WE GATHERED, 175 STRONG, in Faribault on Saturday morning for the third nationwide No Kings Day protest. In a city which is decidedly red, this number impresses. This marked a record turn-out, far surpassing our top participation of eighty. I saw many new faces. And a few new dogs.
From a preschooler, who plastered stickers onto a cardboard sign and held his mom’s hand, to a first-time protester in her eighties, and all ages in between, we came.
We stood along Minnesota State Highway 60 in this city of 25,000 an hour south of the Twin Cities to raise our voices. We care about this country enough to step up and speak out. And not a single one of us was paid to protest, as some erroneously claim.
We came with hope and energy and enthusiasm.
We came, too, with our signs. Grievances. Concerns. Demands. Strong statements in support of freedom, democracy, voting rights, immigrants… Strong statements against the leadership in this country, immigration enforcement, the war in Iran. Strong statements about the state of the nation, the economy, whatever worries us.
When I saw several protesters without signs, I offered extras I brought. Pulling the signs from the back of the van, I asked them to put the signs back before they left. They did.
We came in our red Norwegian resistance hats and our handcrafted flower power sweaters and our Rebel Loon shirts.
We came, too, with our music, a guitarist and a bagpipe player adding a celebratory tone to the event. This was, after all, also a rally for like-minded folks who care about each other, their neighbors, this community, this state and America.
It felt good to stand in solidarity, to talk and smile and lift each other up. To not feel so alone in one’s beliefs in a mostly Republican town.
It felt good also to laugh at humorous signs. To compliment those who made especially creative signs. To recognize that every person lining the sidewalk on both sides of the highway had a vested interest in publicly standing up for what is right and good and decent.
I walked the protest line, welcoming protesters, looking at their signs, thanking them for coming, encouraging them to return next Saturday from 11 a.m. to noon.
This is not done. This resistance.
We will continue to come with our signs. We will come with our peace and Minnesota state and American flags. We will come with our stories and our words and our voices.
We will come in the spirit of peaceful resistance. In the spirit of resilience and strength and compassion. We are, and remain, Minnesota Strong.
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THANK YOU to everyone who participated in the No Kings Day protests at 3,100 sites across this nation today. A special thanks to those who showed up in Faribault. To those I invited, those I met, those I knew from past protests, know how much I value you and your voice. To the estimated 100,000 who attended the flagship event at the Minnesota state capitol in St. Paul, thank you for showing the world the strength of Minnesotans. To protesters who gathered in other countries, this American is grateful for your support. Continue to stand strong in solidarity for freedom. We must. We will.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
In which I protest, grieve & reflect June 19, 2025
Tags: America, assassination, commentary, government, grief, June 14, Minnesota, mural, news, NO KINGS protest, Northfield, protest, protest signs, reflections, Rep. Melissa Hortman, Sen. John Hoffman, thoughts, United States
I LEANED MY HEAD against Randy’s shoulder, my left hand gripping the rod of a protest sign and a small American flag. I felt such profound sadness in that moment. The moment when a pastor asked for a period of silence in honor of Minnesota State Representative/House Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman and her husband, Mark, assassinated in their home during the early morning hours of June 14.
Flag Day. Nationwide NO KINGS protest day. A day of gathering turned tragic here in Minnesota.
I alternated between leaning into my husband and leaning my bowed head against the bottom of my NO MORE KINGS protest poster held high, the sign with the cursive words, “I value freedom,” scrawled on the back side. The wind blew, swept my hair across my face like a veil covering sadness. The heaviness felt palpable here, in Ames Park in Northfield, along the banks of the Cannon River. But so did the energy.
We were a group of hundreds—maybe even a thousand (I’m not good at estimating crowd size)—gathered to publicly express our concerns about leadership in this country, about decisions being made that negatively affect all of us, about the state of and future of our democracy… It was my first protest. Ever. I wanted, needed, to be here. To remain silent seems complicit.
I’d already arrived when a friend texted that Minnesotans had been advised by state law enforcement not to attend NO KINGS protests. That warning linked to the suspect in the shootings of the Hortmans and of State Senator John Hoffman and his wife, Yvette. We would later learn that NO KINGS fliers were found in the vehicle of Vance Boelter, now accused in the double murders and attempted murders.
That explained why, on the way to the riverside protest, I overheard a woman telling a couple that her police officer son had advised her not to participate in the rally. She was going home. I was not. Nor were any of the others converging on Ames Park at noon. I wasn’t scared. Vested safety people, trained in conflict resolution and de-escalation, were in place. I felt safe in the masses, which, I suppose, is an unrealistic perspective. But I refuse to be silenced by fear, by the words and actions of those who attempt to suppress voices. And intimidate.
And there were those, including the drivers of a white pickup truck and of motorcycles which repeatedly roared past the rally site, spewing their opposition in noise and in political flags bannering messages I won’t repeat. But they, too, have a right to protest. Peacefully. Just as I do. And I wrote that on the back of a second sign: FREE to PROTEST. But, mostly, passing vehicles honked in strong support.
At this rally of people opposing the current administration and its policies and actions, I felt a unity of purpose and a deep, cohesive concern for the future of our country. I felt uplifted, embraced, empowered. Speakers spoke (although I couldn’t hear most). The pastor led us in prayer. We sang—”The Star Spangled Banner” and “We shall overcome.” We cheered. We chanted. We waved our posters and flags. And a group held an over-sized American flag, which I couldn’t see from my vantage point deep in the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd.
We were mostly an older group. Baby Boomers. Grandparents. Even octogenarians. Perhaps some protested during the Vietnam War. Or served this country. We’ve lived a few years, enough decades to understand that we need to rise up against authoritarianism. Enough to understand what’s at stake. But there were some young people, too, like the dad behind me with his preschool daughter playing in the grass. He clearly cares, if not for himself, but then for his child.
The morning after the NO KINGS protest, I left for Madison, Wisconsin, to spend time with my 5-month-old grandson (and his parents). As I snuggled Everett, I thought, he (and my other two grandchildren) are part of the reason I chose to protest. Their lives stretch before them. I want them to live in a country where they are free. Free. I want them to live under a government based on a three-pronged system of checks and balances, not one ruled by a king or some version of a king or dictator. I want them to live in a kind, caring and compassionate country. Not a selfish, uncaring, divisive nation filled with hatred.
I returned to Minnesota yesterday and am catching up on laundry and writing. And, along with my fellow Minnesotans, I’m collectively grieving the assassination of an elected official and her husband. And I’m thinking, this is what it’s come to in Amercia…
© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling