TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AFTER the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on America, that event remains, for me, as close as my memory, writing and photos. As close as the stories retold annually. As close as the local commemoration held each September to mark this American tragedy.
September 11, was, indeed, tragic. In the thousands of lives lost. In the sense of security shattered. In the trauma inflicted on all of us old enough to remember.
Some were not yet born. Some were too young to remember. But for others like my mom, 9/11 marked a second monumental moment in American history. Shortly after the 2001 attacks, she compared September 11 to the 1945 attack on Pearl Harbor 60 years earlier. Mom was only nine then, an impressionable kid with no understanding that Hawaii was an ocean away from Minnesota and not, as she thought, several towns distant from her home. I could still hear the lingering fear in her voice even six decades later.
I often wonder if my young son, just seven at the time of 9/11, understood the distance separating us from death and destruction in New York City, Washington DC and Shanksville, Pennsylvania. He was home sick from school that morning when my husband, Randy, called to tell me about the first plane slamming into the World Trade Center. I turned on my television to witness the second plane hitting the second tower.
I recall thinking how surreal this all seemed. How was this possible? What was happening? My eyes remained riveted to the TV screen.
On the living room floor, my son and his friend, whom I was caring for that day, played. Soon they were stacking wooden blocks, blasting toy metal airplanes into the tall towers. Blocks scattered across the carpet.
I should have been the responsible mom and caregiver and switched off the TV. But I couldn’t. So I tried to explain to the boys the reality of what we were all seeing without scaring them. Was that even possible when I, as an adult, could not fathom the seemingly impossible?
The passage of 25 years dims the sharpness of those early impressions. But I remember feeling deeply unsettled. Scared. Could the Mall of America, a symbol of American capitalism an hour from my southern Minnesota home, be the next target? Anything seemed possible.
In the early evening of that fateful day, I recall looking skyward, searching for planes. There were none. They’d all been grounded.
I remember listening to President George W. Bush address the nation, reassuring all of us. In part, he said, “Terrorist attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings, but they cannot touch the foundation of America. These acts shattered steel, but they cannot dent the steel of American resolve.”
On that day and subsequent days, I felt a strong sense of unity among Americans. We were united in shock, in grief, in determination, in resolve to stand strong as a country. It was remarkable really, the way we stood together in singular purpose of defending democracy.
I wish now, 25 years later, that we could reclaim that sense of unity. Not through another tragedy, but rather through an understanding that we are all human, that life is precious, that we are all interconnected no matter who we are or where we live in the United States of America.
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TELL ME: What are your memories of 9/11? I’d like to hear your stories from that day.
FYI: The Faribault Fire Department will hold its annual 9/11 commemoration at the fire station on September 11. Attendees should arrive around 7:30 a.m. for the 7:46 a.m. ceremony.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Speeding on Willow Street, through my neighborhood September 2, 2026
Tags: city street, commentary, Faribault, Faribault Police Department, law enforcement, Minnesota, monitoring speed, neighborhood, residential street, speed trailer, speeding, traffic, traffic laws, traffic violation, Willow Street
FOR 42 YEARS, Randy and I have lived in the same house along an arterial street through Faribault. And in those four-plus decades, traffic volume has increased significantly due to growth on the south end of town. Speeding and crashes have also risen, based on my observations.
For example, less than a year ago a Suburban, pursued by a pick-up truck, took out the power pole by our home, crossed our front yard (almost hitting our house) and destroyed a newly-stained fence panel. Other crashes have occurred within eyesight of our home.
I don’t know the cause of most crashes. It could be inattentive/distracted/impaired driving, a medical issue, driver error, speeding… Without reading police reports, I can’t say.
But frankly, I am growing weary of all of this. The speed. The crashes. The disrespect for the Willow Street neighborhood.
Willow Street runs for 10 uninterrupted blocks from Division Street to Tenth Street through an all-residential neighborhood with one exception, an automotive repair shop in the 200 block. That’s a lengthy stretch of roadway without anything to slow down motorists. And, no, I’m not advocating for a stop sign. But something needs to change.
Those of us who live along this street deserve to be respected, to feel safe in our homes, to be seen as a neighborhood and not just a route for drivers to quickly get to their destinations.
A few days ago, the Faribault Police Department installed a temporary electronic speed monitoring trailer along the southbound side of Willow near our house per the request of City Councilman John Rowan. I’m thankful to see this in place as a speed deterrent. If that data is recorded, I’d like to see the results.
Curious as to how fast motorists were driving, I decided to observe. But before heading outside to watch numbers flash across the electronic screen, I made a small sign with two words: SLOW DOWN. I stood along the sidewalk by my house and watched, my head swiveling between oncoming southbound vehicles and the sign. Drivers could not see me and my sign until they were closing in on me and the speed trailer, meaning I did not affect their speed.
I set the parameters of only tabulating speeds of 35 mph or faster. I wanted to give drivers some grace. The speed limit is 30 mph.
I didn’t have to wait long. Within five minutes of planting my feet on the sidewalk late Monday afternoon, I observed five vehicles driving 35 (2), 36, 38 and 42 mph. One defiant driver even gunned his black pick-up truck to increase his speed when he saw me with my SLOW DOWN sign. The same happened mid Tuesday afternoon when I observed again for a short time, but did not tally speeds. The top speed, though, was 40 mph.
Between 4:30-5:15 p.m. Monday, I recorded 18 vehicles driving anywhere between 35-45 mph. I did not count the total number of vehicles driving southbound on Willow. But suffice to say that, along this busy street, traffic was steady, if not heavy.
Tuesday morning I was back on the sidewalk again with my sign at 7:40 a.m., when people are mostly driving to work and school. Within the first 10 minutes, I noted seven vehicles traveling between 35-38 mph. Thirty minutes later, when I left my post, I’d tallied 12 motorists driving too fast, most in the upper 30s. I also noticed drivers on their cellphones both days, a violation of Minnesota state law.
Based on numbers displayed on the electronic sign, I could have issued 30 warnings or citations for driving over the speed limit. But that is not my job. It belongs to law enforcement. Councilor Rowan requested extra patrols along Willow Street. I am grateful for that.
If existing traffic laws are enforced and Willow Street becomes known as a “speed trap,” that could act as an effective deterrent to speeding.
Something needs to change. Willow Street needs to be seen as the neighborhood it is, not as the thoroughfare it has become for too many drivers. People live here, walk here, bike here, try to back safely out of their driveways and cross the street here.
I don’t pretend to have all the answers. But education, prevention, traffic law enforcement and police presence seem logical starters.
THOUGHTS? IDEAS? Please share specifics.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling