Obituary: Larry Harris, Minneapolis Schools lobbyist, fought for kids on the street

After a teenaged Larry Harris recovered from a mild case of polio and a car accident that had emergency workers giving him up for dead, his legs still pained him.

So he went out for track. "He just kept running and running until the pain went away," granddaughter Melanie Groves recalled him telling her. Eventually he became the top miler for Marshall High School in Minneapolis. Of course, he'd add, he was the school's only miler.

That kind of drive was typical for Harris, who died May 14 at age 81 after multiple illnesses. Harris was a longtime lobbyist for Minneapolis schools, helped form the influential Urban Coalition and served as its first director, and led Hennepin County's anti-poverty agency.

In fact, when Groves eulogized Harris, using his résumé, even his five children were surprised by all he'd accomplished.

"He was so humble," she said. He also worked on behalf of the underdog. Working for Minneapolis Public Schools, he'd stay on the phone late into the night to find alternative schools for students who'd been expelled, so that they could have another chance. His most prized honor was a plaque from the school board awarding him an honorary GED certificate, an honor devised by a group of teen mothers after he'd found money for a program to keep them in school.

It's not that Harris needed a GED. He had degrees in social work from the University of Minnesota and University of Pittsburgh, and was elected Phi Beta Kappa. But he also had street credibility, earned in his three years as a settlement house social worker on the North Side.

"He could talk to legislators. He could talk to gang members," Groves said.

"Larry saw himself as a working-class person," Williams said.

The son of a construction company superintendent, Harris was inconspicuous in a low-income crowd, a 1966 Minneapolis Tribune profile noted, with a battered hat and a raggedy car.

He joined the school district in 1967, specializing in community relations and lobbying. "He was such a fervent advocate for Minneapolis schools," said Wes Skoglund, who met the beetle-browed Harris as a freshman legislator. "He did so much for kids."

He was married for almost 60 years to Marion, who survives him. They met at 14 and married at 21, after he'd flooded her with hundreds of letters during his Army stint in the Korean War. Other survivors include daughters Laura Harris, of Minneapolis, and Susan Harris, of Hopkins; sons Steve, of Scandia, Minn., Mark, of Minneapolis, and Tom, of Minneapolis; 12 grandchildren; and six great-grandchildren. A memorial service has been held.