Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Minnesota Faces: Steam engine tractor operator September 4, 2015

Portrait #38: Steam engine tractor operator

 

Portrait 38, Rice County Steam engine

 

The sheer size of a vintage steam engine tractor always impresses me. As do those who operate these monstrosities. Just look at the difference in scale between man and mammoth machine, this one at last year’s Rice County Steam & Gas Engines Show. You better know what you’re doing when you run one of these machines.

The steam engine tractor will rumble around again this weekend at the show grounds along Minnesota State Highway 3 three miles south of Northfield.

If you appreciate vintage tractors, flea markets, farm work demonstrations (like threshing, corn shelling, plowing, sawing, etc.) and more, then you must attend the Friday – Sunday event. Click here to see the complete line-up of activities. Don’t miss the Parade of Tractors at noon daily.

I promise, you will enjoy this event. I especially like its comfortable size—big enough to offer plenty to see and do, but not too large as to overwhelm. I always see people I know here and that’s part of the fun. Visiting. Oh, and the food, is pretty darned good, too.

#

Minnesota Faces is a series featured every Friday on Minnesota Prairie Roots.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The joys & revelations of a Sunday afternoon drive in rural Minnesota September 1, 2015

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , ,

THERE IS SOMETHING about late August and early September in Minnesota that is comforting, yet tinged with melancholy. Comforting in the hope of harvest. Melancholy in that summer is all but a closed chapter in our book of seasons.

In the morning, fog lingers after nights that necessitate the closing of windows, the pulling on of blankets. But then, as the day progresses, the chill gives way to heat and humidity. It’s as if summer and autumn are tugging at the weather blanket.

Somewhere east of Northfield.

Somewhere east of Northfield.

Beyond the weather, there exist undeniable visuals of the seasonal changes, best observed during a drive in the countryside. I am a firm believer in the value of a Sunday afternoon drive to notice that which all too often passes unseen and unappreciated. So this past Sunday, my husband and I followed blacktop county and back gravel roads through the up-and-down terrain of rural Rice County.

We have neither smart phones or a GPS, thus rely on our over-sized 1994 Minnesota Atlas & Gazetteer and our sense of direction (the husband’s, not mine) to navigate when necessary. Mostly we just drive, turning when we please.

On the edges of fields, corn leaves are drying.

On the edges of fields, corn leaves are drying. This scene is along a road between Faribault and Dundas.

It doesn’t take much to please me. Simply by being in the country, I experience a sense of peace. All is well in the world as I notice the seasonal changes of corn leaves morphing from green to parched. I can visualize combines roaring across the land, golden kernels spilling into grain trucks.

Beautiful horses and beautiful goldenrod somewhere east of Northfield.

Beautiful horses and beautiful goldenrod somewhere east of Northfield.

In and along road ditches, clusters of goldenrod bloom.

Flowers are past their prime, but still lovely, in this vintage Ford pick-up truck parked on the Fossum farm along Rice County Road 28 east of Northfield.

Flowers are past their prime, but still lovely, in this vintage Ford pick-up truck parked on the Fossum farm along Rice County Road 28 east of Northfield.

And when I look across the landscape, I see that tinge of color creeping into trees, the browning of the green that teases autumn into our days. Flowers are fading. A red barn seems redder in a land that is growing more subdued and muted. Grain bins stand at the ready.

Bins peek above a cornfield between Faribault and Dundas.

Bins peek above a cornfield between Faribault and Dundas.

I love autumn. It is my favorite season. Yet, I am reluctant for the chapter of summer to end. For I know that all too soon, I will be immersed in the chapters (plural) of winter.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Spring in rural Minnesota: The greening of the grey May 7, 2015

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 5:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , ,

I DON’T KNOW IF ANY GREEN is more vibrant than that of spring, especially here in rural Minnesota.

A scene photographed from Rice County Road 15 between Faribault and Morristown, Minnesota.

A rural scene photographed from Rice County Road 15 between Faribault and Morristown, Minnesota.

Green in the landscape after months of grey and white and black dances a visual delight. It’s as if our eyes cannot get enough of lush green grass and the tight buds of leaves unfurling in flashes of green that sway to the rhythm of the wind.

Farmers, such as this one near Wanamingo, are working the land and planting.

Farmers, such as this one near Wanamingo, are working the land and planting.

Soon seeds sown into black earth will erupt in rows of corn and soybeans like a precision marching band overtaking fields.

harvest

A dryer and bin on a rural Rice County, Minnesota, farm await the 2015 harvest about a half a year away.

The beat of the seasons begins. Planting into growing into harvest. A familiar rhythm in this land I love.

© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Ending domestic violence: It takes a community October 21, 2014

This logo comes from a 5K walk/run honoring Faribault native Margie (Brown) Holland and her unborn daughter, Olivia. Margie's husband, Roger Holland, is serving two terms of life in prison for their 2013 murders.

This logo comes from a recent fundraiser honoring Faribault native Margie (Brown) Holland and her unborn daughter, Olivia, murdered in 2013. Roger Holland, Margie’s husband, is serving two terms of life in prison for their murders. Margie’s dad was once my neighbor.

THE MEMORY STILL STIRS ANGST.

His voice rising in anger. Yelling in her face. Rage exploding. The peace of a glorious autumn morning shattered.

The disturbance drew me from my task of emptying flower pots to observe the young couple passing by across the street.

He was shirtless on this October morning when the temp had not yet reached 60 degrees. That in itself seemed odd.

But it was his anger toward the woman walking beside him that led me into my front yard, thoughts of calling the police already formulating.

I pulled muddy gloves from my hands, patted the cell phone locked in my back jeans pocket. Then I watched. I watched as he shoved her, grabbed her. Then a parked vehicle blocked my view before they emerged on the other side and she attempted to cross the street. He pulled her back. Then they disappeared around the corner, out of my view.

I’d witnessed enough.

This is not fiction. This is an actual case of domestic abuse. This happened last week in my neighborhood in my community of Faribault, Minnesota, where last year the Hope Center served 473 women and 54 children through its domestic violence program. The center’s sexual assault program served 62 primary and 38 secondary (family and friends) victims.

Hope Center advocates provide additional assistance and education. Click here to learn more.

I don’t know what happened to the couple after I phoned law enforcement. Could I have done more? Should I have intervened?

If this man was verbally and physically abusing this woman in public along a busy street, I fear how he treats her behind closed doors.

#

THE HOPE CENTER and my county of Rice have submitted a grant request to fund a new program, “The Blueprint for Safety,” in an effort to stop domestic violence, according to information on the county attorney’s Facebook page. I wish it wasn’t needed. But it is.

The program initiates a collaborative effort among agencies to tackle issues, “to move forward with things such as better data collection, information sharing, training, and understanding of each player’s role to help improve the response to domestic violence in our community.” (Click here to learn more.)

I applaud this effort.

But it still takes each of us, individually, to speak up with a strong and unwavering voice against domestic violence. It takes a community.

FYI: If you live in Rice County, Minnesota, and are a victim of domestic abuse, you can call the Hope Center 24-hour SafeLine at 1-800-607-2330.  The center also offers support to family and friends. Call 507-332-0882 during business hours to speak with an advocate.

#

FORTY YEARS AGO in St. Paul, the first shelter in the U.S. for battered women and their children was established. Women’s Advocates will mark that occasion with an anniversary celebration and benefit on Thursday evening, October 23, at the Minnesota History Center in St. Paul. Click here for more info. Today the center serves an average of 45 women and children daily.

FYI: For Women’s Advocates information or help, call the 24-hour crisis line at 651-227-8284 or state-wide toll free at 1-866-223-111.

#

TO THE NORTH IN DULUTH,  a coordinated community response to domestic violence has just received an international award. The World Future Council last week bestowed the 2014 Future Policy Award for Ending Violence against Women and Girls upon The Duluth Model at a ceremony in Geneva, Switzerland. The equivalent of a gold award recognizes best policies to combat violence against women and girls. In summary, the plan focuses on the community working together to end domestic violence and on holding offenders accountable and keeping victims safe. To learn more about The Duluth Model, click here. To learn more about the World Future Council, click here.

FYI: For more information about the Domestic Abuse Intervention Programs in Duluth, call 218-722-2781.

#

Another resource to call is the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

Click here to read an earlier post I published about domestic violence.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Season of harvest in southeastern Minnesota, a photo essay October 13, 2014

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , ,
Rural Rice County, Minnesota, west of Faribault.

Rural Rice County, west of Faribault.

ACRE UPON ACRE OF CORN unfolds in the mixed sunshine and grey skies of an October afternoon in southeastern Minnesota.

East of Morristown, Minnesota, along Rice County Road 15.

Harvest underway east of Morristown, along Rice County Road 15.

It is the season of harvest.

Just west of North Morristown, Minnesota.

Just west of North Morristown.

Cornfields roll into soybean fields, some harvested, some not.

Semis await the harvest in southeastern LeSueur County.

Semis await the harvest in southeastern LeSueur County.

Harvesting just south of Faribault off Rice County Road 45.

Harvesting just south of Faribault off Rice County Road 45.

A semi ready to be filled with corn.

A semi ready to be filled with soybeans.

Trucks and tractors and combines labor or await the farmers who will toil day into dark to reap that which they’ve planted and tended and watched until now.

Bins likely have been emptied for the new crop.

Bins likely have been emptied for the new crop.

Corn fills a wagon at a farm site east of Morristown along Rice County Road 15.

Corn fills a wagon at a farm site east of Morristown along Rice County Road 15.

More bins to bank the harvest.

More bins to bank the harvest.

Corn brims wagons like a stash of gold, banks of bins or the local grain elevator ready for harvest delivery.

In rural Rice County, a wagon at the harvest ready.

In rural Rice County, a wagon at the harvest ready.

This is the season the farmer awaits.

Waiting...

Waiting…

This October, this harvest time.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Reflections on Autumn’s arrival in Minnesota October 1, 2014

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , ,
A tree line tinged in color at Nerstrand Big Woods State Park in southeastern Minnesota.

A tree line tinged in color at Nerstrand Big Woods State Park in southeastern Minnesota.

AUTUMN GRIPS ME like no other season.

Autumn reveals herself in fields ripening along Rice County Road 24 between Faribault and Kenyon, Minnesota.

Autumn reveals herself in fields ripening along Rice County Road 24 between Faribault and Kenyon, Minnesota.

She draws me into fields drying in russet shades,

Maples are flaming, like this one alongside Minnesota State Highway 60 on the east side of Faribault.

Maples are flaming, like this one alongside Minnesota State Highway 60 on the east side of Faribault.

to maples flaming red,

An idyllic rural scene of drying soybeans and gravel road just off Rice County Road 24.

An idyllic rural scene of drying soybeans and gravel road just off Rice County Road 24.

to the aged scent of earth and fire,

Bins await the new crop.

Bins await the new crop.

to the hope of a farmer

Soybeans await harvest.

Soybeans ripe for harvest in Rice County.

and the end of the growing season.

Days of cobalt blue skies or pressing grey give way to evenings that welcome the flicker of candles, apple crisp warm from the oven, sweaters pulled on.

Drying cornfields herald the arrival of Autumn.

Drying cornfields herald the arrival of Autumn in southeastern Minnesota.

These days, as my flip flops crunch upon fallen leaves, I long to hold on to Autumn, to yank her away from Winter’s pull.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Feeling unsettled in a rural Minnesota cemetery June 12, 2014

A TIME EXISTED when I avoided cemeteries. I was young then, unappreciative of their value from an artistic, historical and personal perspectives. And, if I’m honest, I’ll admit that I felt a bit afraid walking atop graves.

My thoughts have changed. Whenever my husband and I happen across a rural cemetery, we’ll often stop and wander.

The aged Eklund Cemetery sits among farm fields in Walcott Township.

The aged Eklund Cemetery sits among farm fields in Walcott Township.

We did just that recently while in section 25 of Walcott Township in southeastern Rice County. This Minnesota township was named in honor of Samuel Walcott, an early, enthusiastic settler from Massachusetts. He returned to the East “after…his mind became distraught and he found an abiding place in an insane retreat in his native State.”

Randy, whose vision far surpasses mine, spotted the small final resting place along County Road 90, headed toward it and pulled into a field drive as no other parking exists.

The unassuming entry to the Eklund Cemetery.

The entry to the Eklund Cemetery, which sits almost on top of the road.

Now I’ve explored many a country cemetery. But I’ve never had to step over a double stretch of chains to enter. That should have been my first clue that the Eklund Cemetery would trouble me.

The old dates impressed me.

The old dates impressed me.

I felt almost instantly uncomfortable here as I meandered among aged tombstones marking the graves of early settlers like Hans Flom, born in 1826. There are 143 people buried at Eklund, including five with the Eklund surname.

The first burial here, of one-month-old Annie B.O. Sam, occurred after her February 28, 1884, death, according to the Dalby Database (a remarkable online collection of cemetery and other historical info compiled by Faribault residents John and Jan Dalby). A few months later, the 17-month-old daughter (listed only as “baby”) of Christ and Julie Davidson was buried here.

Such long ago dates impress me.

Weeds flourish among the weathered tombstones.

Weeds flourish among the weathered tombstones.

But I was unimpressed by the condition of the cemetery where dandelions and creeping Charlie and other weeds flourish in the too tall grass. Perhaps frequent rains have kept the caretaker away.

A fence separates graveyard from fields.

A fence separates graveyard from fields.

No matter, it was not the unkempt lawn that bothered me as much as the sunken graves, the marked depressions in the earth that show the precise spots of burials. When my husband remarked that vaults were not used back in the day, my concern increased. As foolish as it seems, I worried about suddenly sinking into a grave. And I’ve seldom felt that way before in a cemetery.

Eklund Cemetery, Ingeborg's gravestone

Eklund Cemetery, Nels Nelson gravestone

Eklund Cemetery, Palrud gravestone

I hurried my tour, distracting myself by noticing the abundance of Norwegians names like Hans, Ingeborge, Nels and Erik, middle name Ole.

The most unusual name I noticed.

The most unusual name I noticed.

This cemetery once served Eklund (or Egelund) Evangelical Norwegian Lutheran Church, disbanded in 1957. That steepleless church building now sits off Minnesota State Highway 60 on Faribault’s east side, according to information written by Helga Sam Thompson. Its current use is that of a chiropractic office.

A close-up of a time-worn, weathered tombstone.

A close-up of a time-worn, weathered tombstone.

In one particular spot in the cemetery, I noticed a patch of black earth the size of a grave. Just dirt, unheaped, no grass, with weeds beginning to edge into the soil. No marker marked the spot. Again, that uncomfortable feeling settled upon me. The last burial here, of Bernard C. Sam, happened in 2011. Prior to that, the most recent burial, of 22-year-old Matthew David Caron, occurred in 1997.

Someone still cares about a loved one buried here.

Someone still cares about a loved one buried here.

Shortly thereafter, Randy plucked an errant plastic flower petal from the ground, fallen from a gravestone cross. I advised him to leave the orchid colored bloom there. He did.

Nature leaves her signature on an in-ground grave marker.

Nature leaves her signature on an in-ground grave marker.

I wanted nothing from this cemetery. Nothing.

FYI: If you are into genealogy and/or history, visit the Dalby Database which includes a remarkable collection of 2.5 million records and increasing daily. Click here to read a summary of what you can find on this website. And then click here to reach the Dalby Database. John and Jan Dalby of Faribault were given the Minnesota Genealogical Society’s Pioneer Explorer Award in 2010.

Special thanks to John Dalby for providing me with links to information about Eklund Cemetery and church and Walcott Township histories.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A Sunday afternoon of memories June 11, 2014

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

 

Sunday drive, farmsite with red trucks

IT IS THE TYPE OF DAY when clouds dodge in and out of the sky. Mostly in. The type of day when I wonder if I should grab a sweatshirt heading out the door. The type of day when, one minute my husband and I are riding with the vehicle windows rolled down, the next zipping them up as the sun ducks behind clouds and cold air rushes inside.

Sunday drive, barn and silos, distant

It is the type of day, early in June, when grass and foliage appear vibrant green in a season of excess moisture.

Sunday drive, fork in the road

And I wonder how, after a deluge of rain the day prior, cars can still kick up dust along gravel roads.

Sunday drive, grain complex

Everything seems sharp and new, as if I am seeing everything for the first time on this Sunday afternoon drive. And I am, after the longest of Minnesota winters.

Sunday drive, hillside farmsite

Barns and farmhouses scattered between fields hold memories that cause my very soul to ache for missing the farm.

I grasp snapshots of prairie memories from the scenes that unfold before me.

Crossing the Straight River southeast of Faribault.

Crossing the muddy Straight River southeast of Faribault.

Me pedaling my bike over the bridge across the muddy Redwood River.

On the other side of the bridge, train tracks.

On the other side of the bridge, train tracks in rural Rice County, Minnesota.

Me scanning the tracks as I cross the rails into Vesta.

The pick-up truck, a rural necessity.

The pick-up truck, a rural necessity.

Me sitting beside my Dad in his red-and-white Chevy pick-up, bouncing across the stubbled alfalfa field.

Birdhouse condominion perched atop a hill next to a building site in rural Rice County, Minnesota.

Birdhouse condo perched atop a hill next to a building site in rural Rice County, Minnesota.

Memories rise and fall like the hilly roads that twist and turn our van through the countryside southeast of Faribault.

Our drive takes us through Walcott Township in Rice County. I grew up in Vesta Township 120 miles to the west in Redwood County.

Our drive takes us through Walcott Township in Rice County. I grew up in Vesta Township 120 miles to the west in Redwood County.

I’m unfamiliar with this place, yet familiar.

An aged Fordson parked alongside a road southeast of Faribault.

An aged Fordson parked alongside a road southeast of Faribault.

I know these barns, these farmhouses, these tractors, these fields. In another place, another time.

A farm upbringing imprinted them upon my soul 120 miles to the west of here.

FYI: To read my first post from this Sunday afternoon drive, click here.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Riding the waves… February 4, 2014

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:00 AM
Tags: , , , , ,

Snowmobile photo, edited

…Minnesota style.

Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Seeking solace on a drive through rural Rice County January 21, 2014

The rural scene unfolds before us.

The rural scene, dominated by a blue sky, unfolds before us.

BLUE SKY STRETCHES before my husband and me as we traverse back gravel roads northwest of Faribault Sunday afternoon.

A drive along country gravel roads always uplifts me, no matter the season.

A drive along country gravel roads always uplifts me, no matter the season.

I yearn for this escape, for this reconnection to the land, this attempt to rejuvenate my spirit.

This scene

This scene inspires the poet in me.

Just being in the country calms my soul, brightens my outlook, causes me to pause and appreciate this land, this place God has created and given into our care.

Memories in this scene...

Memories in this scene…

In this moment, at this time, I slip into the past, envision myself laboring in the barns we pass. Soothing thrum of the milking machine. Cocooning warmth among cows snugged in mounds of golden straw. The comfort of ‘CCO radio.

I envision these fields seeded in corn or soybeans.

I envision these fields seeded in corn or soybeans.

In farm fields, I see a much younger and skinnier version of myself plodding between rows of soybeans to yank cockleburs on a scorching summer day.

The comfort of memories in a farm yard.

The comfort of memories in a farm yard.

At the sight of a farmyard, I hear my buckle overshoes crunch upon hard-packed snow as I follow the path from house to barn.

I imagine this field seeded in corn or soybeans.

An ocean of snow-washed land.

Memories unleash in this landscape, in the view of farmyards anchored into hillsides within an ocean of snow-washed fields.

A remnant of yesteryear in an old corn crib.

A remnant of yesteryear in an old corn crib.

I am happy here. Content. At peace.

Splashes of red jolt the blue and white landscape.

Splashes of red jolt the blue and white landscape.

Yes, even in this winter of too much cold and too many snowy days, I find solace in blue skies and sunshine, barns and white-washed fields.

The punctuation of a red wagon and its shadow stretching across the snow draw my attention.

The punctuation of a red wagon and its shadow stretching across the snow draw my attention.

FYI: To read my previous post featuring photos from this Sunday afternoon drive, click here.

© Copyright 2014 Audrey Kletscher Helbling