By Mike Kaszuba
An hour before Mark Dayton arrived at the Country Kitchen in Winona -- the fourth stop on a long day crisscrossing Minnesota by air -- there was little evidence that he was on the way. The parking lot was empty, a man slowly mowed his yard and the biggest draw on a warm Friday afternoon was the nearby liquor store, where 24 packs of light beer were on sale for $14.97 and a stream of cars chugged in and out.
But next to a sign that announced the Country Kitchen was hiring grill cooks and kitchen staff was a bigger sign that read simply: Welcome Mark Dayton.
That was enough for Marilynn Horness, who was wheeled into the restaurant by her daughter and was dressed like she was going to church on Christmas morning -- a bright red blazer, white beret and sunglasses. In the 1950s, Horness had worked in downtown Minneapolis at Dayton's, the iconic department store once owned by the Dayton family. "Going to the store and shopping [was] like going home to me," she said, recalling a life left behind a half-century ago.
She had never met Dayton, the man now running for governor, but her eyes lit up when he finally popped into the room. "He's gotten a little grayer, [but] he'd look good to me no matter what," she said. Dayton introduced himself, listened to her story of having worked at Dayton's and then bent down and kissed her hand.
There were 50 in the restaurant who came to hear Dayton, most of them gray-haired and nodding in agreement as the candidate, wearing a navy blue blazer, hopped among the issues. Minnesota needed to spend more money on education, needed to better promote the use of ethanol and, just maybe, needed a state-owned casino to help raise revenue. A ceiling fan twirled above Dayton's head and the TV, turned to Fox News, was on mute.
"This is the biggest crowd of the day," said Katie Tinucci, Dayton's deputy campaign manager. There were slightly more than 20 who greeted Dayton in Hallock earlier Friday, she said, but fewer in Luverne.
As Dayton talked Abby Michaud, a Republican tracker, recorded his every word with a camera mounted on a tripod. She had started the day with Dayton in Grand Marais on the North Shore, where the temperature was in the 40s, and driven all the way to Winona along the Mississippi River by 5 o'clock, where it was now in the low 80s. "I'm not supposed to talk to any press," she said, packing to leave.