Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Appreciating mom-and-pop businesses like Mutch Hardware June 27, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:25 AM
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Buildings across the street reflect in the windows of Mutch Northside Hardware in North Mankato where these signs hang on a front plate-glass window.

“Grass Seed and Fertilizer.”

“We cut glass and plexiglass.”

I didn’t need grass seed or fertilizer or any glass cut. Yet, the signage drew me to the storefront plate-glass window of the hardware store along Belgrade Avenue in North Mankato. How often do you see business signs like this with letters printed in near-perfect penmanship between two penciled ruler lines on white tagboard?

After I admired the simplicity of this advertising in a world of mass-produced, flashy, signage, I noticed the old screen door. That did it. I was smitten with this place, this Mutch Northside Hardware that, from the exterior, reminded me of the small town hardware stores of my youth.

You know, the kind of store where you can buy everything and anything. The place packed with merchandise from floor to ceiling, aisles narrow as a sidewalk crack. Nails and bolts jumbled in scarred cubbies. Belts dangling from hooks on pegboard. Wooden floors that creak.

Mutch Hardware is crammed with merchandise, some of it displayed in the window fronts.

An old ACE Hardware sign decorates the front door where a handwritten sign is posted listing store hours.

I could almost hear the vintage screen door slam shut behind me as I stood outside the closed hardware store, hands cupped around my eyes, peering inside. It was late Saturday afternoon and I was hours too late to step inside Mutch Hardware, much to my disappointment.

But that didn’t stop a flood of memories from washing over me. Memories of going to town with my dad, stopping at Joe Engel’s Hardware store on Vesta’s main street to pick up a few bolts or maybe a belt or something else for the farm.

My siblings and I had another reason for hitching a ride to the southwestern Minnesota hardware store with our dad. Joe Engel’s supplied our ammo—coiled rolls of red-perforated paper pocked with gun powder for our toy cap guns. This was the 1960s, and even though not politically-correct today, an era of playing “Cowboys and Indians.” I remember those days with a depth of fondness that I doubt today’s tech-oriented kids will ever experience.

I would like to take each of them inside a business like Mutch Hardware, where I expect helpful, personal service, care and friendliness accompany each purchase. Places like this seem rare in our fast-paced world of big box stores run by corporations in far away cities. Few mom-and-pop stores can survive in today’s economy. That is reality.

I’m not a prima donna; I shop chain stores as much as anyone. Yet when I see a business such as Mutch Northside Hardware in North Mankato, I take notice. I appreciate the hardworking men and women who, as independent business owners, still offer us a shopping option.

Outside Mutch Northside Hardware, a place reminiscent of bygone days.

DOES AN OLD-FASHIONED mom-and-pop type business like Mutch Northside Hardware exist in your community, or do you know of one somewhere? I’d like to hear. Tell me about it by submitting a comment.

This image of a section of Belgrade Avenue in North Mankato shows the following businesses, from left: Like-Nu-Cleaners, Christy's Cafe, Mutch Northside Hardware, Skillings & Associates, Dino's Gourmet Pizzeria, Craft-n-Floral Center, the U.S. Post Office, Frandsen Bank & Trust and Bobby Joe's Pub.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

These businesses have been in Faribault for how long January 7, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:55 AM
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EVER SINCE The Faribault Daily News “2010 Year in Review” special supplement published last week, I’ve been meaning to write this post.

Now, you might think that I would summarize the top 10 stories in my southeastern Minnesota community. OK, I will tell you that a late September flood ranked as the top local news event of 2010, according to the newspaper.

A successful season by the Faribault High School Emeralds danceline rated as number 10, although I find that rank as a bit of a stretch for a top 10 news story (no disrespect to the Emeralds intended).

While I found the summary of my community’s top news events to be interesting, I was most impressed by the advertising content. Yes, advertising.

All of the ads in this supplement highlight the number of years that local businesses have been in business. Some have been in Faribault for more than 100 years. Those are impressive numbers in today’s economy and impressive personally to someone like me. My hometown of Vesta in southwestern Minnesota was founded in 1900, while Faribault was founded in 1852. Do the math. That’s a 48-year age difference.

Since those triple digit numbers wowed me, I decided to do a little online research into several of the long-time Faribault businesses that advertised in the special section.

Here’s the scoop on some of our oldest businesses, starting with 134-year-old Parker Kohl Funeral Home, 607 N.W. Second Avenue. As you would guess, the business name reflects the merger of two funeral homes (in 1978). Most interesting to me is the fact that Flora Ray Parker joined her dad, David Ray, in operating the Ray Funeral Home, which originated in the 1870s. Later, her son, John Parker, would join the Parker Funeral Home. Was it common for a woman to operate a funeral home back in the day?

 

The offices of Faribault Foods, surrounded last September by floodwaters.

Moving on, I clicked onto the Faribault Foods website and found a detailed timeline showing how this 115-year-old canning company has evolved. “Faribault Foods started in 1895 as a vegetable company. We were known for small-sized, juicy corn kernels, tiny ‘petits pois’ peas and a willingness to do everything we could to please our customers,” I read.

Today, according to the company website, Faribault Foods produces canned vegetables; sauced, refried and baked beans; kids’ and family style pasta; soup; chili; and organic and Mexican specialties. In 2007 it became the largest producer of canned organic soups in the country. I did not know that.

Farmer Seed and Nursery, 818 N.W. Fourth Street, has been around for 122 years and is the historic-looking building you’ll see driving along Minnesota Highway 60 from the west toward downtown Faribault. I didn’t find any history on the website except for this statement: “Serving the needs of America’s gardeners for more than 120 consecutive years.”

Yes, this is the company with the seed catalog that Minnesotans (and other northerners) drool over in the dead cold of winter as they plan their gardens and wish for spring.

Some of Faribault’s other long-time businesses include The State Bank of Faribault, founded in 1919; The Community Co-op Oil Association of Farbault, founded in 1925; the Boldt Funeral Home, here since 1927; and Grampa Al’s, established in 1929.

Many more businesses have been around for six or seven decades. Really, that’s impressive, isn’t it?

 

Burkhartzmeyer Shoes, a third-generation family shoe store in historic downtown Faribault.

If you’ve never been to Faribault, come and check out our community sometime. We have a beautiful, historic downtown with interesting shops, like Burkhartzmeyer Shoes, where they fit your feet for shoes, place the shoes in a box and tie the box with cotton string. They’ll even add a lollipop. That’s what I call old-fashioned service from a third-generation family business of 61 years.

 

The Cheese Cave serves a limited menu and also sells gourmet products, including cheeses made right here in Faribault and aged in sandstone caves along the Straight River two blocks away.

We also have a cheese store, a candy store, antique and specialty shops, a coffee shop, many ethnic and other restaurants, an art center, thrift stores…enough really to provide you with a day of shopping and entertainment in a historic downtown with a decidedly small-town charm and ambiance.

 

Banadir Restaurant, the red building in the center and one of Faribault's many ethnic eateries, is next door to Sweet Spot Candies, where you can buy homemade and other candies and homemade ice cream.

The Paradise Center for the Arts is the cultural hub for theater and art in a historic downtown theater.

A mural, one of several in the downtown area, promotes historic Faribault.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Three dumb moments December 20, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:30 AM
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HAVE YOU EVER SAID, done or believed something that ranks as stupid/dumb/unbelievable, etc., and shortly thereafter realized your mistake/stupidity/gullibility?

Of course you have, and so have I, plenty of times.

In recent days, I’ve had too many of those moments. Can I blame it on holiday stress, lack of sleep or maybe, more truthfully, myself?

We’ll start with Sunday morning church. As the offering plate is passed down my pew, I hand it along to my husband, who typically pulls our offering envelope from his dress shirt pocket and drops it into the plate.

But he’s not doing that. He’s sitting there holding the collection plate, looking at me with one of those looks that only a spouse can give his/her spouse. We’ve been married long enough that I knew exactly what I hadn’t done.

I unzipped my purse, reached inside and grabbed what I thought was the offering envelope and nearly dropped it into the plate before realizing I was offering God $10 off on a $25 purchase at J.C. Penney.

Later Sunday, apparently still in that dumb mode and while dining with my extended family at a soup lunch I hosted, I was convinced by two brothers-in-law that another brother-in-law had scooped the beets for the borscht from the highway. That would be as in sugar beets that had fallen from an overloaded truck.

Why I believed the pair is beyond me. You would think that after nearly 30 years of knowing these two guys I would realize they are sometimes full of…, well, you know. So I asked the brother-in-law who made the beet-laced borscht (soup) if this was true. Of course it wasn’t and a dozen guests had a good laugh at my expense.

Perhaps my recent dumbest moment occurred a few days ago when I was talking with my second-born, who recently moved to Wisconsin. I asked if, when she was Christmas shopping, she could look for a Minnesota Twins long-sleeved shirt for her sister. I couldn’t find any in Faribault and did not want to run all over the area shopping for one given I detest shopping.

“Um, Mom,” she replied. “I don’t think I’m going to find a Twins shirt in Wisconsin. Maybe a Green Bay Packers shirt.”

Honestly, these stories are all true. Really, could I make up anything as stupid/dumb/unbelievable?

IF YOU ARE INTERESTED in publicly sharing any of your similar memorable moments, submit a comment. With the stress of the holidays, we could all use a few more laughs.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Shopping for a Christmas tree December 16, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:32 AM
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AT OUR HOUSE, we never rush out to buy a Christmas tree. For whatever reason, my husband has always been concerned about the tree drying out and becoming a fire hazard. Perhaps he’s justified in his wariness.

However, due to his vigilance, we’ve come very close, several years, to going without a Christmas tree. I recall one December standing in a tree lot just days before Christmas with about five trees to select from. We got a cheap, Charlie Brown tree. If you wait long enough, they practically give the trees away.

If you wait too long, you'll find mostly empty Christmas tree lots, like this one at Farmer Seed & Nursery in Faribault. Fortunately, there were plenty of trees to choose from inside.

This year, though, because of a full schedule, we purchased our tree on the evening of December 14, early by our standards.

A nearby greenhouse offering half-price trees was already closed for the evening, so we headed to Farmer Seed & Nursery in Faribault with a pocketed $5-off coupon. After a quick perusal of the trees, I pronounced that I really didn’t like any of them (in our price range).

My husband muttered something about “a tree’s a tree,” but humored my desire to check out the trees at another greenhouse in town. As we drove by the front side of Farmer Seed, I saw a sign advertising the trees at 25 percent off. I figured I’d just made a mistake by suggesting we search elsewhere. But I did not say this out loud.

So, down the road we headed to the next tree lot, which was closed. My husband, to his credit, did not utter a word of disapproval as I directed that we better return to Farmer Seed with less than a half hour until closing time.

I knew if I was to have a Christmas tree, I needed to find it here, and fast.

I passed on the trees painted an unnatural blue-green. I passed on the short tabletop trees.

I could have chosen from among about a half dozen flocked trees.

I admired the flocked trees but decided they really weren’t my style.

The premium Christmas trees, which are too tall and too costly.

I lingered too long over the magnificent and costly fraser firs that were absolutely perfect but way to big and tall for my living room. I passed on the two trees that were barren of needles in too many spots.

After doing some quick math, I decided we could buy the $44 tree I liked best because, at 25 percent off and with that $5 coupon, it would cost only $31.05. I thought that a bit much, but Randy didn’t. I think he just wanted to get the darned tree and get out of there, because he mentioned something later about cold feet and I then mentioned that I had suggested he wear boots (like me) instead of tennis shoes.

That tree is sitting now, undecorated, in a corner of the living room. By the time Randy got the tree into the house, it was too late to decorate and too cold to decorate. I mean the tree was too cold; it was still thawing. Just stepping near the tree was like stepping into a freezer.

Anyway, that’s how the Christmas tree selection process works at our house.

HOW ABOUT YOU? Do you put up your tree right after Thanksgiving? Or do you wait, like us, until shortly before Christmas? And, even more interesting, how does the selection process go for you? Is it difficult, fun, easy, trying, etc.?

Let’s hear your stories.

P.S. Maybe I’ll post a photo of our tree once it’s decorated.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

My not-so-royal shopping experience June 25, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:11 AM
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DID YOU REALIZE that Walmart has a wedding department? I didn’t…until last night.

While my husband shops for weed killer, I am several aisles away browsing the mish mash of merchandise in the bargain aisle. I am prowling for items that will make suitable game prizes for a family reunion. (Bear with me here; I’m getting to that matrimonial merchandise.) Think humorous here, not necessarily wonderful, prizes.

I finger placemats, examine drinking glasses, grab a small bag of plastic compasses. “Do you think these really work?” I ask my husband, who by this time has found the weed killer, walked half way across the store for an ink cartridge and returned to the discount section.

“Well, if there weren’t so many, I could probably tell,” he says, flipping the compass package in his palm. He tosses the bag back onto the shelf.

I can see he’s getting a bit impatient with me, although I explain that my shopping was stalled by my visit with friends Michelle and Eric, who are also scanning this section.

Half-way down the aisle, I spot a jeweled tiara. I pick up the crown which, except for a tiny, missing center “diamond,” will make the perfect pretty prize for the woman who brings the most beautiful bridesmaid’s dress to the reunion.

We’re going with a wedding theme at the family gathering. Long story on that, but suffice to say that we are celebrating the 20th wedding anniversary of my cousin Jeff and his fictional northwoods bride, Janet. Jeff’s “marriage,” primarily the announcement of said event on April Fool’s Day 1990, is the stuff of family legends. But I digress.

This hefty tiara, which is no cheaply-made, plastic version for some princess’ birthday party, seems quite appropriate for the planned theme. But, as delighted as I am with this find, I encounter one problem. The tiara is unmarked—no bar code, no discount price sticker, no nothing—and there are no other crowns on the shelves.

This spells Cinderella-type trouble. I know that upon reaching the cash register, I will have to wait and wait and wait until someone does a price check. If I’m lucky, that someone will not possess the personality of a wicked step sister.

I am not lucky.

“Did you get this in the wedding department?” asks the clipboard-carrying supervisor who has taken her sweet old time responding to the cashier’s call for assistance.

“Uh, no, I got it in the bargain aisle. I didn’t know you have a wedding section,” I reply.

“Did you know it’s missing a jewel?” she asks, seeming hopeful that I will vanish.

“Yeah, but I don’t care,” I say. “I want it.”

“Were there any others back there like this?” she questions.

I want to say, but don’t, “How stupid do you think I am?” Rather I simply reply, “No.”

Behind me, the line of customers grows. “You might want to go to another check-out lane,” I tell the woman behind me. “This could take awhile.”

“That’s OK. I’m waiting for my husband,” she smiles.

Beside me, my husband fidgets. “Let’s just go,” he states, his voice edged with impatience. He’s not smiling.

“No, I really want this. Don’t be so crabby,” I say, foregoing an explanation of why I need this tiara. He’s tired and not in the mood for an explanation.

My fear now is that the treasured crown, since it originated in the wedding department, will cost more than I am willing to pay.

“Can’t I just have it for a dollar?” I ask the clipboard-carrying supervisor.

“I can’t do that,” she glares.

OK then, sorry I asked, I think to myself.

Eventually, she gives me a price of $3.50. It’s more than I want to pay. But since I’ve made my husband and all those Walmart customers wait, I buy the tiara.

Just for good measure, when we arrive home, I place the crown upon my head and wave a slow, lazy princess wave, first with my right arm and then with my left, turning from side to side as if greeting my subjects.

“I’m Miss Vesta,” I say, referring to my hometown, site of the upcoming family reunion.

“You don’t live in Vesta any more,” my husband notes.

He’s right. But for one night, this night, I deserve this moment. I have, after all, overcome so many obstacles to acquire this crown.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling