Some very nice friends invited us to their cabin up near Fergus Falls last weekend. We had a great time relaxing and playing around on the lake.
On Saturday afternoon, my husband and I drove from the cabin over to Battle Lake to pick up some marshmallows for s’mores later that night. On our way there, we realized that Henning — the small town where my Dad grew up — was just 15 miles past our marshmallow stop.
After we got our goods, we headed on to Henning (a thank you to my husband for coming up with the idea to go and for being game to do it). I called my Dad on our way and told him we were headed to his childhood hometown. I asked him how long it had been since he had visited the town and he said, “About 40 years.” His parents and siblings have all passed away, so he is the only one left to remember the family’s stomping ground.
Once we got into town, he guided me (via my cell phone) to his family’s old house. Then to the house where his baby sister was born. To the large Baptist church in town. And to the small Lutheran Church — now closed and deteriorating — where his family attended.
I snapped as many pictures as I could.
It was neat listening to my Dad tell me where to go, what to look for, and what I was seeing. Maybe we can go up and visit the town together next time. I think that would be very nice.
