Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

A Sunday afternoon drive to Waterville, Minnesota, Bullhead Capital of the World September 12, 2012

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Main Street Waterville, Minnesota, on a Sunday afternoon in September.

THE THING ABOUT SMALL TOWNS is this. They’re not boring cookie cutter places with chain stores and look-alike subdivision houses occupying space in the middle of nowhere. I know, I know, you likely disagree about that “boring and middle of nowhere” if you live in a sizable city.

But these small towns possess individuality and character. And by small town, I mean a community of 5,000 or fewer residents. Just want to be clear on the definition.

Exploring small towns is something I enjoy, probably because I grew up on a dairy and crop farm near Vesta, current population around 330 or so, among the corn and soybean fields of southwestern Minnesota.

I’m intrigued by these communities which are most often ignored as simply, sigh, another place to slow us down as we rush from one destination to the next. I’m as guilty as the next traveler in feeling that way.

But sometimes I intentionally slow down. In recent years my husband and I have embraced Sunday afternoon drives, not unlike the Sunday drives of my youth. Dad would guide the family car along the washboard gravel roads of Redwood County, sometimes venturing into neighboring Yellow Medicine County, so we could look at the crops.

While Randy and I sometimes take gravel roads, our ultimate destination is typically Main Street.  We meander to a nearby small town, park our vehicle, get out and walk. It is then that we discover the quirks, the character, the feeling of community and closeness which define a given town.

Our most recent Sunday jaunt took us to Waterville, only 15 miles from Faribault. I’ve been into this lakeside town of nearly 1,900 perhaps half a dozen times, just to drive through it, tour Ron’s Hardware (a story in itself, but it was closed the Sunday we were there), enjoy an ice cream treat and, many years ago, to grab a burger and beer at the Corner Bar.

Mostly, though, Waterville has been a town my family zips past along Minnesota Highway 60 en route west. By doing that, I’ve missed out, missed out on the defining details. And the easiest way to notice those details, when Main Street businesses are mostly closed on a Sunday, is to check out the signage.

Welcome to Waterville, Minnesota, Bullhead Capital of the World, where signs hint at this community’s individuality and character.

CHECK BACK FOR A FUTURE post featuring one of Waterville’s newest businesses.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Meet Bob, the opinionated farmer from Madelia September 10, 2012

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I met Bob Michniewicz  and his wife, Judy, selling their woodcrafts at the recent Rice County Steam and Gas Engine Show. He wouldn’t allow me to photograph his art, except for a single sign and a single cow, not wanting others to steal his ideas. However, a few other crafts got into the photo when Bob obliged my request for a portrait.

OCCASIONALLY YOU MEET a character, and you know it just looking at the person, before lips even part to utter a single syllable.

I knew, just knew, Bob Michniewicz was a character when I saw him and his set-up at the Rice County Steam and Gas Engine Show in rural Dundas. With kitschy wooden lawn ornaments—you know the kind—and wind chimes and eye-catching messages defining his space, Bob was bound to be interesting.

Just look at the poster Bob leaned front and center against a support post for the tent under which he and his wife of 50 years, Judy, were peddling their wares.

Bob was gauging interest in this sign with plans to print it on vinyl and sell it should interest run high.

Naturally, I asked Bob about that message. Seems he’s a bit worked up about all the non-farm folks moving onto farms in his area and then complaining about noise or smell or dust and such from working farms.

“Farmers were here first,” he emphasizes. And that, in this retired farmer’s opinion, should settle any matters of dispute.

All around him, Bob views the ever-changing rural Minnesota landscape. Within a three-mile radius of his farm (the home place) 3 ½ miles from Madelia, only four farmers remain. The rest are people living on the building sites.

Therein, according to Bob, lies the problem. “People don’t know where farm stuff comes from.” I’m not sure I understand what he means, but I think I do and Bob doesn’t allow me to interrupt this rather one-sided conversation.

Bob just steamrolls forward, asking if I know that potatoes in stores are sprayed to keep them from sprouting. (I don’t know this and check later to see if Bob, who is a gardener, is right, and apparently he is, although I’m not saying all potato growers, all stores, follow this practice.)

He looks me directly in the eye and says: “Next time you eat mashed potatoes, you may as well take a shot glass of Round-up with a beer chaser.”

Like I said, Bob’s a character, and an outspoken one at that.

Bob certainly possesses a sense of humor, as seen in this bovine lawn art.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A short photo essay of a tractor parade, rural Dundas, Minnesota September 7, 2012

The Oliver was the featured tractor in this year’s Rice County Steam and Gas Engines Show, rural Dundas, Minnesota.

They start ’em driving tractors young. Not to worry; an adult was on the tractor, too.

And younger…

And as young as six weeks old. Doesn’t baby Kelly/Kelli (not sure on the spelling) look just like her dad?

Tractor buffs of all ages, and with all types of tractors, join the parade.

The parade of tractors and other vehicles just goes on and on.

Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Appreciating a vintage Dairy Queen sign in Janesville August 22, 2012

ICE CREAM. It has to be the single treat with the most universal appeal. And I expect Dairy Queen rates as the company most universally known for its soft-serve ice cream.

With 6,000 plus Dairy Queens throughout the world, this fast food franchise certainly has established itself as a dominating presence since the first DQ opened in 1940 in Joliet, Illinois.

The Dairy Queen along old U.S. Highway 14 in Janesville on a recent Sunday afternoon.

Within 40 miles of my home are 35 Dairy Queens, including two right here in Faribault, and a walk-up DQ along old U.S. Highway 14 in Janesville some 30 miles away.

On a recent Sunday afternoon while passing through Janesville, located east of Mankato and with a population of about 2,100, I photographed the DQ. I wasn’t hungry, having just eaten too much at a church potluck. But I didn’t let that keep me from stopping at the DQ to photograph this long-time business with the vintage signage.

The vintage Dairy Queen sign that drew me to the Janesville DQ.

It’s the sign that caused me to stop because, well, I like and appreciate old signs as works of art. They’re also classic, charming cultural and historic icons in a community.

I was a bit dismayed, though, when the woman working the counter suggested that once the lights fizzle on the sign, it will be replaced with a newer, more modern DQ sign because, really, who could fix the lighting?

I insisted that shouldn’t happen and may have pleaded a bit. “You can’t do that.”

But she seemed resigned to the sign’s eventual replacement.

On the bottom edge of the sign, I noticed LEROY SIGN REG.

Not so fast. I noticed LEROY SIGN REG printed along the lower edge of the DQ sign. That was just enough for me to google the company and track down the sign’s origin with Leroy Signs & Manufacturing of Brooklyn Park.

After viewing a photo I took of the Janesville sign, Ralph Leroy “Lee” Reiter III told me it dates back to the late 1940s or early 1950s and is one of about 50 made by his grandfather, Ralph Leroy Reiter, Sr. While the younger Reiter doesn’t know exactly how many of these specific signs were placed in Minnesota, he says his third-generation company recently refurbished one in Columbia Heights and he knows of one in Robbinsdale and another in Brooklyn Park.

I was especially pleased to learn that the 75-year-old family business he co-owns with siblings Kaj Reiter and Andria Reiter can replace the neon lighting and otherwise refurbish the porcelain enamel finished vintage DQ sign.

On the other side of the DQ, looking toward downtown Janesville.

Lee Reiter has high praise for the condition of the Janesville DQ sign. “It’s one of the cleanest I’ve seen and in really good condition.”

He observed, though, that the sign may have been touched up some. You could fool me. The sign as designed decades ago—DQ designed and Leroy Sign made the sign—allowed it to take in water, Lee noted.

Early on in DQ’s history, Leroy Signs made signs for DQ, last doing so about five years ago.

As for that vintage DQ sign in Janesville, Lee says if the owner ever wants to get rid of it, he’ll take it. That, in itself, should tell you something, don’t you think?

You know you’re in a rural town when you see a combine driving down the street like this John Deere which passed the Janesville DQ.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Oh, the interesting topics you’ll find in small town newspapers…of bullets, burgers & babies… August 14, 2012

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SMALL TOWN NEWSPAPERS make for some interesting reading. Stories can get downright personal and to the point.

For example, I found a gem last week online at The Redwood Falls Gazette, a twice-a-week newspaper published in Redwood County in southwestern Minnesota. It’s the newspaper I grew up reading.

The Redwood Falls Gazette editor Troy Krause, right, interviews Todd Bol, co-founder of the Little Free Library in Vesta in early July. Bol gave a LFL to my hometown and installed it at the Vesta Cafe.

In the “Backward Glance” section of the newspaper, under 1987—25 years ago, this tidbit of information was published:

In the listings of the Redwood County 4-H county fair champions, Troy Krause of the Loyal Scotties was overall grand champion in flower gardens, while Kelly Zwaschka of the Vesta Vikings won champion child development.

(Note: Troy is editor of the Redwood Gazette, while wife Kelly gave birth to their seventh child, Gideon, this week. Congrats from the Gazette staff!)

How’s that for a birth announcement? Obviously Kelly’s interest in child development, even as a 4-Her, was a clear indicator of her future. As for Todd, I believe flower gardening could be connected to creativity/writing.

You’ll also find a brief about a game warden, shot through the head in 1937 by another game warden who mistook him for a bear. That’s listed in the 50 years ago section of “Backward Glances.” So, yes, apparently Merle Shields survived the incident as he was celebrating his 20th year as a Redwood County game warden in 1962. (BTW, since writing this post, I discovered that The Gazette has upgraded its website and the “Backward Glance” I reference here cannot be found, or I couldn’t find it.)

The third piece of interest was published in last week’s The Gaylord Hub, where I worked for two years as a news reporter and photographer right out of college. Avery Grochow, past president of The Gaylord Chamber of Commerce, penned a letter to the editor which I am certain is the current coffee shop talk of Gaylord.

I’ll summarize parts of his lengthy, six-paragraph letter and quote directly when needed. Grochow begins:

We, as the chamber board, are constantly trying to do our best for our community and are constantly being criticized by some for our decisions.

Apparently locals were grumbling about the food—who supplied it and how it tasted—at the community’s annual Eggstravaganza summer festival. New volunteers, replaced Dewey (whoever that is; my words here, not Avery’s), who “wanted a year off from all the arguments.” They stepped up and worked through a new bidding process for the supplies, awarding the bid to the lowest bidder.

Grochow continues:

We have had comments both ways about the supplying of hamburger. Some have criticized us in the past because the hamburger was too spicy, that they would rather have plain burgers, and we are now being criticized that we are having plain burgers and not spiced burgers.

No matter what we do as volunteers and directors for the Chamber, we can’t please everyone…We did what we thought was fair to everyone by taking bids on everything and stand by our decision.

Now, just imagine how difficult it must have been for Grochow to write this letter. Not an easy thing to do when you live in a small town like Gaylord where everyone’s lives are intertwined.

I give Grochow credit for having the guts to publicly voice his opinion in print. He doesn’t just vent, though. He offers a solution. And therein lies the point best taken by those who read his letter.

…if anyone has better ideas for us, we still are short of directors and could use all the help we can get to make our Chamber even more successful. We also have openings on the board so you can be part of the decision making, instead of just always making bad comments because you don’t like what we did. Remember, we, as the Chamber Board of Directors, are just volunteers trying to make Gaylord a better place to live and hopefully to have a great celebration.

Those closing remarks are words we could all heed because I expect you, like me, are guilty of occasional grumbling and complaining.

 

In southern Minnesota: “An old-time mission festival out in the woods” August 7, 2012

A sign marks the mission festival site at Marquardt’s Grove where cattle gates to the pasture are opened to allow entry. That’s the dry bed of Bull Run Creek on the left.

AT 8 A.M. SUNDAY, Harold Krienke swung his truck into Marquardt’s Grove some 10 miles south of Janesville to help set up for the annual mission festival in the woods near his country church, Immanuel Lutheran.

It was then he spotted the large black cat with the long tail edging dried up Bull Run Creek some 100 feet from the site where worshipers would gather 2 ½ hours later. “It wasn’t a house cat,” Krienke laughs. The cat—perhaps a panther, some speculate—didn’t scare him; it had been seen previously in the area.

Krienke’s animal encounter certainly wasn’t the first, and won’t be the last, at this mission festival held for the past 75 years in a five-acre wooded section of a 70-acre pasture where cattle still graze days before the event. Last year several head of cattle busted through an electric fence and charged across the creek toward the worship site. Another time horses caused a bit of trouble. No harm done, though, as the wayward animals were chased away.

Len Marquardt, who owns the woodlot and pasture, previously owned by his father, Alfred, and Alfred’s father, Gustav, before him, takes it all in stride. A few wandering animals won’t stop him from continuing the tradition of three generations of his family hosting the long-time festival of Freedom Church, as it is commonly known (referencing its location in Freedom Township), and the past two years in conjunction with Trinity Lutheran Church, Wilton Township, also known as the Wilton Church.

An overview of the worship site with the Freedom Band seated on the stage and the audience seated on plank benches and lawn chairs on the hillside. Freedom and Trinity Pastor Glenn Korb is standing at the makeshift altar.

Len’s heart and soul are committed to what he defines as “an old-time mission festival out in the woods.”

That definition seems apt for this event which, many Freedom members estimate, has been ongoing for a century. In the early days, area farmers took turns hosting the annual summer mission festival. The outdoor worship service has always been held around the same time of year, initially chosen, Len says, because the wheat harvest would have just been completed and farmers would have had more money to donate to the church.

Offerings are collected in ice cream buckets at the mission festival.

Money, though, has never been the focus of the festival although a collection is taken. Rather, the purpose is to “help people to focus on missions,” says Len, who several years ago accompanied his daughter, Julie, and others on a mission trip to Nicaragua. It changed him and he now takes personally the words “Here am I, send me” from the hymn “Hark! the Voice of Jesus Crying.” Julie, now a third-year student at Concordia University in Seward, Nebraska, followed up with a mission trip to Hong Kong and is now considering a career as a missionary.

“I think we need to be a church in mission,” Len says as he explains the purpose of the mission fest on his family’s property. The natural setting of farm fields, open pasture and woods, with a cool breeze stirring oak leaves and raising goosebumps on Sunday morning, connected worshipers to the message delivered by the Rev. Dr. Robert Holst, retired president of Concordia University, St. Paul, and a former missionary to Papua, New Guinea.

The Rev. Dr. Robert Holst delivered a message on missions and afterward answered questions about his missionary service in New Guinea. Len Marquardt says the congregation has never had trouble finding a guest pastor as they savor participating in an “old-time mission festival out in the woods.”

As Rev. Holst spoke of his experiences in his sermon, “Global Missions: International Love,” worshipers, sitting among the trees, could easily imagine the primitive ways of the New Guinea people, their belief in spirits, their sacrifice of pigs, their mistrust and misunderstandings and lack of knowledge about God and the challenges the pastor faced in telling them about Christ.

Foreign missions seemed as close as a thought away for attendees like Jeanette Schoenfeld of Wilton Church who enjoys the mission fest because, she says, “It’s like they do in Africa,” worshiping outdoors.

Baby Jaci sits with her dad, Mike, and brother, Bales, during the worship service.

Len Marquardt and others, including his sister, Sally Hodge, appreciate, too, the traditions they are passing from family to family through generations of mission festivals. As Sally samples a vinegary, potato-green bean dish prepared for the mission fest potluck, she glances back to kids racing up the wooded hillside. “I remember tromping up the hills, tromping up the trails, building wood forts…talk about history and family and pleasure in knowing each other…” Sally says as she glances across the table at friend and fellow parishioner Davin Quiram.

All ages, and several generations of families, attended the mission fest on Sunday.

Sally Hodge sings in the choir and usually plays in the band. But this year she didn’t make the practices so was unable to join the Freedom Band. She lives just up the hill from Marquardt’s Grove and grew up on the other side of “just up the hill.”

Davin, like Sally a life-long member of Freedom, concurs as the two reminisce and remember the rare treat of soda pop from the mission fest pop and candy stand, which Davin will later man. The friends don’t recall specific mission speakers or messages from their childhood days, only those racing through the woods and gulping pop memories.

Davin, though, is quick to rattle off the areas of ministry covered by mission speakers in the past 10 years: American Indians, Hispanic, college, Japanese and such.

An elderly man turns to a hymn in the old pocket-size songbook that’s been used for decades.

While guest speakers change from year to year, the music remains constant with worshipers singing hymns from the pocket-size Mission Hymns Suitable for Mission Festivals and Similar Gatherings (out of print for 80 years).

Likewise, the Freedom Band, the church band comprised of Freedom members and others from the area and in existence for an estimated 80 years, uses the same familiar music books such as The Church Band Book—Choral Melodies of the Lutheran church for Military Band by A. Grimm, published in 1919 by Antigo Publishing Co., and a handwritten book of music transposed from a hymnal for the band.

The Freedom Band and some of its handwritten music.

The Freedom Band has always played at the mission fest and other area mission events in years gone by. At any time, 5 – 7 members of Sally’s family, the Marquardts, may be playing in the band—all on the trumpet but for one on the sax.

Gemma Lin returned to the mission fest, one year after her baptism there in 2011.

Part of mission fest also includes the occasional outdoor baptism. Sally’s father, Alfred, born in 1911, was baptized at the Freedom Mission Festival. Last year, a century later, two-month-old Gemma Lin of Mankato was baptized in Marquardt’s Grove and her great uncle was baptized the night before at Freedom Church. Aleta Lin, Gemma’s mom, treasures her daughter’s unique baptism and the story of that baptism which will always be a part of family history. She hopes Gemma will, through the years, continue to attend mission fest, a life-long tradition for Aleta, a life-long member of Freedom Church.

A bible lies on the floor of the stage where the band played and the preachers preached.

For those outside of Freedom, memories of past mission fests also come quickly. Such festivals were once a staple among rural congregations as a time to worship God in the outdoors, to socialize afterward at a potluck dinner and even meet future spouses.

Worshipers line up for a potluck dinner after the worship service.

Guest pastor Holst opened his message by reminiscing about the mission fests of his youth, recalling the washtubs full of soda pop—root beer, 7-UP and Orange Crush—set out by the youth group. He also remembered the ball games between fathers and children.

On Sunday there were no ball games or kids racing for a rare treat of pop. But plenty of kids—from babies to teens—settled onto temporary wood plank benches and lawn chairs or upon blankets or in car seats on the same ground in Marquardt’s Grove that has, for generations, served as an outdoor house of worship on one Sunday in August.

The vintage mini songbook lying on planks and the mission site in the background.

FYI: Check back for an additional post featuring mission fest photos and for a separate photo essay of Freedom Church.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

No cherry picking for me as I miss out on The Cherry Orchard Project July 18, 2012

The Cherry Orchard Project promo photo.

I TRIED LAST WEEK to get two tickets to a production of Anton Chekov’s “The Cherry Orchard” in the historic Gunderson House in neighboring Kenyon. But, alas, I could not secure a pair for a weekend performance, much to my dismay.

If only I’d known prior to last Thursday about the unique, touring theatrical group which is sweeping into historic homes in five southern Minnesota communities this summer. I embrace the concept of professional actors from the Guthrie, Ten Thousand Things, the Jungle Theatre and Theatre de la Jeue Lune performing in rural Minnesota, because, frankly, I’m not one to venture into The Cities for theater, or much of anything. Just being honest here. The metro traffic and general busyness simply don’t suit me.

The Cherry Orchard Project, which presents Chekov’s play of an aristocratic Russian family about to lose their home and cherry orchard through foreclosure, seems an ideal way to extend performance art to Minnesotans like me. It also gives outstate actors/actresses an opportunity to work with pros. Each site-based production includes local performers working with those professionals.

This type of theater, staged in an historic home, presents an intimate venue for both performers and audience members, which also appeals to me.

Here’s a description of The Cherry Orchard Project from Brown Paper Tickets, the online ticket source for The Cherry Orchard Project:

Audiences move in and around the house to the strains of local musicians, experiencing the characters cooking, dancing, debating and attempting to indulge in their unrequited passions. It’s a rare opportunity to step inside the world of Chekhov’s eccentric and comedic characters, living the drama with them.

Now if that sounds like the type of close-up theater you might enjoy, consider purchasing your tickets immediately for an upcoming performance in one of the following communities:

Little Falls at the 1898 Musser Mansion, July 18 – 22
Taylors Falls at The Historic Folsom House, July 25 – 29
Worthington at the Historic Dayton House, August 1 – 5
Blue Earth, James B. Wakefield House, August 8 – 12, audience limit of 25

Do not wait until the last minute, like I did (because I was unaware), or you will not get tickets. Audiences at the performances I wanted to attend in Kenyon were limited to 30 – 40.

And, if your local community newspaper runs an online poll with this question, “Would you like to see more live local theater in our small towns?”, I hope you will respond favorably, unlike many who answered that exact question posed by The Kenyon Leader.

According to results posted on Tuesday afternoon, 57 percent of the 35 respondents to The Leader survey said they have little interest in live theater. Thirty-four percent said they would watch live local theater in small towns. The rest, nine percent, were interested in attending and/or participating.

Those poll results disappoint me. But then I suppose I can’t make anyone appreciate theater anymore than anyone can make me value sports. Plus, given the low survey response rate, I would question whether the results accurately reflect the overall consensus of Kenyon residents. The Cherry Orchard Project Facebook page reports a sell-out crowd and warm reception in Kenyon.

If only I’d been among those in the audience. Perhaps next year…

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Gravel road on the prairie July 9, 2012

A gravel road just north of Lamberton in southwestern Minnesota.

WHAT IS IT ABOUT a gravel road?

A picturesque farm site on a sultry summer evening as seen from a gravel road north of Lamberton.

It is poetry and peace, country and charm.

You can almost hear the crunch of the gravel in this image.

But it is more. It is small stones crunching under tires and feet as dust rises and lingers, marking the trail traveled.

As the sun sets on the prairie, a truck travels along a gravel road up to a paved roadway north of Lamberton.

It is a marker of townships, the route of massive yellow road graders blading the road surface to a flat finish or heaving snow toward ditches.

It is memories of bumpy school bus rides and squishing into the back seat of the family car between brothers and sisters.

It is Dad’s admonition to always, always, move to the right when cresting a hill.

Utility lines along the same gravel road stretch into forever.

It is the memory of pinpoint stars dotting the pitch black darkness of a prairie night and the sweet scents of wild roses (once) rambling in ditches and of freshly-mown alfalfa and of hay baled and stacked onto a swaying wagon.

A gravel road is all of these to me, and yet, in its most basic definition, it serves as a way to get from point A to point B, and marks borders between town and country.

Standing on the gravel road, I turned south to photograph the cornfield and Lamberton in the distance.

It is a line in a plat book, a route connecting paved roads, a path to a rural home.

It is a gravel road on the prairie.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Minnesota Museums Month: The Minnesota Machinery Museum, on the prairie May 1, 2012

THINK OF MUSEUMS in Minnesota, and what pops into your mind?

Probably the Science Museum of Minnesota or the Minnesota Children’s Museum or the SPAM Museum in Austin or any other such notable museum.

During May, “Minnesota Museums Month,” I challenge you to think beyond the obvious to those small town museums that are tucked away in nondescript buildings or along back roads or are mostly unknown except to those living within a region.

The Minnesota Machinery Museum in a 1939 WPA school building in Hanley Falls.

That leads me directly to Hanley Falls, home of the Minnesota Machinery Museum.

I expect already most of you are asking, “Where the heck is Hanley Falls?”

Hanley Falls, a small farming community, sits along State Highway 23 in southeastern Yellow Medicine County, nine miles south of Granite Falls on the southwestern Minnesota prairie.

It is one of those “blink and you miss it” type towns all too often dismissed by travelers simply flying by on the highway. Let me tell you, Hanley Falls is worth several hours of your time to tour this rural life museum which opened as the Yellow Medicine County Agricultural and Transportation Museum in 1980 and in 1994 became the Minnesota Machinery Museum.

For anyone who appreciates our state’s rich agricultural heritage, this museum rates as a must-see in the heart of our state’s richest farmland. I grew up in this strong agricultural region, in Redwood County next door to the east, and toured the museum for the first time in 2009. Yes, even I was unaware of its presence, having left the prairie in 1974 for college and subsequent employment.

You'll see plenty of old tractors and farm machinery, along with vintage cars and trucks.

The Minnesota Machinery Museum, which is somewhat of a misleading name because it’s not all about farm machinery, reconnected me to my rural roots and educated me on the area’s agricultural history. During my 2009 visit, I learned that visitors will discover “the things you would find on a typical farm before the 1950s” with thousands of artifacts primarily from surrounding communities in a several-county area.

An old-style farm kitchen on the second floor of the museum.

All of those artifacts are housed in five buildings, including a sprawling two-story 1939 Works Project Administration school, on six acres. The first floor of that former school, during my visit, was packed with mostly farm-related equipment while the second floor housed the domestic side of rural life.

A vintage embroidered dish towel and old wash tubs, both familiar to me. My mother used a wringer washer with wash tubs during the early years of my life on a southwestern Minnesota dairy and crop farm.

It is the mission of the museum, according to its website, “to recapture a century of stories about farm life. Implements, tools, tractors and gas engines in mint condition along with rural art help you look back to an era when neighbors worked together to harvest their crops, raise barns and build a better life for their families.”

Read those words again. They are the essence of this place—the feeling of community, the sense of neighborliness, the embodiment of that which defined rural life at one time. Yes, that life has changed. Neighbors don’t always know neighbors. Oversized farm machinery has, for the most part, replaced the need for neighbors to work together. Barns are falling into heaps of rotting wood. This museum preserves a way of life that exists mostly in stories now.

This bushel basket in the museum brought back memories of feeding cows.

The Minnesota Machinery Museum is as impressive as any you’ll visit in Minnesota. Take time to seek it out, to turn off the highway into Hanley Falls rather than driving by without even a thought of the historical treasure that lies within this small southwestern Minnesota prairie community.

FYI: The Minnesota Machinery Museum is open May – September from 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. Monday – Saturday and from 1 p.m. – 4:30 p.m. on Sunday and is closed on holidays. Click here for more information about the museum.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Dispelling a Mayberry myth in rural Minnesota December 16, 2011

Man in custody after shooting in Gaylord

Two men arrested after incident with police officers in Winthrop

Three years since rural Green Isle homicide

These disturbing headlines all published recently in a single issue of a 10-page small-town Minnesota weekly newspaper.

How life has changed in the 31 years since I pounded out news articles there, for The Gaylord Hub, on a vintage manual typewriter. The biggest news stories during my 1978 – 1980 tenure as a reporter were fires and motor vehicle crashes and the controversy over the expansion of local chicken barns.

I didn’t write about eight bullets fired into a Gaylord home in an alleged gang-related shooting or a scuffle between police and a suspect or a three-year unsolved homicide.

And I didn’t have to report on a courthouse shootings like the one which occurred Thursday in quiet Grand Marais, an artsy get-away destination along the shores of Lake Superior.

Thirty years ago, small towns were still relatively untouched by violent, drug-related or other crime. Not so anymore. One need only pick up any weekly newspaper to read about major crimes that rock even the most rural regions.

Just this week in Redwood County in rural southwestern Minnesota, warrants were issued for 31 individuals on felony drug charges following a year-long, five-county investigation, according to information published in The Redwood Falls Gazette. Most suspects have been arrested and charged.

That’s my home county you’re talking about here, a place of small towns, grain elevators, farm sites, and corn and soybean fields—about as rural as you can get.

This isn’t Mayberry anymore.

While I can wax nostalgic about how things “used to be,” the reality of life is this: Times have changed. People have changed. Respect for parents and authority and laws have eroded.

Crime, once considered a big-city problem, reaches deep into the most rural of locations.

It is sad.

But it is the truth.

IF YOU LIVE in a rural area, have you see increases in crime? Explain. How have you, personally, or your community been impacted? How is your community dealing with crime? Please submit a comment and share.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling