I EXPECTED AN EVENING of patriotic music performed by the Mankato Area Community Band, the group’s usual playlist during their annual summer show in Faribault. Instead, the band surprised the audience gathered June 25 in Central Park with a mix of patriotic, comedic and even feline-centric songs. Plus more.
I’m a fan of this band, which opened their free 7 p.m. Concerts in the Park performance with the “Star Spangled Banner,” followed by a song celebrating our nation’s 250th birthday. They ended the hour-long show with a rousing version of “The Stars and Stripes Forever.”
In between, though, they played a variety of music. Singers Stephanie Thorpe and Barbara Dunker meowed their way through “A Comic Duet for Two Cats,” complete in cat ears. They hammed it up, obviously having fun with the piece.
But it was was their role as church ladies singing composer William Bolcom’s “Lime Jell-O Marshmallow Cottage Cheese Surprise” that got the audience laughing, especially when the foil-covered salad was unveiled on the bandshell stage. That elevation of the salad reminds me of shows by the Looney Lutherans and the Church Basement Ladies, popular theatrical groups in Minnesota. It also reminds me of Jell-O salads my mom (and other women of her era) made for holiday meals or potlucks. I never cared for mayonnaise, carrots, celery, nuts or such in gelatin. Bananas in red Jell-O, yes.
I caught the Mankato church ladies just after they exited the stage, grabbing a portrait of them with their infamous salad before they ducked into an equipment trailer/makeshift dressing room and changed into costumes for their next song. They were on the move in this high-energy show.
I continued to roam the park with my camera—people-watching, dog-watching, watching for anything that might tell a story about these weekly summer concerts that have become a community staple.
For decades I’ve enjoyed many a beautiful Thursday summer evening of music and conversation at this concert series. All ages come here, settle into lawn chairs, park on benches, lounge on blankets laid upon the grass under a canopy of trees.
As the sun lowers, shadows across Central Park, the music plays on. Kids play. Adults listen. Some read. Dogs nestle on laps or in the grass. It’s an almost Normal Rockwell-like scene. Americana.
“Amazing Grace” quiets the spirit. A song about lime Jell-O brings laughter. And patriotic songs spark a sense of gratitude for America, on the cusp of celebrating its 250th birthday in this, “the land of the free and home of the brave.”
FYI: Faribault Concerts in the Park run through August. Next up is the Ya Ya Boys playing a mix of blues, old time rock n roll, outlaw country and Americana on July 2. Little Chicago, a cover band for hits of the 60s and 70s, performs on July 9.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Barns, an enduring symbol of farming June 25, 2026
Tags: agricultural symbol, agriculture, barns, childhood memories, commentary, cosmos, farm sites, farming, Hutchinson, Mantorville, Minnesota, photography, road trip, rural life, rural Minnesota, southern Minnesota, travel
IF A SINGLE BUILDING symbolizes agriculture in Minnesota, it is a barn.
Barns hold the history of farming within their walls. They hold the stories of farm families who labored therein. They hold memories—the heat of cattle, the lingering scent of manure, the pulse of milking machines, the scurrying of barn cats and much more.
Barns also hold heartaches and challenges and the satisfaction and rewards that come with farming.
To step inside a barn, or even to observe one from a distance as I did on recent trips out and about in rural Minnesota, is to understand the importance agriculture plays in this state.
Sure, farming has changed. Many barns no longer house animals, once a farm staple, as ag has shifted to crop farming. But at its core, this profession, this way of life, still centers rural parts of Minnesota, keeps small towns going. I saw that, from Mantorville to Faribault and from Faribault to Morris and back home.
Barns dominate farm sites just like grain elevators landmark many small rural communities.
While I see too many dilapidated barns fallen into heaps of rotting wood, I also see those that are well-cared for, still standing strong against the ravages of time and weather. I know that comes at a cost to the landowner. Keeping a barn properly roofed and painted is a major expense. I appreciate efforts to preserve barns built by generations past.
My ancestry traces to farming, to German immigrants who arrived in America, eventually making their way to southwestern Minnesota. There they found rich dark soil in which to plant seeds. Land upon which to build farmhouses, barns and other buildings necessary to the operation of a farm.
I am rooted in farming. I worked inside the barn my father built. I shoveled manure, scooped silage, pushed a wheelbarrow heaping with ground feed, carried pails brimming with milk, bedded straw, tossed hay bales from the hayloft, fed calves… I worked the land, too, picking rock and pulling cockleburrs. I carried lunch to my dad and uncles on hot summer days of baling hay.
There is nothing romantic about farming. It is hard work. It is a risky business affected by weather, markets, prices, too many factors out of a farmer’s control.
Yet, I will unequivocally state that I am incredibly thankful I grew up on a working farm. The lessons learned there about working together, about forging forward despite setbacks, about standing independent and strong are ingrained in me.
My dad laughed when I told him I wanted to be a farmer when I grew up. He knew better. There was nothing to keep me on the farm. And so I left, went to college, became a journalist. But even though physically-removed from the farm, I’ve always carried my ruralness within me, reflected in my writing and photography.
I find myself still drawn to rural scenes. A farm site. A grain elevator. A gravel road. Cattle grazing. Farm machinery, especially tractors, traversing fields. These all define agriculture. But it is the barn which symbolizes farming and the enduring strength and hope of a farmer.
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NOTE: I took these photos from the front passenger seat, either through the windshield or side window while traveling at highway speeds. Locations of several photos are not noted as I don’t recall the exact locations.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling