‘God in all this’

It was a small group that gathered on a recent Sunday morning at Rice Lake Church, but its vision is big.

“I went to church here when I was a kid,” said Donna Ballstadt. “I lived just down the road – and I married a boy who lived right next door here.”

It was a similar story for Lois Sprandel, who is a double cousin to Ballstadt.

“This is my church I went to, Sunday school and Bible school,” Sprandel said.

They were back inside for worship, listening to a Bible study given by Al Hovey. Afterwards, they gathered with the others, admiring the newly restored building.

The two pored over photo albums that Ballstadt had compiled, recalling family names and spotting their relatives in photographs dating back to the 1920s.

As families and ministers left the area, the little white church fell into disrepair. A fire furthered the damage.

But roots in a church run deep, and the people in Steele and Dodge counties have long memories.

It took more than 15 years – and, by some accounts, more than a quarter-million dollars – but the little church that withstood decades of neglect and damage is back.

And arguably better than ever.

It spent several weeks hoisted six feet in the air, necessary for the new footings, concrete foundation, and crawlspace with a cement floor to be completed. The foundation is faced with “slices” of the original limestone that supported the church.

The building itself was also a mess.

“My brother and I were standing here one day, and the walls were bowing in and out, just from the wind,” said Steve Ballstadt. He’s one of Donna’s sons who worked on the restoration project.

“I don’t even know how many hours, how many donations went into this,” he said.

The work

The walls were reinforced with angle irons, and the collapsing chimney was raised four inches, with added support provided inside.

The old siding and original boards were removed; new plywood and insulation were installed before the steel siding and new windows went in. The roof is new. The floor is new.

While that may seem like a lot of “new,” the historic charm remains.

The trim around the windows was matched to the original. The pews were meticulously recreated, though the arm caps and back rails of each pew are original.

Those projects required a custom knife for the molding machine that was used to do the woodwork.

Gone also is the wood stove which once heated the building; Ballstadt and a crew installed a furnace – and hid the accompanying ductwork by building out the walls a bit.

Part of the Ballstadt family lore is that when Donna was a child, she would run next door to the church to build a fire on wintry Saturday evenings, ensuring the building would be warm for service the next morning.

On the flip side, the building now has central air conditioning, making those August weddings a little less sultry.

And perhaps the most important addition: An indoor restroom.

The savior

While most of the big work has been done as finances allow since 2006, the real savior of the little church that served the long-gone village of Rice Lake was Gladys Wincell.

She was the one who, back in 1974, learned that the church – where her husband had been baptized back in 1914 – was for sale by the last group that had used it. It was in tough shape, of course.

Asking price: $1,600 – about $9,500 today.

Wincells formed the Rice Lake Church Restoration and Preservation Group, which bought the building. The consensus was clear: Don’t raze it or move it. Work proceeded in fits and starts, but a fire in 2000 – no pun intended – sparked interest anew.

An ember from a Minnesota Department of Natural Resources (DNR) planned fire in the adjoining state park landed on the roof of the fragile building, causing further damage from the fire and water used to extinguish the flames.

Wincell rallied the troops once again: A newspaper story from November 2000 said she “is helping to lead the effort to restore the church.”

It started with a new roof, paid for in part by the DNR because of that errant ember.

But seven months later, Wincell died; she’s buried at the cemetery behind the church.

The village

We’ve all heard the saying “it takes a village…”

In this case, the village died off years ago, when the railroad came through, taking with it every piece of Rice Lake – except the church.

It was built in 1878; Methodists had established their congregation about 20 years before and were able to immediately pay the $2,000 construction costs.

Though the village died off, the families remained in the area, and they weren’t the only people who wanted to save the structure.

History buffs joined the group, including those who have no connection to the area.

“My brother and I were outside looking at something,” Ballstadt said, “and a car drove past.”

It turned around and came back; the two women inside asked the men about the church and its restoration. One of them asked Ballstadt to give her a call the next time a crew was working.

They did, and the woman spent the day working alongside them in the dirt and dust.

“At the end of the day, she handed me a check for $10,000,” Ballstadt said. It was a gift from the other woman, who also appreciated what was happening.

Soon, another check appeared, this one for $40,000.

The financial donor, who asked to remain anonymous, “paid for our well and septic system out here, and more, with that money,” Ballstadt said.

“All of that, just because they happened to drive by,” his mother said. “That was God in all this.”

An 80-year-old man from the area made the large cross that hangs above the altar.

“The amount of work and love that’s gone into this place is just phenomenal,” Ballstadt said.

A big chunk of the labor, equipment, supplies, and engineering costs was donated. The group has held so many fundraisers that a 220-volt outlet was installed “just for the ice cream maker,” Ballstadt laughed.

“A lot of this was built on cookies,” said his wife, Linda. “A lot of cookies.”