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There’s usually nothing better than summer Saturday mornings in Minnesota. But not this past one. I got up early to join friends at Saint City Running. I try not to check my phone while I’m running (and I’m not really in good enough shape to multitask midstride). But when we finished in Highland Park around 8:30 and I finally checked in on what my iPhone had to say, I could hardly believe the unspeakable news my text messages announced through the rain and sweat drenched screen.
Two state lawmakers and their spouses had been shot in their homes. I was gut-punched with heartache, confusion and anger. Evil remains very much alive and well — even in a state full of so much goodness.
The assassination of Minnesota House Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman, DFL-Brooklyn Park, leaves behind an indescribable loss for the people she so admirably served and the political world she loved and navigated with such talent. The GOP lost ground in many a budget battle thanks to her keen intellect and shrewd negotiation skills. While I did not know her, many of my Republican friends did and without fail the adjective “kind” makes its way into every description from them of Hortman. Her life is a lesson modern politics needs to heed: Strong leaders with lasting legacies can be civil and courageous enough to compromise when the times call for it. The speaker preferred smiling instead of sneering. She laughed instead of shouted. It was a lovely brand of politics that Hortman practiced, and I will miss it.
I have never met Sen. John Hoffman, DFL-Champlin, who along with his wife survived the shootings, but am joining my fellow Minnesotans in a collective sigh of relief that he survived this nightmare and will hopefully be returning to the State Capitol sometime soon. But I did know of him, not as a rising star in the DFL — the spotlight and higher office doesn’t interest him too much — but instead as a substantive and policy focused legislative workhorse. He has been an unyielding champion for the poor and the powerless and the unwell. I know that firsthand from his steadfast friendship with Minnesota’s recovery community. Minnesota needs him and more elected officials like him.
I haven’t been able to shake the question on my mind since Saturday: What do we do with this dark chapter — one of the very saddest — in Minnesota history? While wickedness and violence have always been a part of this fallen world and always will be, the Bible promises hope that there can be “beauty for ashes.” I have faith that can be the case here too.
We can start by committing ourselves to ridding politics of the toxicity that has come to overwhelm it. The monster who committed these heinous crimes probably needed no rationale to do his killing but is the kind of vile creature will always do harm unless put behind bars. But political violence is surely becoming too common, and the untenable enmity that exists at all points on the political spectrum isn’t helping. No one is winning America’s seemingly constant culture war. It’s just making us coarser and crueler year after year.