We followed roads west of Faribault toward the Kilkenny and Montgomery areas. I gave up trying to keep track of where we were. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
THE WHEELS KICKED UP DUST as our van moved along back gravel roads in Rice and Le Sueur counties on a recent weekday. Randy and I were on a fall color drive that took us past cornfields and farm sites, past woods and wetlands, past trees blazing orange and those still green.
This farm site sits along Leroy Avenue, just off 160th St. W. between Shieldsville and Kilkenny. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
As we wound our way along winding roads and along straight grids west of Faribault, I felt what I always feel this time of year—a longing for the land. In this season of harvest, this season of leaves coloring the landscape, I yearn to connect with the soil, the earth, the agrarian heritage that roots me.
Corn awaits harvesting. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
I miss the land. I miss the roar of combines harvesting corn and soybeans, golden grain spilling into wagons or trucks. I miss the distinct, indescribable scent of autumn rising from fields. I miss all of it. A country drive in October helps ease the heartache of one who grew up on a farm, but left it fifty years ago.
This curving gravel road took us past wooded hillsides and a wetlands restoration area. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
This is the time of year, whether you’re rural, small town or city-raised, to take a drive into the countryside. Off paved roads. Onto gravel routes.
Some treelines were vivid with color, others not. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
I am always drawn to barns rising above the landscape. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
A rural intersection ablaze in color. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Gravel forces a slower pace, offers opportunities to stop and appreciate that which unfolds before you. On this drive, it was the coloring of trees, just beginning, aged farm sites back-dropped by woods or surrounded by fields. Just being here in the rural-ness honored my past, filled my soul.
A Czech church and cemetery west of Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
And then we paused at an historic country church nestled among cornfields near Montgomery. We walked the expansive cemetery. As I meandered and took photos, I heard the wind rustling the dried corn leaves, a comforting sound in the silence of the land.
Anna and John Frolik are among the early settlers buried at Budejovice. They were born in 1886 and 1887. Their photos adorn their tombstone. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
I wondered about the Czech immigrants who settled in the area, built Budejovice Church in 1868. What were their heartaches, their stories, their hopes and dreams? I expect they longed for the Old Country, for the familiarity of home, for the loved ones an ocean away.
This machine shed, surrounded by cornfields, sits just across the gravel road from the church and cemetery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Such thoughts filter through my mind whenever I am among the souls of the departed, my soles touching the land under which they lie buried. I don’t feel sadness as much as a sense of respect for those who came before me, who forged a new life in Minnesota with grit, determination and a whole lot of fortitude.
Cornfields flank a gravel road leading to a colorful treeline. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2024)
Driving the countryside in autumn evokes not only nostalgia and reflection, but also a sense of time passing. Leaves turn color. Crops morph to golden hues, ready for harvest, or already harvested. And dust rises from the land, carried on the wind, coating our van. Miles and miles and miles of gravel roads behind us, we arrive home. I’m exhausted. My shoes are covered in dust. But I feel content. Replenished. I needed this, this country drive that was about much more than viewing fall colors. It was also about filling my soul.
I photographed this scene in Pine River, which calls itself Minnesota’s S’more Capital, Doug Ohman said.From what I read online, the Whitefish Chain of Lakes terms itself “The S’more Capital of the World.” Pine River is on the northwest end of the Whitefish Chain. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
I FELT LIKE A BIT OF A SMARTIE, you know, that kid who raises his/her hand to answer the teacher’s questions. But Doug Ohman told me later, when I apologized to him for my overzealous class participation, that he actually appreciates enthusiastic interaction with audience members. And that I was on Monday evening while attending Ohman’s presentation on Minnesota town names at the Owatonna Public Library. I couldn’t help myself. This presenter is incredibly engaging, energetic, interesting and really good at what he does.
One of many Minnesota books by Doug Ohman. (Cover image sourced online)
Ohman is a prolific presenter, Minnesota author and photographer—he’s written 16 photo-rich books—who travels the state giving talks on 36 subjects. Those range from churches to schoolhouses, courthouses to libraries, state parks to cabins, and, oh, so much more. If you want to learn more about Minnesota, especially its small towns and rural areas, and appreciate history, then Ohman is your guy. I’ve seen him present twice previously, both times on churches.
But Monday evening, it was all about “Name That Town.” Ohman began by telling a room packed with people that he would be doing an interactive game show style presentation. Oh, oh, I thought, when he asked for help from an audience member. Eventually Steve volunteered and the game was on.
Sweetcorn for sale at a stand across from St. Michael’s Catholic Church in Buckman, my husband’s hometown. Buckman is southeast of Little Falls in Morrison County. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
It didn’t take long before Ohman put the audience at ease with his humor and questions. A lot of questions. About towns. And that’s where I proved my smarts. Like Ohman, I enjoy visiting small towns, stopping to explore and photograph them. He feels like a kindred spirit in that we are both writers and photographers who value rural Minnesota.
I recently photographed this beautiful old building in downtown Foley, seat of Benton County. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
For 1 ½ hours, Ohman talked about Minnesota towns, going through the alphabet from A-Z, showing selected photos of communities he’s visited. He invited audience members to shout out town names for each letter, often pausing to ask why they named that particular town and occasionally awarding prizes for correctly answered questions.
I found this signage on a building in downtown Kenyon in Goodhue County east of Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2024)
There were familiar town names like Duluth, Hastings, Red Wing and Stillwater. But then Ohman threw out towns like Dorothy (south of Thief River Falls), Johnson (the “most Minnesotan name,” he said, and located near Chokio) and Quamba (between Mora and Hinckley). All three were unfamiliar even to me.
Ohman referenced this multi-cultural mural in Walnut Grove, where Hmong immigrants have settled and embraced the prairie history of author Laura Ingalls Wilder. He also noted that Walnut Grove is the only community where he found a working pay phone. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
Only the letter X lacks a Minnesota town name. Two towns share the name Oslo. No surprise given Minnesota’s rich Scandinavian heritage. Oh, and Osakis is the self-proclaimed “Lefse Capital of Minnesota,” Ohman said, recommending Jacobs Lefse.
A statue of Princess Owatonna, daughter of Chief Wabena and whom after the city of Owatonna is named, stands in Mineral Springs Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2020)
Ohman asked how towns are named and got lots of audience response. The Old Country (New Ulm, New Germany, Fulda…), Native American people and language (Owatonna, Wabasha, Sleepy Eye, Wabasso), animals (Badger and Fox), geographic features (Redwood Falls, International Falls, Thief River Falls, Fergus Falls, but not Hanley Falls, which has no falls), famous (Henry Hastings Sibley) and not so famous people…
This sign once marked my hometown and its reason for notoriety. The sign was removed and replaced and I wish it was still there, along Minnesota State Highway 19. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2011)
My hometown is named after the postmaster’s daughter, Vesta. I nearly stumped Ohman when I shouted out “Vesta.” But, with some clues and thought, he remembered its location in Redwood County. He’s been to neighboring Belview, Seaforth, Wabasso. Even several audience members were familiar with southwestern Minnesota towns, something I don’t often encounter in southeastern Minnesota.
I found this small town proud t-shirt at Kelash’s Corner, a vegetable, fruit and merch stand, in Gilman, population around 220. The town is northeast of St. Cloud in Benton County. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Towns survive based on location, Ohman said. That makes sense. Towns once located along railroad tracks, later abandoned, have declined. Towns built on lumbering have dwindled in population. Towns located today in resort areas, close to larger cities or along major roadways (like Owatonna on Interstate 35) are growing, thriving. The smallest of Minnesota’s 905 towns, according to Ohman, is Funkley, population five. That’s northeast of Blackduck which is northeast of Bemidji in Beltrami County. I love how that name, Funkley, rolls off the tongue.
I won this pack of photo cards for correctly answering so many questions throughout Ohman’s presentation. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Plenty of answers rolled off my tongue Monday evening in Owatonna as Ohman asked endless questions during his Minnesota town themed game show. Who knows the county in which Ivanhoe, named after the book by Sir Walter Scott, is located? “Lincoln,” I shouted. I revealed my book smarts a second time by naming the fictional town in Sinclair Lewis’ novel, Main Street. That would be Gopher Prairie, really Lewis’ hometown of Sauk Centre. That earned me a prize—a pack of feline photo cards by Ohman.
This mural in Walnut Grove shows how past and present connect, from early settlers to present day Hmong immigrants who now call this small town home. A niece, who lives with her family in Walnut Grove, recently told me how happy she is that her children are growing up in a diverse community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I could write a whole lot more about all the towns and related information Ohman covered in his talk. But that’s his job, while mine is to highlight a few here. And also to reveal that I did incredibly well on the Ohman game show. I’ll close with one more important revelation. His favorite town name, Ohman shared, is Faith…because it takes a little faith to live (and survive) in Minnesota.
First up upon arriving in Wabasso for my 50th class reunion, a photo with the roadside white rabbit sculpture. (Photo credit: Randy Helbling)
WE MAY NEVER PASS this way again. Ah, but we have. On a recent Saturday, I gathered with some 30 of my Wabasso High School classmates to celebrate our 50th class reunion. In Wabasso, a small farming community 45 miles west of New Ulm on the southwestern Minnesota prairie.
The front entrance to Wabasso Public Schools. The overhang with pillars was added after my days there. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
The cover of my WHS yearbook. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Signage at the front of the school blends the old and the new. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
I’ve attended many reunions through the decades since 89 of us graduated in May of 1974. I’ve enjoyed every gathering, especially those in latter years when no one cared any more about who was a jock or an academic achiever or a wild one or any label we may have carried through our high school days. Today we are simply individuals who share a history of attending school together. Learning. Having fun. Making memories.
The 1973 – 1974 Wabasso High School FFA chapter consisted of mostly male students. I am among the few females featured in this photo. I’m seated in the second row, third girl on the right. (Photo credit: WHS yearbook)
Coming of age in the 1970s during the Vietnam War, we were a bit of a rebellious bunch testing our teachers’ patience. I was among those who wore a prisoner of war bracelet, embraced the peace symbol, wrote anti-war poetry. Mostly, though, I was quiet, studious, a rule follower. But I did blaze the way for young women at my high school by becoming the first girl to join the WHS Future Farmers of America Chapter. Decades later, a niece would become the state FFA president.
We were given a lengthy tour of the school. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
No one cared about any of that when we got together 50 years later, first touring the halls of our former school. Home of the Rabbits. Yes, Rabbits. Wabasso, meaning “white rabbit,” comes from the Dakota language. I’m proud of our school mascot, which is unique and connects to the history of the region. It honors the town name and the Dakota people who were the original inhabitants of this land and still live in the nearby Upper and Lower Sioux Indian communities.
This Rabbit mosaic once hung on the side of the front office counter. It now hangs in a school hallway. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
The original Rabbit mascot on a gym wall. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Rabbit pride showcased in the gym. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
As the superintendent of schools led us through the school, I found myself drawn to the many artistic renditions of Thumper, our rabbit mascot. I don’t care for the updated, fierce version that now graces a wall in the new gymnasium. It’s not that I oppose change. I just don’t like the mean look on the rabbit’s face, his appearance of being on steroids. No thank you. I much prefer the old rabbit, the one that appears gentle and friendly. Thankfully, plenty of the original Thumpers remain in a school building I barely recognize.
Oversized photos, including this one of the 1973 homecoming court, are displayed in a hallway of images. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Building additions, removal of the storied stack, shuffling and changing of classrooms altered the school significantly. The home economics room is now the art room. The shop a classroom. The cafeteria is new, spacious, bright and beautiful. And the new library, although much brighter and modern in appearance, holds far fewer books than the library of my high school years, something several of us noticed and mentioned to the superintendent.
The Roadhouse Bar & Grill sits on a corner along Wabasso’s main street. It’s an especially popular summertime spot with weekly roll-ins. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
The reunion committee set up this mannequin wearing a Class of 1974 graduation gown. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
This shows just a part of Meadowland Farmers Cooperative, which anchors the business community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
What I did notice, too, was a closeness I felt among classmates as we walked hallways and classrooms and even the old locker rooms. That feeling remained after the tour, down at the Roadhouse Bar & Grill. There we perused photos and memorabilia. Hugged. Laughed. Mourned the loss of 15 classmates. Built burgers at the burger bar. Gathered outside for a group photo. Clustered around patio tables for conversation as the sun set, brushing the sky in a subtle pink hue. All the while the ventilation fans from the grain bins across the street roared in a steady din.
Wabasso’s school song, printed on a gym wall. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
“We May Never Pass This Way Again.” That titled the Seals & Croft tune we chose as our class song. It was our second choice. The administration nixed “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road.” There was no mention of skunks—at least that I heard—at our 50th reunion. But Rabbits, oh, yes, Rabbits. We are forever and always Rabbit proud.
A wagonload of oats awaits threshing at the Rice County Steam & Gas Engines Fall Show. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
MEMORIES. A HISTORY LESSON. A step back in time. The Rice County Steam & Gas Engines Fall Show is that and more. It’s also entertainment, a coming together of friends and families and neighbors. A reason to focus on farming of yesteryear.
Oats drape over the edge of the wagon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
I was among the crowds gathered over the Labor Day weekend at the showgrounds south of Dundas. This show features demos, rows and rows and rows of vintage tractors and aged farm machinery, a tractor pull, flea market, music, petting zoo, mini train rides and a whole lot more.
The scene is set to resume threshing with thresher, tractor, baler and manpower. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
For me, a highlight was watching a crew of men threshing oats. The work is hard, labor intensive, even dangerous with exposed belts and pullies. It’s no wonder farmers lost digits and limbs back in the day.
This part of the threshing crew pitches oats bundles into the threshing machine. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
While my observations are not connected to memories, my husband’s are as he recalls threshing on his childhood farm in rural Buckman, Morrison County, Minnesota. After Randy moved with his family from rural St. Anthony, North Dakota (southwest of Mandan), his dad returned to threshing oats. In North Dakota, he used a combine. But his father before him, Randy’s grandfather Alfred, threshed small grains.
Hard at work forking bundles into the thresher. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Lots of exposed pullies and belts line the threshing machine. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
The workhorse of the operation, the threshing machine. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
As I watched in Dundas, men forked bundles of oats into a McCormick-Deering thresher. The threshing machine separated the grain from the stalk, the oats shooting one direction into a wagon, the straw the other way into a growing pile. I stood mostly clear of the threshing operation with dust and chafe thick in the air.
Feeding the loose straw into the baler. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
From the straw pile, a volunteer stuffed the stalks into the shoot of an aged baler. An arm tamped the straw, feeding it into the baler. Another guy stood nearby, feeding wire into the baler to wrap the rectangular bales. A slow, tedious process that requires attentiveness and caution.
Watching and waiting for the straw to compact in the baler. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
The entire time I watched, I thought how easy it would be to lose focus, to look away for a moment, to get distracted and then, in an instant, to experience the unthinkable. Farming is, and always has been, a dangerous occupation.
Carefully guiding wire into the baler to wrap each bale. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Randy understands that firsthand as he witnessed his father get his hand caught in a corn chopper. Tom lost his left hand and part of his forearm. But Randy saved his life, running across fields and pasture to summon help. It is a traumatic memory he still carries with him 57 years later.
Threshing at Sunnybrook Farm, St. Anthony, North Dakota, as painted by Tom Helbling. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
But memories of threshing are good memories, preserved today in an oil painting from the farm in North Dakota, Sunnybrook Farm. My father-in-law took up painting later in life. Among the art he created was a circa 1920s threshing scene. We have that painting, currently displayed in our living room. I treasure it not only for the hands that painted it, but also for the history held in each brush stroke.
Threshing grain, living history in 2024. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
The painted scene differs some from the threshing scene I saw in Dundas. In North Dakota, horses were part of the work team, the tractor steam powered. In Dundas, there were no horses, no steam engine at the threshing site. Still, the threshing machine is the star, performing the same work. And men are still there, laboring under the sun on a late summer afternoon.
Peaches fill a box and now my fridge. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
PEACHES PACK my refrigerator. Several ripen in a brown paper bag on the kitchen counter. Big, beautiful Colorado peaches.
Signs directed people into the peach pick up spot in the basement. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Earlier this week, Randy and I picked up a 20-pound case of peaches in the basement of First English Lutheran Church. That’s a lot of peaches—around 40—for two people to eat. But I love peaches. And we’ll share some with our eldest daughter and her family.
People wait in line for their peaches at First English Lutheran Church. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
A steady stream of people flowed into the cold church basement late Tuesday afternoon for their pre-ordered peaches, sold as a fundraiser by the youth group. We paid $37 for our full box. That’s $1.85/pound. I have no idea if that’s a “good” price. It doesn’t matter. I prefer peaches shipped directly from the grower. I also like supporting local church youth, because I was once that mom of kids raising monies for mission trips and youth gatherings.
Peaches no longer come in wooden crates, but in cardboard boxes. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Peaches, though, mean more to me than simply supporting a good cause and eating one of my favorite fruits. Peaches take me back to summer on the farm, into the kitchen. There my mom pried open a wooden crate of peaches wrapped in pinkish tissue paper (saved for later use in the outhouse). Then she dropped the peaches into a large kettle of boiling water to remove the skins. Next, she halved or sliced the peaches into Mason and Ball quart jars. Topped with lids and ringed, the jars went into the pressure cooker. Once removed, the jars cooled and sealed. Then we carried the jars to the cellar.
Beautiful (and delicious) Colorado peaches sold at First English. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
I admire farm women like my mom who labored to preserve fruits and vegetables to feed their families during the winter months ahead. And winters on the prairie were long and harsh. Many a cold, snowy evening, Mom would pull open the kitchen floor trap door and send me down the open wooden steps into the depths of the dank, dark, dirt-floored cellar lit by a single light bulb. There I selected a quart jar from the wooden shelves. Whatever fruit Mom wanted. Pears, cherries, plums, apples, peaches. The preserved fruit would complete our meal of meat, boiled potatoes with gravy, a side vegetable (pulled from the freezer) and homemade bread.
We ate well. Good food without preservatives. Beef from our cattle. Vegetables from our garden. Apples from local trees. And then all those fruits, purchased in crates and preserved. No additives. Just simple, good food.
Fruit-themed banners add a festive flair to peach pick up. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
I always thought I would follow my mom’s example of planting a big garden and preserving food. But I never did. I live on a mostly shady lot in town. I raised only three children, not six like her. I have easy access to multiple grocery stores, unlike her. Fresh fruit is readily available. I prefer fresh. And, if I’m really honest with myself, I never wanted to labor in the kitchen for hours during the hot summer putting up fruits and vegetables.
Carts were ready for volunteers to wheel peach cases to vehicles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2024)
Still, I buy that case of peaches from First English. All those peaches, minus the tissue paper wrappings reused in the outhouse. In many ways, I am honoring my mom, hardworking farm woman of the Minnesota prairie. As I pull ripened peaches from a brown paper bag to slice into my morning oatmeal, to eat with a meal or to incorporate into a crisp, pie or galette, I think of Mom. She, who showed her love for family not in words or hugs, but rather in rows and rows of quart jars filled with fruit. Jars shelved on planks in the dank, dark depths of the dirt-floored cellar.
A view of Kenyon’s downtown business district along Minnesota State Highway 60 which runs through the heart of this southern Minnesota community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
EVERY SMALL TOWN I’ve ever visited, and I’ve been to a lot, has unique, identifying qualities that make it memorable. In Ellendale, it’s the old-fashioned grocery store and meat market. In Montgomery, it’s the veterans’ photos displayed downtown, the bakery, the arts and heritage center, the murals and vintage signage. And in Kenyon, it’s the roses growing along the boulevard, the signs, the thrift shops and more.
One of two fabulous thrift shops in Kenyon, the other SIFT Thrift Store. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Among the many tree shrub roses blooming in the Boulevard of Roses along Highway 60 through Kenyon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
I peered inside Nygaard Garage to see a car on a hoist. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
There’s so much to see in these rural communities, if only we stop, exit our vehicles and walk. We miss a lot when we simply wheel by. I encourage you, next time you drive into an Ellendale, a Montgomery, a Kenyon, to explore. On foot.
Kenyon Meats draws attention with humorous signage. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
A note in a storefront window. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
I spotted several signs noting eggs for sale and support for the local school. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
I did that recently in Kenyon, starting at Kenyon Meats, working my way through the several-block downtown business district. I moved at a slow pace, zooming in on details. Like handwritten notes posted in windows, business signs, community notices. Those show the nuances of place. I chatted with a barber and a restaurateur.
I saw two barbershops located across the street from one another, one with a laundromat in the back. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
The laundromat behind Dick’s Barber Shop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Colorful flags mark the permanent location of the food truck Che Che’s Lunchera on the corner of Highway 60 by the former BP station. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Kenyon, with a population of just under 2,000, impresses me with its variety of businesses. Meat market, barbershops, floral and gift shop, jewelry store, two thrift shops, grocery store, repair shops/garages, insurance agencies, hardware store, municipal liquor store, restaurants, newspaper office, vet clinic, sign shop, bus service and more. Even a food truck parked on the corner of busy Minnesota State Highway 60. And that’s mostly in the core downtown area.
A sign posted downtown for this Saturday’s car and truck show. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Held Bus Service is located right downtown Kenyon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Next time I stop in Kenyon, I need to eat at Angie’s Restaurant. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
This week, Kenyon, like so many small towns, hosts a community celebration that is all about bringing people together. Rose Fest runs August 14-18 with a parade, car and truck show, vendor and craft market, city-wide garage sales, a regatta at the pool, BINGO, fire department water fights, tractor pull, magic show, music, food, food and more food… A true community celebration in every sense of a small town summer event that requires a great deal of planning and enthusiastic volunteers.
Walking the dog in downtown Kenyon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Among the many roses blooming in Kenyon’s Boulevard of Roses. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
One of my favorite finds in Kenyon, this Fox’s Garage signage. This building once housed the Martin Fox Garage. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
At the heart of everything are the people—those who grew up here or moved from elsewhere to settle into this place—who call Kenyon home. Theirs is a community worthy of our pause. Stop. Walk. Smell the roses. Appreciate all that this small town offers. Just like so many other rural Minnesota communities.
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NOTE: Watch for more posts from Kenyon as I have many more photos showcasing this southern Minnesota community.
A farm site west of New Ulm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
WOULD YOU PICK rock, walk beans, clean up pig or cow muck? Joe and his crew will.
I can, too, as I’m experienced. But I have no desire to return to those farm tasks that are now only long ago youthful memories.
The sign I spotted in a Redwood Falls convenience store. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2024)
Recently, I saw a sign, more like a note, posted by Joe on a convenience store bulletin board in Redwood Falls, deep in the heart of southwestern Minnesota farm country. I grew up in that area, on a crop and dairy farm.
Rocks picked and piled at field’s edge. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2014)
Like Joe, I worked the land and labored in the barn. I picked rock, which is exactly as it sounds—walking fields to pick rocks from the soil and toss them onto a wagon or loader. Rock removal is necessary so farm equipment isn’t damaged during crop prep, planting and harvesting. It’s hard, dirty work when done by hand.
Likewise, walking beans is hard, dirty, hot work. That job involves walking down rows of soybeans to remove weeds and stray corn plants, either by hand or by hoe. At least that’s how I walked beans back in the day. Today that may involve spot spraying herbicides.
A tasseling Rice County corn field. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
And when I worked corn fields, it was to detassel corn for the Dekalb seed company. I arose early, boarded a school bus with a bunch of other teens, arrived at a corn field and proceeded to walk the corn rows pulling tassels from corn plants. Dew ran down my arms, corn leaves sliced my skin, sweat poured off my body as the day progressed under a hot July sun. Of all the jobs I’ve had, detasseling corn rates as the most miserable, awful, horrible, labor intense work I’ve ever done.
Inside a Rice County dairy barn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)
I’d rather shovel cow manure. And I did plenty of that along with other animal-related farm chores.
If Joe and his team are willing to take on tasks that are labor intensive, hot and smelly, then I applaud them. We need hands-on folks who are not afraid to get their hands dirty, to break a sweat, to do those jobs that place them close to the land. Jobs many other people would not do.
An abandoned barn and silo along a backroad in the Sogn Valley of southeastern Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2021)
I don’t regret my farm work experiences. I learned the value of hard physical labor, of working together, of understanding that what I did was necessary. Certainly farming has changed, modernized in the 50 years since I left the land. Machines and computers make life easier.
But sometimes it still takes people like Joe and his crew to plant their soles on the earth, their feet in the barn, to make a farming operation work, even in 2024.
At the Kenyon Public Utilities building, signage marks the birth and bicentennial of our country from 1776-1976. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
BUILT BY THE PEOPLE FOR THE PEOPLE. I suppose in many ways that could describe the building of America. We are a nation built by the people on the principles of freedom, of democracy. That’s important to remember in the hoopla of the Fourth of July, a holiday synonymous with BBQs, parades, fireworks and a day off from work.
Spotted on a house in Kenyon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
But the founding of our country, the birth of a nation, is at the core of our July Fourth celebration. Or at least it should be.
A stunning house along Red Wing Avenue showcases beautiful landscaping and the red-white-and-blue. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
On recent day trips to several small towns in southern Minnesota, I noticed the red-white-and-blue on full display. Visual reminders that loyalty to country and liberty are still cherished.
A flag flies at Kenyon’s hardware store. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
I appreciate when people, businesses, governments showcase the colors of this country in ways that honor and respect the integrity of America. Not to make a political statement.
Patriotism in carved eagles and an American flag in a Kenyon neighborhood. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
In Kenyon, a rural community of just under 2,000 in Goodhue County, I found an array of red-white-and-blue. From Main Street to residential neighborhoods, locals have infused the colors of our country into the landscape.
Allan and Connie Turner have lots of kitschy handcrafted art in their yard at the corner of Red Wing Avenue and Eighth Street next to the Kenyon water tower. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2024)
American made sold at All Seasons Thrift Store. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Patriotic bags for sale in the thrift shop. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Flags fly. Kitschy yard art celebrates the Fourth. Even inside a thrift store, American pride shows.
An American and MIA flag fly at the Kenyon Post Office. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
An American flag is barely visible to the right as a sprayer passes Kenyon’s veterans’ memorial. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
A patriotic barn and porch quilt, available at D & S Banner, Sign & Print. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
This is America. From small town to big city. From coast-to-coast. No matter where we live in this big wide country, we are, today, one nation celebrating the birth of our nation.
One of several flag decals in the windows of the VFW. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Happy birthday, America! And happy Fourth of July, dear readers!
American pride displayed at a brewery in Montgomery, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
A flag flies from the popular Franke’s Bakery in downtown Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
How often have you sung those words, heard those lyrics, considered the meaning of our national anthem? Perhaps, after time, the words have become simply rote, voiced without much thought of their meaning.
A flag rock in a flower garden at Most Holy Redeemer Catholic School. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Our nation’s birthday seems a good time to ponder the depth of bravery required to attain and maintain our freedom. It’s come at great cost with loss of life and physical, mental and emotional trauma. And, at times, with events that have rocked the very core of our democracy.
A flag flies near The Monty Bar, a mammoth building anchoring a corner. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Through everything, our flag still waves—sometimes tattered, torn and abused—but still there. A symbol of our country and the freedoms we live.
Patriotic art on Legion Post 79 is part of The Montgomery Wings Mural Walk. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
It always amazes me how small towns, especially, fly so many American flags. Take Montgomery, a southern Minnesota community that honors its veterans with photos and bios of them posted throughout the downtown area. Montgomery also flies a lot of U.S. flags.
To the far right in this photo, an oversized flag flies along Main Street Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Those flags mostly grace lampposts, but also flagpoles, businesses and flower gardens. The red-white-and-blue flashes color into Main Street and elsewhere, creating a visual of patriotism. There’s something about a crisp, new American flag publicly displayed that swells the heart with love of country.
Another flag rock in a Most Holy Redeemer garden. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
My country ‘tis of Thee, sweet land of liberty of Thee I sing…let freedom ring.
A flag drapes on a pole outside The Rustic Farmer on Main, an event center and community gathering spot in Montgomery. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Let freedom ring, unsuppressed by anyone who may attempt to silence it via words, actions, ego, authority. Let freedom ring strong and loud in this land.
Even small flags like this in the storefront window of a cleaning service make an impact. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Let the flag fly as a symbol of a free people, a free country, where democracy is to be valued, cherished and respected.
Montgomery has a lot of drinking establishments and a lot of American flags. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
This Fourth of July, the 248th birthday of the United (emphasis on united) States of America, let’s remember the freedoms we have and vow to always honor them. Always.
A vintage 1969 or 1970 Chevy pickup truck parked in a car port at Twin Lakes Auto Parts in Waterville.(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
EVERY PLACE HAS CHARACTER, especially small towns. Or at least that’s how it seems to me, someone with an affinity for rural. I am not a big city girl, preferring quiet Main Streets to city traffic, low-slung buildings to soaring skyscrapers, small gatherings to crowds. I feel grounded, rooted, at home in rural locations.
One of Waterville’s most unusual homes, a small house sandwiched between businesses along Main Street. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
For me a day trip to explore small towns is as appealing as a day in the big city for someone who prefers cities. We are all different and that is a good thing.
A ghost sign on a downtown building. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Recently I toured seven area communities in a single day while working on a photo essay column for SouthernMinn Scene, a regional arts and entertainment magazine. I found myself photographing scenes well beyond the scope of my themed essay focusing on small town bar exteriors and signage. With camera in hand, I always scan for interesting photo ops.
Vintage bullhead art signage hangs on the Waterville Event Center. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Among my stops was Waterville, in the southern Minnesota lakes region of Le Sueur County. Summertime residents and visitors plus bikers pedaling the Sakatah Singing Hill State Trail swell this town’s population well beyond 1,868. Waterville folks definitely recognize the value these people bring to the local economy, to the community.
Unexpected art on the side of the Corner Bar. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
I realize not everyone sees what I see upon walking through a small town business district like that in Waterville. I tend to notice details, oddities, the small things that make a place interesting. I’ve photographed the heart of Waterville several times, so this trip I mostly zeroed in on different details.
I see this often in small towns, specific notes left for delivery drivers. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
I should note that I’m particularly drawn to signage—handwritten to business signs.
Classic’s Pub opens soon in this massive building. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Waterville will soon be home to two new businesses, as noted on signage. Classic’s Pub, a bar and event center featuring displays of vintage cars and motorcycles, is opening in a spacious corner building along South 3rd Street. Waterville has several other bars. But I’m excited about this one (not that I’ve been in the others) because of its vintage theme.
Another business opening soon in Waterville. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
And just across the street, a sign notes that The Cleaver & Corn is opening soon, serving sandwiches, gourmet specialty popcorn from the local The Snack Shack, sweets and more. That, too, sounds like a great addition to the community. And the business name…I find it particularly creative.
A customer pulled up to the hardware store on his riding lawnmower. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
As I walked about the downtown, I saw a whole lot of character. In buildings. In signage. In storefronts. Even in a John Deere riding lawnmower driven to and parked outside Harry’s True Value Hardware.
Waterville Hardware Hank, just across from True Value. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Just across the street sits Waterville Hardware Hank, offering a second option to locals, cabin owners and campers. I’ve been inside this store with its narrow aisles and original wood floors. Not this trip, though.
Lots happening at the Corner Bar in June. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
Rather, I kept my feet on the sidewalk and pavement, opting to photograph downtown Waterville while outdoors only. That focused perspective revealed plenty of character that makes this small town unique, welcoming, a place I always enjoy visiting.
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