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Here’s a vivid memory of a shared holiday table a century ago when food for many was especially scarce — just as it still is for millions of people, government shutdown or no government shutdown.
I worked for Minnesota Gov. Al Quie in the early 1980s. I would come to write his biography when he turned 85, which turned out to be 15 years before he died exactly one month short of his 100th birthday, in 2023. A story he told me one morning when we were working on the book still gets whatever hairs might remain on the back of my neck to stand and salute.
When Quie was a boy and broke bread with his parents, sisters and brother on the family farm in Nerstrand, in southern Minnesota, they almost always did so in the kitchen, not the dining room. The dining room was reserved for special occasions and holidays such as Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. Or when their minister came for supper.
Or, when hungry people looking for food trudged to the farm.
“When I look back now,” Quie said of his parents in our first of more than 20 conversations for “Riding into the Sunrise,” “I talk of a woman of grace, a woman of gospel, because she just reached out to everyone. They had hoboes then who would come off the train, and they would know to come to our house, and she would feed them in the dining room. Dad and the kids ate with them there and Mother served us. I look back and wonder, ‘How did those two do that?’ Dad would say, ‘If I were a hobo, that’s the way I would want to be treated.’ “ That’s the line that always gets me best.
A short time later in that conversation, Quie added, “People who have virtually nothing need more than food for the body. What’s important to their soul are dignity and respect. Mother and Dad had the grace to understand that.”