thing, at least to me.
A banner in Faribault’s historic district features a vintage photo outside a local business. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
We need only look back to the founding of Faribault to understand the diversity which existed from the very beginning. Immigrants from around the world settled here, set up shop, engaged in business and grew this community. The shoemakers. The brewers. The furniture builders. The general store proprietors. The barbers. And on and on. They were as diverse as their skills. They shaped this place.
Faribault is the richer for those individuals and families who left their homelands, crossed the ocean, bringing their hopes and dreams to America. With the exception of Indigenous Peoples, we can mostly all trace our ancestry to a land a long ship ride away.
Somali men visit in downtown Faribault. My community is home to a sizeable Somali population, some of whom live downtown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2024)
Today our newest Faribault residents arrive mostly by plane. From Somalia. From Sudan. From Venezuela. From Mexico. And elsewhere. Many have fled worn-torn countries. Unimaginable atrocities. Their losses, their heartache, their pain is beyond what anyone should have to endure. But they have managed. They settle in, set up shop in our community, work in our local factories gutting turkeys and more, shingle our houses, cook and serve us their delicious cuisine… They work hard to rebuild their lives here in southern Minnesota. And I am glad to have them here as an integral part of my community.
Among the colorful merchandise at Mercado Local. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2024)
In neighboring Northfield, a downtown shop, Mercado Local, vends the art, crafts and more of artisans from Latin America and Hispanic backgrounds. Under the umbrella of Rice County Neighbors United, a nonprofit supporting the immigrant and refugee communities of Northfield, Mercado Local has flourished, serving as a marketplace, arts center (I’ve read poetry here) and community gathering space.
(Promo courtesy of Mercado Local)
From 4-6 p.m. Tuesday, April 15, Mercado Local is hosting a fundraiser for this nonprofit which aims to “empower immigrant entrepreneurs to thrive.” There will be updates, raffles, promotions, Loteria (like BINGO) and, of course, Mexican food. Even if you can’t make the event, I encourage you to pop into the marketplace. Just being inside this small space with all its colorful art and wares makes me happy. That’s one of the things I appreciate about Hispanic and Latino culture—the vivid colors. And I rather like the food, too.
A flag ceremony at a past International Festival in Faribault featured national anthems and information about some of the countries from which Faribault residents have originated. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
To have a diverse community is to experience the world up close, to widen our circle and understanding of others. Yet, no matter our skin color, our language, our customs, our dress, our roots, we are all just people. Individuals who laugh and cry and love and live. Now, together, we are growing our communities in new, exciting and diverse ways, just like those who crossed the ocean all those years ago to settle in America.
A graveyard surrounds the historic Valley Grove Churches, rural Nerstrand. I’ve walked this cemetery often. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I’M TRYING TO RECALL when I first began walking through cemeteries while out and about. But I think it started with my interest in old country churches. Cemeteries typically embrace historic countryside houses of worship. Baptized, confirmed, married and buried often defines those rooted in these rural churches. There’s a lot of history to uncover in a graveyard.
An angel sculpture graces the cemetery of St. Patrick Church of Cedar Lake Township, St. Patrick, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
But it’s not just the history that interests me. It’s the art. And the stories, many of which remain unknown, unless you’re familiar with the deceased or connected in some way. Sometimes you can piece stories together by looking at dates, names and inscriptions.
I find signage like this posted at Oak Ridge Cemetery to be helpful when visiting a cemetery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
As a creative, I’ve always been particularly interested in the artistic side of a cemetery, specifically the art of tombstones. Aged grave markers, most made of marble, feature images and words hand-chiseled by local stone masons. It is those long ago tombstones that focused a recent talk, “Understanding Gravestone Symbols and Icons,” by Oak Ridge Cemetery Association board member Tom Rent. An avid volunteer in the upkeep, preservation and restoration of the cemetery, Rent previously talked at the Rice County Historical Society about preserving Faribault’s oldest cemetery, one of 61 in the county.
Biographical markers are posted for some notable people buried at Oak Ridge Cemetery. I really like this way of sharing history and people. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Oak Ridge Cemetery, founded in 1857 on land donated by Levi Nutting, encompasses 10 acres, features 371 family names and is the burial site for 111 veterans, according to Rent. Rebecca Lougee, 29, who died of tuberculosis, was the first to be buried in the incorporated hilltop cemetery in October 1857. Earlier burials occurred before Oak Ridge officially became a cemetery. Many recognizable names from the early days of the Faribault area grace gravestones here: Andrews, Batchelder, Mott, Nutting, Roberds, Sheffield…
Oak leaves on a tombstone at Oak Ridge Cemetery symbolize strength and power through patience and faith. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
And on many of those tombstones, you will find symbols, a common way of communicating messages back in the day. I’d never really thought much about the meaning of the art I’ve seen on hundreds of aged tombstones beyond recognizing that lambs are on children’s grave markers. That Rent shared his knowledge and passion has opened a deeper understanding and appreciation of cemeteries for me.
This massive urn marks a grave at Oak Ridge Cemetery. The urn symbolizes mourning and eternal remembrance. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
He introduced his points about gravestone symbology simply by stating that symbols are something to which we have an emotional connection. For example, an eagle, a rose, a cross, are all symbols we can understand as representing freedom, love and faith. That makes sense to me.
Tom Rent prepared this slide explaining floral symbols on tombstones. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2025)
And then Rent broke it down further—into floral, hand and animal symbols. I found this particularly revealing. For example, ivy, which symbolizes immortality and everlasting love, is very popular on aged tombstones, according to Rent. So are weeping willows, although I don’t recall ever seeing one chiseled into stone. The willow, indicating intense grief and mourning, is often carved onto the gravestone of someone who has died unexpectedly, he said. He referenced the long ago drowning of a young boy in Faribault’s mill pond. A rose, which is difficult to carve, symbolizes heavenly perfection. An unopened rose bud implies a person died way too young.
Tom Rent prepared this slide explaining hand symbology on gravestones. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2025)
And then there are those hands, all those hands I’ve seen chiseled into marble tablet gravestones. The hand symbology traces back to Masonic handshakes mostly. Some are single hands, others handshakes, and all hold meaning. Rent shared that a heart on the palm of an open hand indicates charity and generosity. One such symbol decorates the Oak Ridge grave marker of Faribault police officer Henry Kaepernick, accidentally shot to death by a guard at the Faribault jail where the Younger brothers were held following a failed bank robbery in nearby Northfield on September 7, 1876.
Oftentimes the graves of long ago deceased babies are unmarked or simply marked such as this one at Emmanuel Lutheran Church Cemetery, Aspelund. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Finally, Rent talked about animal symbols, reserved for children’s gravestones. He named lambs, sheep and doves, symbols of innocence and peace.
Before even entering Calvary Cemetery, Faribault, you can learn something about town founder Alexander Faribault on this memorial. He’s buried at Calvary. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Of course, Rent shared much more in his hour-long presentation. But these are highlights, information I will take with me the next time I walk through the gates of a cemetery, symbolic of a threshold into the afterlife. I will no longer see just a daisy or a rose, a hand with a finger pointing heavenward, a sheep atop a child’s grave. Rather, I will see the emotional connections in the symbology. The choices made for gravestone art and messages, past and present, hold deep meaning, if only we pause to see, consider and honor.
I took this photo 10 years ago, when the refurbished Security Bank Building clock was reinstalled in downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)
THIS WEEK MARKED a week of time. Of deadlines and changes. Time to get the fish house off the lake by midnight Monday in the lower two-thirds of Minnesota or risk a fine or house removal. Time to pull out the snowblower, for some the first time this winter. Time to give up sweets, or whatever, in the penitent season of Lent. And now this weekend, time to move time forward an hour.
Looking from the bank clock south on Central Avenue. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)
That got me thinking about some of the outdoor public clocks I’ve seen through the years. They are not only useful if you want to know the time. But they are also works of art and part of local history.
A 1950s scene along Faribault’s Central Avenue, with the Security Bank Building clock in the background, is depicted in this mural in our downtown district. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Take for example, four prominent clocks in Faribault. A refurbished 1915 box style clock graces the Security Bank Building at 302 Central Avenue in the heart of downtown. In 2015, a professional clock “doctor” and a local stained glass artist restored the clock with funding efforts led by the Faribault Rotary Club. The bank clock is truly an historic and artistic jewel in my community. I can only imagine how many people have walked beneath that clock in its 110-year history.
The 1929 section of Buckham Memorial Library with its signature central tower. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Several blocks to the south, a clock focuses the base of the central tower at Buckham Memorial Library, a lovely Moderne/Art Deco style limestone building constructed in 1929 and on the National Register of Historic Places. The stained glass window below the clock was designed by Charles Connick of Boston. This is a timeless classic building where generations of families have pulled books from the shelves to grow their knowledge and simply for the joy of reading.
A bagpiper plays outside the Rice County Courthouse topped by a clock. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Just blocks away, a clock fronts the Fourth Street side of the Rice County Courthouse, built in 1932, also in the Art Deco style. Each year, events honoring veterans happen at the Rice County Veterans Memorial within view of the courthouse clock. For a moment or an hour, time stands still as we remember the sacrifices made for country, for democracy, by our veterans.
A view of the Shumway Hall tower from City View Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
And then across the Straight River on the east side of Faribault, the Shumway Hall clock tower rises on the campus of Shattuck-St. Mary’s School in a complex of buildings that looks more castle than private college prep school. City View Park atop a hill blocks from campus offers a bird’s eye view of the tower, a view that is especially stunning in autumn. Shumway’s tower is assuredly a Faribault landmark, with Shumway Hall built in 1887 and on the National Register of Historic Places. Thousands of students have passed beneath that clock tower as they learned, studied and grew. Time passages.
Each day we mark time. Just as these notable outdoor public clocks do in Faribault. I expect most locals take these historic clocks for granted, pass by them without a thought. Too often we do that in our personal lives also, thinking we have all the time in the world. Until we don’t.
The audience settles in as Nancy Vaillancourt, center, is about to begin her presentation, “Minnesota’s Hooded History.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2025; all photos taken with my smartphone)
NOT MUCH HAS CHANGED in 100 years. That summarizes my thoughts after attending a talk, “Minnesota’s Hooded History—The Ku Klux Klan in 1920s Minnesota,” followed by a Q & A Thursday evening at my local library. Hate groups still exist in America, just with different names, different targets, different locations, different levels of participation.
But the core ideology of these groups, based on what I heard and what I’ve read, remains unchanged. The same in 1925 as in 2025. Historian and retired librarian Nancy Vaillancourt could have been talking about current day America when she shared her research into the KKK in Minnesota. The KKK professed a strong Christian faith, patriotism, Americanism, American ideals and more as they targeted first Blacks, then Catholics, Jews and others, including immigrants. Sound familiar? Today this hatred and intolerance is coming not only from organized hate groups, but also from individuals and from people in positions of power.
Faribault hosted the first state Klan convention, with details outlined in this slide presented by Nancy Vaillancourt. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2025)
Back to Vaillancourt’s presentation Thursday evening. About 100 attendees packed the Great Hall meeting room at Buckham Memorial Library to capacity in a city which hosted Minnesota’s first state Klan convention in August 1924. Klan members from 69 cities and towns attended the event at the Rice County Fairgrounds in Faribault with the KKK claiming 2,500 in attendance. A publication noted fewer than half that number actually attended. Inflated crowd numbers. Sound familiar?
Nancy Vaillancourt displays an authentic Klan hood given to her by a woman from Blooming Prairie. She warned audience members that some items she would be showing may be disturbing and that they could step out if necessary. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2025)
Certainly, hosting a state KKK convention is not a proud moment in a city’s history. But it is history none-the-less and important to know. We cannot deny our past, even if hurtful and painful and awful. And Vaillancourt revealed plenty of hurt and hate as she presented, focusing on the KKK in my region of southern Minnesota. She confirmed the presence of Klan chapters in nearly 60 Minnesota counties at one time. Groups of men, women and sometimes children who, in their hooded coverings, spewed hatred and intolerance while waving American flags and singing “Onward Christian Soldiers.”
Cross burnings occurred in Faribault, (including on the bluffs below St. Mary’s Hall), Stockton, Red Wing, Winona and other locations cited not only by Vaillancourt, but by audience members. Like Teresa, whose husband’s grandmother had a cross burned in her yard near Waterford (outside Northfield) because she was Catholic. Klan hatred toward Catholics was particularly strong in 1920s Minnesota.
A Catholic mother, who had just given birth, watched as the KKK paraded past the Owatonna hospital while en route from the Steele County Fairgrounds to Central Park during the state Klan convention in 1926. Can you imagine the fear she felt? Not unlike the fear targeted groups of people are experiencing today in this country.
Sounds like a deceptively wholesome gathering at the Klan Park in Owatonna. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo February 2025)
Because Vaillancourt is from Owatonna, much of her talk focused on that community just south of Faribault along Interstate 35. Owatonna, it seems, was a hotbed of Klan activity, hosting local and state gatherings. But the fact that stood out for me was the Klan’s purchase of 20 acres of land east of downtown Owatonna. That land became Klan Park, a place to gather, organize and socialize. The local chapter even constructed a meeting house there. While it is disheartening to hear this, it was uplifting to learn that the land was sold in 1945—to a man whose wife was Catholic. Attendee Bonnie shared that bit of information about her great uncle, who was invited to join the Klan, declined because of his wife’s Catholicism and then eventually bought the land. Today that former KKK park is the site of soccer practice fields, Vaillancourt noted, where a diverse group of youth play.
Vaillancourt covered a whole lot more in her presentation. Like how the Klan recruited from fraternal orders, Protestant churches, via fiery speeches, by invitation. Fear and social and economic pressure were used to draw people into the Klan. Sound familiar? In Virginia, in northern Minnesota, the entire school board claimed Klan membership and made Bible reading in school compulsory. The mayor of St. James was a major grand dragon of the KKK. The Northfield Klan hosted a KKK homecoming Labor Day parade in September 1926. The Klan was big on parades. That makes sense given the intimidation and fear a mass of hooded marchers can instill in the public. And Owatonna residents were afraid, Vaillancourt said.
A powerful editorial from a southeastern Minnesota newspaper. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo February 2025)
Yet, there were individuals—like Bonnie’s great uncle—organizations and media who resisted and challenged the Klan. The NAACP, the National Vigilance Association, the Knights of Columbus… Vaillancourt specifically noted the Catholic-based KC group for effectively exposing Klan members in a community.
This gives me hope, when I hear of media, individuals and organizations that stood up and refused to accept hatred and intolerance. It gives me hope, too, when members of my community turn out in strong numbers to learn about “Minnesota’s Hooded History.” Knowledge is powerful. It gives me hope, too, when someone like Nancy Vaillancourt cares, researches and shares because, she says, she wants “to get the truth out.” Even while some still deny it.
A photo gallery exhibit, “Testify—Americana Slavery to Today, The Diane and Alan Page Collection,” will be displayed in the hallway connecting Buckham Memorial Library and the Faribault Community Center from April 1-23. The exhibit will also be at other libraries throughout the Southeastern Libraries Cooperating (SELCO) system.
The “Minnesota’s Hooded History” program was made possible with support from Minnesota’s Arts and Cultural Heritage Library Legacy Fund and SELCO.
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.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
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