Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Nice to see this public respect January 29, 2015

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DO YOU LIVE in a community where motorists still pull to the side of the road out of respect for the dead and those in mourning?

I do.

Late this afternoon, as the Parker-Kohl Funeral Home hearse passed my house followed by a trail of vehicles with lights flashing, motorists driving along Willow Street, an arterial road through Faribault, pulled to the curb.

That would be drivers traveling in both directions.

In that moment, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for these folks who could have hurried along their way, but stopped instead.

Thank you. Today you make me especially proud of this community I call home.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Gold, diamonds & guns

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WHEN THE SON WAS HOME from Boston for holiday break, my husband and I took him downtown Faribault one evening for our favorite local pizza served at the Signature Bar & Grill.

 

Faribault, Ron's Pawn Shop

 

He hopped out of the van across the street from the restaurant and promptly pulled out his cell phone, aiming it at the front window of Ron’s Pawn Shop. He was laughing.

 

Faribault, Ron's Pawn Shop window close-up

 

“Golds, diamonds and guns,” he read aloud. I paused, looked. He laughed. Again.

How often had I gone by Ron’s Pawn Shop and never really noticed the signage my college son found entertaining and amusing? Too often.

It proved an important lesson to pay more attention to that which I pass often, but don’t always see.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A Minnesota poet pushes his latest project, the weeCinema January 28, 2015

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:01 AM
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Not quite Vegas, but bingo balls at a church festival.

Bingo balls at a Minnesota church festival. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

MINNESOTA POET TODD BOSS is one of those creative types, so it seems to me, who is always tumbling ideas around in his head like bingo balls in a cage.

For him, poetry has exceeded the B-1 of poetry anthologies, of which he’s published two—Yellowrocket and Pitch. I personally love his work. He grew up on a Wisconsin farm; I can relate to much of his poetry.

Todd Boss reads from his poetry collection, Pitch, at the Owatonna Public Library. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2013.

Todd Boss reads from his poetry collection, Pitch, at the Owatonna Public Library. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2013.

Boss has rolled out public art projects and Motionpoems. He also writes commissioned poetry.

Now his latest idea, weeCinema, has tumbled into the public realm. He describes his current project as “an innovative new pop-up cinema concept designed to make art films more accessible to the general public.”

Motionpoems, Boss’ creative endeavor that turns contemporary poems into short films, has launched a KICKSTARTER campaign to raise $20,000 for the weeCinema. Monies will fund conversion of a used 20’x8’x8′ shipping container into a portable mini theater.

How sweet is that?

When I learned last week in an email about Boss’ weeCinema plan, developed in collaboration with weeHouse architect Geoff Warner and The Film Society of Minneapolis St. Paul executive director Susan Smoluchowski, I instantly thought of Little Free Libraries. Another Todd, Todd Bol of Hudson, Wisconsin, co-founded the LFL which has brought mini libraries to communities around the world, including my hometown of Vesta in southwestern Minnesota.

I can see Boss’ new theatre concept gaining similar momentum and interest in the art film world.

Once this first weeCinema is constructed—and I expect that will happen given Boss’ success at getting projects funded and done—I’d really like to see the mini theatre travel to outstate Minnesota. For those of us who live outside the Twin Cities metro, opportunities to view short art films in our communities are rare.

Bingo drew the young and the older.

Playing bingo at a Minnesota church festival.

We love our bingo. But we’d welcome a weeCinema, too.

FYI: To learn more about the weeCinema KICKSTARTER campaign, click here.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

My son would probably rather be in Minnesota right now than Boston January 27, 2015

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Monday afternoon the temperature in my southeastern Minnesota backyard ranged in the mid to high 40 degrees Fahrenheit.

Monday afternoon the temperature in my southeastern Minnesota backyard ranged in the mid to high 40 degrees Fahrenheit.

 

THE TEMPERATURE MONITOR atop the refrigerator reads 48 degrees outside. It’s likely off a few degrees. But still…

 

A view from and in my backyard.

A view from and in my backyard.

 

I swing the kitchen door open to sunshine squinting my eyes and flooding the backyard on a late January afternoon in Minnesota about as glorious as they come.

 

Fence shadows on the snow.

Fence shadows on the snow.

 

Bare-branched trees brace a blue sky. Birds chirp. Water clinks through the down spout in a gentle and methodical rhythm. The basket weave of the fence slants shadows across the melting snow.

I stand there, just stand there in my backyard, absorbing the warmth and sunshine my soul and body crave.

More than 1,000 miles away, my son is among Boston area residents enveloped in a major winter storm. Areas of the city are expected to get as much as 30 inches of snow accompanied by 50 mph winds. The Governor has declared a State of Emergency and issued a state-wide travel ban. Public transportation via the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority has been suspended for Tuesday. Same goes for Logan International Airport.

Tufts University, the college my son attends, is closed today. This mom, who understands winter from a howling wind raging snow across the Minnesota prairie perspective, is grateful.

I can only hope that today my 20-year-old sleeps in, stays put in his apartment, realizes the dangers of an historic storm like this, even within the confines of a big city.

Be safe, Boston.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Every time I cross this bridge, I remember January 26, 2015

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Southbound on Interstate 35W over the Mississippi River near downtown Minneapolis.

Southbound on Interstate 35W over the Mississippi River near downtown Minneapolis on a recent Sunday afternoon.

6:05 p.m.

A section of the then now wow exhibit at the Minnesota History Center in St. Paul features the 35W bridge collapse. This image shows the collapsed bridge and the emergency exit door from a school bus that was on the bridge when it collapsed.

A section of the “then now wow” exhibit at the Minnesota History Center in St. Paul features the 35W bridge collapse. The image shows the collapsed bridge. To the right is the emergency exit door from the school bus that was on the bridge when it collapsed. Everyone on board that bus survived.

August 1, 2007.

All the children and adults on the bus signed the door on display.

All the children and adults on the bus signed the door on display.

One hundred forty-five injured.

Thirteen dead.

Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

 

Bullying in Minnesota: In the news again & a look back January 22, 2015

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 3:21 PM
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WHO AMONG YOU has been bullied?

If I could see you all, I expect many a hand would rise.

Both my arms would be waving wildly, high above my head. Me. Me. Me.

That bullying occurred more than 40 years ago. Yet, it feels like yesterday when my junior high classmates picked on me and other kids from a nearby farming community. We, apparently, did not meet their standards given our rural addresses outside the county seat.

Countless days I arrived home from school in tears. Crying over mean words. Crying and wishing with all my might that things would change or that I would never need to return to that school.

A teacher who also bullied students added to my angst as did other teachers, who simply looked the other way.

These horrible memories flash to the forefront because of a bullying incident in Minnesota that is, today, big news. News because the father of the girl being bullied created a YouTube video that shows just how mean bullies (and their parents) can be—mean as in using the “N” word against the father’s African American daughter. Click here to read background on this bullying case and to watch the father’s video.

You would think in the year 2015, with all of the discussion on bullying, all of the awareness, all of the laws, that bullying would not exist. Wishful thinking. All the talk and rules in the world will not close mouths that speak words of hatred and racism and just plain meanness. Yet we need to keep trying.

What to do. There’s no single solution. I wished back in the late 1960s that my parents would have done something—anything. But that can backfire, too, make the bullying worse.

When our son was bullied as in being spit on, pinched, pushed and kicked by a classmate, my husband and I met with his teacher. Her response: Befriend the bully. Are you kidding? Place the responsibility for solving the problem on our elementary-aged son and not hold the bully accountable? Not going to happen. Eventually we pulled our son from the school.

Recently, I was shouted at during a meeting. I sat there stunned, struggling to hold back tears. Soon thereafter I left, unable to suppress my emotions. But this time the reaction was different. Concerned individuals approached me, assuring me that I didn’t deserve the verbal attack for asking a legitimate question.

After the meeting, the man who launched those angry words at me apologized. He phoned again early the next morning to apologize. I accepted both apologies.

If only every case of bullying ended that way, with a sincere apology, acceptance of responsibility and determination to change.

That would be hoping for Utopia.

A snippet from a sign at the International Peace Garden, Nerstrand Elementary School, Minnesota.

A snippet from a sign at the International Peace Garden, Nerstrand Elementary School, Minnesota. The sign and garden do not specifically address bullying. Rather the Peace Garden advocates peace and getting along, despite our differences. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

Yet, I can take my experiences and find some good therein. Because I was bullied, I am a more compassionate, caring and empathetic person, championing for others. I may have been that way without the bullying. The qualifying word would be “more.”

I can use my words in a positive way to affect change, to show others I care, really care. As we all know, words are powerful.

Now it’s your turn to speak. Please share your thoughts on bullying.

FYI: To learn more about bullying prevention, click here to reach the Pacer Center’s Kids Against Bullying website. And then click here to reach the site for teens.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

And the winner of the down comforter is…

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The prize: a toasty warm white down comforter, left, with a green duvet cover, right.

The prize: a toasty warm white down comforter, left, with a green duvet cover, right.

I WISH I HAD MORE than one down comforter with duvet cover to give away.

But I don’t. So Virginia, who coordinated with me on the give-away of bedding she no longer needs because she lives in warm and sunny Arizona, and I chose a winner. One.

Drum roll….

Merri McElderry penned the winning entry. This Minnesotan’s poem best met our request for entries that were creative and proved a true need for Virginia’s king-sized down comforter.

Here’s Merri’s poem:

If I could win this downy gift,
It surely would make me feel less adrift,
In icy wind and blowing snow,
It would I am sure uncurl my toe,
And I would fall on unfrozen knees,
Giving thanks to God, for miracles such as these.

Merri, please claim your prize by commenting on this post with your mailing address. (Your address will not be published.) Congratulations.

Thank you to all who entered and to Virginia for her generosity. She is making a difference.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Peters Billiards sign January 20, 2015

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TRAVELING THROUGH THE CROSSTOWN area of Minneapolis along Interstate 35W, I note the Peters Billiards sign flashing bright on the side of an earth-toned building.

 

Billiards, edit 1

 

You can’t miss it.

Pool cues and racked balls define the signage, leaving no doubt that this family-owned business sells pool tables and accessories. I appreciate such specific graphic signage that’s colorful, clear and concise.

Behind that sign there’s a history that stretches back to 1957, according to the company’s website.

Inside, you’ll find Greg Peterson, one of the world’s leading experts and collectors of antique billiard tables. Some of those tables are displayed here.

The business restores pool tables, even offers a custom line created by co-founder Ken Peters.

All of this I learned because that interstate side sign grabbed my photographic attention.

Well done, graphic designer.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Minnesota Faces: Layton Fossum January 16, 2015

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Portrait #3: Layton Fossum, the ultimate optimist

Layton Fossum posed for me at the August 2010 Cancer Stroll.

Layton Fossum posed for me at the August 2010 Cancer Stroll.

When I met Layton Fossum 4 ½ years ago at the American Cancer Society Straight River Stroll, I looked into the face of an optimist.

The rural Northfield man, despite a difficult struggle with neck and head cancer (the words he used), was upbeat and positive, living life to the fullest.

It was obvious, from looking at him, that he’d been through a lot, that cancer had taken a physical toll. He had no facial nerves on his right side. He’d undergone reconstructive surgery on his drooping face. He’d lost the hearing in his reshaped right ear. Gold weighted his right eyelid.

But Layton didn’t dwell on any of this.

He lived. And he lived a good life. A joyful life.

Layton died on Monday at age 52, losing his long battle with cancer. He will be buried on Saturday.

But his positivity lives on. In condolences posted on the Benson & Langehough Funeral Home website, friend after friend writes of an upbeat man of faith with a beautiful smile, a great sense of humor, a generous and enthusiastic spirit, the type of person we all wish we could be, but likely aren’t.

My favorite comment comes from the folks at Full Service Battery & Salvage in Farmington. (Layton collected and sold scrap metal besides working numerous other jobs.) They wrote:

Layton was our favorite customer. His positive energy always blasted through our doors like hope! You couldn’t be down with Layton around. We will miss him!

That we should all blast through life with hope, like Layton.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Thoughts on mass transit in Minnesota: memories & more January 15, 2015

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MY EAST COAST COLLEGE son enthuses about mass transit, specifically about the T in Boston. It’s his go-to form of transportation if he’s not walking or unicycling.

The lack of wide-spread mass transit in Minnesota frustrates him. As I see it, cars, cost, lower population, and a much larger geographical area all factor into less public transportation availability here than out East.

I’ve reminded him that many a compact East Coast state would fit inside Minnesota’s borders. We don’t have nearly as many people living here as there.

The light rail heads toward the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport.

The light rail heads toward the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport.

To be fair, mass transit exists in Minnesota’s larger communities and cities with bus service and, in the Twin Cities metro, light rail. And even in rural areas, limited bus service is available in some counties.

Decades ago, when I visited my Aunt Rae and Uncle Bob each summer, riding the Greyhound bus solo from my Uncle Harold’s gas station along Highway 19 in Vesta in southwestern Minnesota all the way to downtown Minneapolis, I experienced big city mass transit.

An excited nervousness jittered through me as Rae and I boarded a Minneapolis city bus to wherever she wanted to take me. To the Munsingwear warehouse to sort through piles of fabric. Or maybe downtown to view an art exhibit. Specific destination details mostly elude me now all these decades later.

But the wonderment of wheeling along narrow city streets, the bus pulsating to a stop, door swishing open, passengers boarding, remains with me. To be young and in the big city hustle far from corn and soybean fields and bellowing cows opened my eyes.

I saw beyond rural. I saw the possibilities. Another life. Another world.

Not that I ever fell in love with the big city. But riding the bus through Minneapolis sparked something inside me. A yearning for art galleries and music and museums and architecture. A library. An appreciation for people who didn’t look like the German Lutherans and Catholics back home. An almost dizzying awareness of noise and lights and motion. And tall buildings.

Vehicle traffic and light rail meet at this oddly configured intersection near the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport.

Vehicle traffic and light rail meet at this oddly configured and confusing intersection near the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport.

I wonder if, today, a young girl from outstate Minnesota boards the Metro Blue Line (light rail) with her parents, perhaps headed to Target Field for a Twins game or to the Mall of America, and feels the same thrill I experienced decades ago riding the bus through the streets of Minneapolis.

Does she imagine the possibilities, study the faces, note the traffic, delight in her destination, desire to explore more of the city? Or is she overwhelmed by it all, wishing only to leave?

FYI: The Minnesota Department of Transportation has a statewide rail plan for an inter-city passenger rail line running from the metro to my community of Faribault and perhaps farther south. This proposal is in the early discussion stages. Click here to learn more.

Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling