
ONCE UPON A TIME, long before shopping online became a thing, long before malls and long before the prevalence of big box stores, small town Main Street centered retail commerce.

Mom and pop shops prevailed, mostly meeting a community’s basics needs. But even back in the day, a few chain stores existed. I’m talking five-and-dime variety stores like Ben Franklin and Woolworths.

As a Baby Boomer, I hold fond youthful memories of these two stores. Of buying 45 rpm vinyl singles, nail polish, embroidery patterns, fabric… But even into adulthood I shopped at both, including at Woolworths along Central Avenue in downtown Faribault. Here I bought goldfish (for my kids) scooped from tanks in the back of the store. Here our family bought basics and other goods.
That variety store closed long ago, along with many other businesses that once claimed space in my community. Today Faribault’s downtown looks much different than when I moved here 44 years ago. That’s to be expected. Businesses close. New businesses open. A few endure for generations. As a place and times change, so do its businesses.

But occasionally I discover a place that takes me back to yesteryear in a flashback of memories. That happened recently in the small town of Kasson, just west of Rochester along U.S. Highway 14. While walking through the downtown, I found KLG Store. The name itself told me nothing about the business. But a printed sign in the front window advertising “Kasson Hometown Sausage Sold Here!” drew me inside. Not that I like sausage. I don’t. But I appreciate quirky no-frills signs.


Yet, once inside KLG, I was immediately drawn to cubbies of yarn, then tables and shelves packed with bolts of fabric. I forgot all about the sausage. Instead, I ran my hands across cloth, eyed the colorful prints, remembered my teen years when I stitched nearly all of my clothing.

I haven’t touched my sewing machine in years. For a moment I thought perhaps I should pull it out of storage and resume a creative activity I once loved. Spools of colorful Coats & Clark thread had me visually pairing thread with fabric. Psychedelic prints had me visually pinning and cutting patterns for a seventies fashion statement. Oh, the memories.

Then a stash of vintage collapsible fold-away baskets distracted me, temporarily pausing my fawning over fabric, yarn and embroidery patterns. The red, green and gold fabric and metal baskets with wooden handles are signature five-and-dime store staples.

Turns out KLG once housed a Ben Frankin store. I felt giddy upon learning that, but also a tad melancholy. The fold-away baskets reminded me of the passage of time, of how quickly the decades fly.

This building in some ways still houses a variety store with fabric, yarn and notions; products produced via laser engraving, digital and screen printing; and Kasson Hometown sausage, brats and other meats filling coolers. The hometown sausage, though, is no longer made in Kasson, but rather at Morgan’s Meat Market in Waseca.

Times change. Businesses change. But sometimes remnants of the past remain, like those fold away shopping baskets inside KLG. Durable baskets that took me back in time to Ben Franklin and Woolworths along yesterday’s Main Street.

TELL ME: If you have any special memories of dime stores, I’d like to hear them.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

















































































In appreciation of those protesting in rural areas on No Kings Day March 27, 2026
Tags: commentary, democracy, Minnesota, No Kings Day, opinion, protesting, protests, resistance, rural Minnesota, small towns
ON THIS, THE DAY before nationwide No Kings Day protests, I want to pause and thank the many people in small towns, in the most rural of regions, who are standing up for democracy. Media attention tomorrow will focus on protests in big cities. That coverage is expected. But equally as important are the rallies in communities of a couple hundred or several thousand deep in red territory.
In these places, publicly standing against the Trump administration takes, simply put, guts. Everyone knows everyone in small towns and it’s not necessarily easy to be politically at odds with one another. These are the people you see at the post office, worship with, meet for coffee, work beside, live next door to, do business with.
When those who oppose Trump, his administration and policies protest in rural Republican strongholds, they expose themselves as “the other.” Yet, it is this very public act of defiance and resistance which can get people thinking, start conversations, open doors to change. Now, more than ever, it’s important to fearlessly oppose tyranny. It’s important to stand up for freedom, voting rights, immigrants, justice, due process… It’s important to express concerns about the economy, the war in Iran, the overall state of this country.
Upon looking at a map of all the No Kings Day protest sites in Minnesota, I found many in rural areas. From Madison, population 1,500 and the self-proclaimed “Lutefisk Capital of the USA” near the South Dakota border, to Baudette, population 1,100 and the “Walleye Capital of the World” near the Canadian border, Minnesotans will gather. Even in my deeply red home county of Redwood in southwestern Minnesota, a protest is planned in the county seat of Redwood Falls.
In St. James, also in southwestern Minnesota and a town where I once lived and worked as a regional news reporter for the Mankato Free Press, a No Kings Day event is set. The community of 4,800 is home to many Hispanics and Latinos and was targeted by federal immigration enforcement agents during Operation Metro Surge.
Even Hackensack, in Paul Bunyan’s northern Minnesota lake country, is on the Saturday protest map. That town has a population of just under 300 as does Cyrus, near Morris in far western Minnesota, also holding a No Kings Day protest.
From my community of Faribault, with a population of around 25,000, to Kenyon to the east with some 1,800 residents, to the small towns of Rushford, St. Charles, Spring Grove and Preston in the far southeastern corner of Minnesota, and many small towns and cities across the state, people will gather in protest on Saturday.
In St. Paul, organizers are expecting up to 100,000 to rally at the state capitol. Those are some impressive numbers. Yet, if even five people show up in a small town to protest, that’s impressive, too.
Every voice of resistance matters, wherever you live, rural, suburban or urban.
FYI: The Faribault No Kings Day protest is from 11 a.m.-noon March 28 (and every Saturday) by the Rice County government services building along Minnesota State Highway 60.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling