Minnesota Prairie Roots

REUNITING. RECONNECTING. REMEMBERING. Those words define reunions, whether among family or friends. Summer marks prime reunion time in Minnesota, including for me, especially this year.

From Pine River in northern Minnesota to Vesta on the southwestern Minnesota prairie to the Twin Cities and elsewhere, I’ve reconnected with people who are important to me, with whom I share roots and/or connections. And it’s been a joy because the older I grow, the more I realize that time is not a given and we need to gather and appreciate one another. With hugs, love and care.

My most recent reunion happened July 28, when Randy and I traveled 2.5 hours west to my hometown of Vesta in Redwood County for the Kletscher Family Reunion, held annually on the last Sunday in July. First we stopped at the cemetery to visit the gravesites of my parents, grandparents and other family members. I wiped away tears before we followed the gravel road into town, to the reunion site, the former Vesta Elementary School, now turned city hall and community center.

To walk back into the building where I spent my first six grades learning to read, write, spell, do math and more felt comforting and disconcerting, like stepping back into a school that no longer looks the same, but still holds the same memories. Clapping erasers outside on the east brick wall. Listening to Mrs. Kotval read Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books after lunch. Scrawling letters in a penmanship book. Weaving a rug from rags. Building snowforts. Jumping rope on the front sidewalk. Performing on the stage. So many memories in this space.

And on Sunday, that space also held some 60-70 descendants of Henry and Ida Kletscher, parents of twelve, two dead in infancy and only three surviving today. The family tree, printed on 30 pieces of paper, stretched across several tables. I am one of 39 grandchildren, my children among 114 great grandchildren of Henry and Ida in a line that today also includes 114 great great grandchildren and one great great great grandchild. We are a large and prolific bunch that continues to grow. That we still gather annually is a testament to the strength of family bonds. I grew up near my paternal grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, spending lots of time together.

But my generation and those thereafter have scattered well outside Redwood County. Family arrived from Wisconsin, Iowa, North Dakota and all parts of Minnesota from Blaine to Delano to Alexandria to Owatonna, Faribault, Waseca, and many other communities near and far. Those from even more distant locations like the East Coast did not attend.

As at all reunions, I intentionally circulated, attempting to converse with everyone at some point. This gathering, conversations were not so much about the past as about the present. We talked kids, grandkids, retirement (or not), health challenges, home improvement projects… There was a lot of phone scrolling, too, to show photos of grandchildren.

I cooed over new baby Wren; met Aubrey from West Fargo, going into first grade and whose name was easy for me to remember (and mine for her); saw photos of a wedding dress under construction by bride-to-be Sarah; encouraged Andy, who is in a drug trial study at Mayo Clinic for his debilitating heart condition; listened to Lynn’s recitation of a humorous poem her teacher didn’t appreciate back in the day; admired Aunt Iylene’s tatting projects (which she gave away on Sunday and which honor Grandma Ida, who also tatted); listened to stories of heartaches and challenges and life.

And then there was the impromptu concert by my cousin Kirt, who plays accordion. He brought his and was also gifted, at the reunion, with Aunt Ardyce’s 73-year-old accordion, a gift to her from her parents when she was only thirteen. She took lessons briefly as did two of her children. But the instrument has mostly sat in its case for seven decades…until Kirt picked it up and commenced to play, but only to a select few of us in the entry hallway. To watch my 86-year-old aunt, seated next to her nephew, listening intently to “her” accordion brought me such joy. I couldn’t help but think how happy this moment would have made my grandparents.

We were here, in this place, because of Henry and Ida. Henry served as clerk of Independent School District #639 when the Vesta School was built in 1958. To think that, 66 years later, Grandpa’s descendants would gather here to celebrate family felt incredibly right. Two hours after we ate a potluck lunch (which always includes blueberry dessert), we honored Henry and Ida with 1919 root beer floats. My grandparents were married in November 1919.

Here we were in 2024, a family still going strong—reuniting, reconnecting, remembering and honoring the legacy of Henry and Ida Kletscher. Henry, the 25-year-old farmer, who married Ida just days before her eighteenth birthday 105 years ago.

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FYI: In addition to the Kletscher Family Reunion, I’ve reconnected in July with Sue, a blogging friend; aunts from New Jersey and Missouri and family from Minneapolis; my son from Boston; and met three of Randy’s cousins originally from North Dakota. There are more gatherings to come with a Helbling Family Reunion in two weeks and 50-year class reunions for Randy and me in September.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling