Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Rural roadside surveillance May 18, 2016
ALONG U.S. HIGHWAY 14 at its intersection with the road to Wanda, just east of Lamberton, I spotted a roadside stand advertising rhubarb and asparagus. I had rhubarb back home in my refrigerator. But I didn’t have asparagus and I love that spring-time vegetable.
So Randy pulled our van off the highway, turning onto a farm driveway next to a green trailer. I asked if he had $3. He did. I had only larger bills. I grabbed the money and my camera, bracing myself against a fierce prairie wind to snap a few photos.
Then I headed for the trailer. I lifted the lid on a red cooler, noting the instructions to “Please close tightly.” I did after finding that cooler empty. Then I opened a blue cooler with the same results. Empty. No asparagus for me.
Discouraged, I took a few more photos and headed back to the van. Randy was already backing up, which I found odd. “Is that a wildlife camera?” he asked, indicating a camera inside a wooden box mounted to the trailer. Could be.
I slammed the van door, handed the money back to Randy and buckled up as he resumed backing toward the highway. About that time, a white vehicle started heading down the driveway. “We’re being watched,” I observed, which should have been obvious to me given the camera and sign noting “Protected by security system.”
Soon the vehicle curved back onto the farm site.
I left not only without the asparagus I craved, but also a bit disillusioned. I’d like to think unattended roadside stands don’t need security systems or chains or locks. But who am I kidding? Apparently myself.
© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
A rural Minnesota teacher takes action when her students need books May 12, 2016
This prairie chicken statue celebrates the real prairie chickens which reside in the Rothsay area. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo, May 2013.
FORTY MILES EAST of Fargo, an 18-foot tall, 9,000-pound statue marks Rothsay as The Prairie Chicken Capital of Minnesota. Without the kitschy roadside attraction, travelers likely would consider this just another small town along Interstate 94.
Downtown Rothsay is ag-oriented. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo, May 2013.
A few years ago, I popped into Rothsay. It’s your typical Minnesota farming community with a farmers co-op, hardware store, a bank, automotive body and repair shop, and such. And, if it’s lucky, as Rothsay is, a still surviving public school.
When I visited Rothsay three years ago, the school sat behind this historic blacksmith shop. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo, May 2013.
In the three years since I visited this Wilkin County community, a new school has been built. But there’s a problem, specifically in the Media Center. A shortage of books exists for high school students.
This graphic of book covers comes from the gofundme page.
Now Kristie Sullivan, an English Language Arts teacher who returned to her hometown to teach, has established a gofundme page to fund the purchase of books for high schoolers. She’s seeking $5,000 for titles ranging from classics like The Catcher in the Rye to the current-day popular The Hunger Games.
I can’t think of anything in education more important than books. They are the foundation tool of learning. If you can read, you can learn.
I understand the situation Ms. Sullivan faces. Years ago, when my children were attending a Christian day school in Faribault, I volunteered in the library. There was no funding for library books. So I had to get creative. New books came through cash gifts, a birthday book program, rewards from an annual book sale and from a used book drive. I also purchased many books at garage sales. I’d like to think I made a difference in getting books to students.
Kudos to this young teacher for caring so much about her students that she set up this gofundme page. Such action shows me she is passionate about teaching. And when a teacher is passionate, kids learn. Really learn.
(h/t Fargo Forum)
© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
In honor of spring planting season in southern Minnesota April 18, 2016
A pause in field work along the Rice-Steele County line Sunday afternoon.
FARM IMPLEMENTS KICKED up dust Sunday afternoon under blue skies clumped with white clouds here in southeastern Minnesota.
Prepping the soil for planting along 270th Street East in southern Rice County.
It was the kind of balmy spring day that draws me to the land, to memories of spring planting.
This tractor and grain cart (typically used during harvest) sat unattended in southern Rice County Sunday afternoon.
While tractors and other equipment have changed since I left the farm of my roots at age 17, way too many years ago, one constant remains. This is the season of transition. An awakening. Black earth turned to warm sun. Seeding of the soil. The promise of a harvest.
Just outside Medford this farmer prepped the soil Sunday afternoon.
The farm girl in me still lingers, waiting for spring days like this, for a drive into the country, for an opportunity to honor the land via photos, via thoughts, via a deep emotional connection to the earth.
© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Wondering about the Wanamingo Town Hall April 8, 2016
WOOD-FRAME TOWN HALLS aged by time hold a sense of history that always leaves me wondering.
The Wanamingo Town Hall, which I recently photographed in the ghost town of Aspelund in Goodhue County, is no exception. I thought a simple internet search would yield answers. It didn’t.
So I am left to wonder about this simple structure built during the Civil War and the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862. Was this originally a schoolhouse as town halls often were? Is it still used for township activities? For 4-H meetings? As a polling place? I found a photo of a new pole shed style town hall online indicating this historic building is no longer used by township government.
I also learned some history of the area from the book, Minnesota Geographic Names—Their Origins and Historic Significance, written by Warren Upham and published by the Minnesota Historical Society in 1920. Wanamingo, the author writes, “settled in 1854, organized in 1858, is almost wholly occupied by prosperous Norwegian farmers” (page 209).
Today Wanamingo Township remains agriculture-based. And you can still see the strong Norwegian heritage in family surnames, in country churches, in business names and more. Is the area still occupied by primarily prosperous Norwegian farmers? That I can’t answer.
© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Thoughts following a country drive west of Wanamingo March 30, 2016
WE ALL HAVE OUR PLACE of comfort, the place that brings us peace and allows us to escape, if but for a minute or an hour or a day.
For me, that’s a drive in the country, along the less-traveled back roads of Minnesota.
I am of the land, of sky and fields and barns and silos and farmhouses. Rural Minnesota shaped me into the person I’ve become. A writer. A photographer. A poet. A keeper of rural life and of small towns.
Memories of farm life tuck away in my heart. Doing chores—feeding calves and cows and scooping silage and manure. Walking beans. Picking rock. Gathering around the supper table with my parents and siblings to eat that which we’d grown and raised. Playing in the grove. Racing across rock solid snowdrifts sculpted by the prairie wind.
Life on the farm wasn’t easy. But it was good. Good in the sort of way that comes from working hard and understanding that family and faith come first.
I grew up poor. There were no birthday gifts, except from an aunt, my godmother. A meal was sometimes comprised of a kettle of plain white rice. Clothes were sometimes stitched from feed sacks and most certainly handed down. There was no telephone or television or indoor bathroom in the early years of my life. I went to church and Sunday School every week.
I am grateful my parents were never wealthy in the monetary sense. I would not be the person I am today. It is not important to me to have the newest or latest or best. I am content with what I have. I consider myself grounded and honest and loyal. Down-to-earth. Rooted. I love the land and I love family.
These are the thoughts that surface when I journey through the Minnesota countryside, when I photograph barns and farmhouses and other rural scenes. I am capturing the essence of the place that shaped me. Land. Sky. Fields. Barns. Silos. Farmhouses. And, yes, my family and my faith.
FYI: These images were taken while traveling along Goodhue County Road 30 west of Wanamingo, Minnesota, and in Aspelund, a slight veer to the north. I did not grow up in this area. Rather, I was raised on a dairy and crop farm in Redwood County, on the southwestern Minnesota prairie. My childhood home was nothing like the houses pictured here. Ours was a tiny woodframe farmhouse heated by an oil burning stove in the living room. The kitchen had an interior trap door that led to a dirt cellar. It was cramped. But it was home.
© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Utica, not New York, but Minnesota February 23, 2016
A farm site just minutes east of Utica in southeastern Minnesota.
YOU NEVER KNOW what oddities will surprise you in a small town, which is precisely why I delight in exploring rural communities.
Utica, a town of about 300 located along U.S. Highway 14 between Rochester and Winona, definitely presented some attractions worth photographing this past September. I use the word “attractions” loosely. What I find interesting may go unnoticed by others.
I’m always happy to see a grain elevator that has been maintained and is appreciated. These are small town treasures.
It was the red and grey grain elevator jutting above Utica that drew my husband and me off the highway and into this community as a freight train roared through town.
Utica may not have a website, but it has this sign to tell you a bit about the town.
From there we swung onto Main Street and noted that Utica was founded in 1858, if the signage on Utica Storage is accurate. We laughed at the “ELV. PRETTY HIGH” notation.
The law…
…up close.
And, if not for Randy, I would have missed the 10 Commandments posted on the front of the building.
The “can’t miss it” house.
Then, in a residential area, a Victorian house painted in lavender hues presided on a corner. I wondered for a second if it might be a tea house, but saw no such signage. Apparently the owner just really likes this hue given the outbuildings are also painted lavender.
This reminded me of my Aunt Marilyn, whose house is not lavender, but who loves the color. And I once worked with legendary Northfield News editor Maggie Lee, who wore only lavender.
Utica is definitely a farming community.
Utica’s final attractions were two tractors—a wonderfully restored John Deere and a rusting Farmall—staged for sale outside a shed.
Now, if we’d taken the fast route home via Interstate 90, we would have missed all of this. Utica would remain just a sign along the interstate. I would know nothing of its character, its individuality, its colors.
© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
On the road in rural Minnesota December 30, 2015
ROUNDING A CURVE along U.S. Highway 14 northeast bound into Sleepy Eye, the pick-up truck lugged a cargo of 14 round bales on a recent Sunday morning.
As it labored up the hill past the Sleepy Eye Golf Club, I wondered whether the top bales would remain in place. They appeared untethered. My husband and I were following two vehicles behind.
But the bales stayed put as the truck and trailer topped the hill, curved past grain bins and bumped along the highway through downtown Sleepy Eye where the vehicle in front of us turned, putting our van directly behind the mound of bales.
I was hoping we wouldn’t have to follow this wide load too far, especially not all the way to New Ulm. Passing along this section of highway is often challenging under the best of circumstances. And this was not ideal with bales hanging nearly over the center line and a non-functioning left trailer brake light.
On the east edge of town, the driver veered his truck to the county road on the right. I was thankful, especially when I visually confirmed that the top four bales were unsecured. The bales, Randy noted, weren’t going anywhere. Maybe. Maybe not.
In the back of my mind I remembered the ice that slid from a semi trailer along Interstate 35 four days prior. That ice missiled across the median and into the driver’s side window of our van. Bam, just like that. The glass didn’t shatter nor even crack. But it was enough to scare us, or at least me. The thought of a heavy round bale tumbling into the path of our van seemed equally as frightening.
Have you had a similar experience on the roadway or observed a situation you considered unsafe while traveling? I bet you have some unbelievable stories. Go ahead. Share.
© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Scenes along Minnesota State Highway 99 December 29, 2015
MINNESOTA STATE HIGHWAY 99 rolls through farm country and small towns from northeast of Faribault to Nicollet.
I call it the back road to my native southwestern Minnesota. It’s the route my husband and I take to vary our travel or to avoid U.S. Highway 14 road construction and/or traffic between Mankato and Nicollet.
Usually we are in a hurry , which allows no time to explore. It is a sad fact of much travel these days. But even in haste, I notice details.
When Randy mentioned that the Highway 99 bridge over the Minnesota River in St. Peter is due for replacement, I snapped a photo just as were about to cross it. I love bridges like this with architectural character. The 1931 steel truss bridge is on the National Register of Historic Places and slated for rehab (not replacement) in 2017, according to the Minnesota Department of Transportation website.
Waiting at a stoplight just across the bridge in the heart of downtown St. Peter, I turned my camera lens to a Swedish Imports sign, noting that we really must stop here sometime.
To the west of St. Peter in Nicollet, I photographed a sign for Schmidt’s Meat Market as we drove through town. The market has become a destination for many. We stopped there once. I popped inside, but quickly retreated to the car. Most people like the smokey smell of a meat market. I don’t. But that’s OK. We’re all different, with distinct tastes, likes and dislikes. That keeps the route through life varied and interesting.
© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
When the polka music fades in Seaforth December 10, 2015
Northbound on Redwood County Road 7 just minutes from Seaforth.
ON MY LAST VISIT back to my native southwestern Minnesota in late October, my husband and I drove through Seaforth. This community of 86 residents lies seven miles to the east of my hometown of Vesta in Redwood County.
A farm site along CR 7 near Seaforth.
When I was growing up, my school bus passed Seaforth en route to Wabasso, stopping along the way to pick up farm kids.
Like so many small town post offices, the one in Seaforth was closed by the U.S. Postal Service.
On occasion I attended a funeral, bridal shower or wedding at the Lutheran church in Seaforth at a parish that, because of diminishing congregational size, closed years ago. The church is now a house.
One of the many buttons my mom saved from Seaforth Polka Days.
As a teen and young adult, I sometimes attended Seaforth Polka Days, an annual July event featuring, as you would expect, polka bands. For 42 years, Seaforth has hosted this celebration and billed itself as “The Smallest Polka Town in the Nation.” That will be no more, I learned from my mom, who today resides in an assisted living apartment in Belview the next town north of Seaforth. Mom didn’t know details. So I turned to the internet and found this July 14 entry on the Seaforth Polka Days Facebook page:
It is the end of an era, the booster club has decided that this will be the last year for polka days. Every year becomes harder to find enough volunteers to work and crowds have been smaller as well. Let’s make this year one to remember. Spread the word that it will be the last, for those who always planned to come one of these years or for those who have fond memories from years past this weekend will be your last chance to celebrate polka days in Seaforth!
Still open or shuttered, I don’t know.
Such decisions to end large-scale small town celebrations are not uncommon. Year after year, the same locals often find themselves planning and working these events.
A scene in the heart of Seaforth.
Yet, Seaforth isn’t totally giving up. Area residents are still planning a 2016 community celebration during the last full weekend in July: softball games, bean bag toss competition, the fire department fundraising supper, tractor pulls, a DJ and one polka band (instead of many) and “buckets of beer.”
On the north edge of Seaforth, even the grain elevator is closed.
Now they’re soliciting names. Online Facebook suggestions thus far include C4th Small Town Days, C4th Clear Creak (sic) Days, C4th Clear Creak (sic) Fest, C4th Hometown Days, C4th Summer Days, Polka Days Part 2 and, finally, Redneck Fest.
Look closely, and you can see the faded words “Farmers Grain Co.”
Thoughts, on any of this?
Last I knew, my Uncle Milan owned this grain elevator complex. I don’t know whether he still does.
Do you help plan and work at a small town celebration? Do you attend small town celebrations? Let’s hear. Why are such events important to rural communities like Seaforth?
© Copyright 2015 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
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