As an election-week reminder that Minnesotans voted for colorful characters long before choosing a boa-collared wrestler as governor and a TV comedian as a senator, let's flash back 91 years.
Minnesotans had just elected Magnus Johnson as the only Swedish-born U.S. senator ever, filling the seat in the summer of 1923 after Knute Nelson died. Although elected in July, he didn't show up in Washington until October. He picked up his paycheck, scoped out his office and went home. After all, he had to harvest crops on his central Minnesota farm in Kingston Township.
Unlike his wealthy, urbane Senate counterparts, Johnson's background as a poor immigrant farmer made him a bit of a media darling. The New York Tribune's headline after his election: "No yokel and no man's echo."
And Johnson, a vocal advocate for his fellow farmers back home, knew how to stage events to garner publicity. Among the first orders of business once he settled into D.C. that November: challenging Agriculture Secretary Henry C. Wallace to a milking duel. The event would be "dry hand and pail between the knees, with no handicapping."
They took to their stools Dec. 29, 1923, at a government farm in Maryland and Wallace squirted out five gallons from a cow before Johnson could fill his pail. The Minnesota senator insisted he was given a dry cow.
It was one of many races Magnus Johnson lost in a fascinating career that recently morphed into a permanent exhibit at the Dassel History Center, about an hour west of the Twin Cities. The display chronicles "Magnus' good work, his wisdom, loyalty to his peers as well as his great and earthy sense of humor."
To wit: When he was giving a speech on a farm near Kingston, there was no podium. So he orated from a manure spreader, saying he'd given speeches on boxcars and cabooses but until that day, he'd never spoken from a "Republican platform."
Johnson demanded a rematch two days after losing his cow-milking duel. Round 2 ended in a tie, after which Johnson challenged the ag secretary to a woodcutting contest.