t has been one year since the death of Minnesota Senator Paul Wellstone. He, his wife, daughter, three campaign staffers and two pilots died in a plane crash near the Eveleth-Virginia Municipal Airport. Last year at the time, I was working out in a Minnesota Congressional office in Washington D.C. Part of my duties were to give guests tours of the Capitol building. Of course, I would brig the visitors into the House and Senate galleries. One of the most memorable days was when I witnessed the Senate’s vote on the war in Iraq. Many concerned Minnesotans had called our office with their thoughts on the situation. Many were voicing their opinions on the topic and didn’t want us to send our nation’s young men and women into this dangerous territory. Others thought we had bigger world concerns, and others were just pacifists. Knowing the feelings of my fellow Minnesotans, this day in the Senate was particularly interesting for me. I was giving a tour to cadets from the Naval Academy. We watched and located Senators from their various states. We witnessed each Senator walking up to the clerk to register their vote. I was particularly proud when Sen. Wellstone entered the chambers. “That is my Senator,” I told the group. I remembered there was something very different about Sen. Wellstone that day. He stood off on the sidelines as his colleagues cast their votes. I hung on the edge of my seat wondering what he would do and how he would vote. Knowing his re-election campaign was in full swing, I knew this vote was very important to him and the people in our state. After awhile, Sen. Wellstone finally approached the clerk. “Senator Wellstone, nay,” she called. I was very satisfied with my Senator at that moment. I knew how much was riding on this vote and what risks his decision may bring. Standing inches shorter than the other politicians, Sen. Wellstone’s height grew in confidence. Even as he limped out of the chambers, the Senator walked with pride knowing he personally made the right choice. I was honored to show the group this was my Senator. The next time I went to the Senate chambers was after Wellstone’s plane crash. A black drape hung over his senate desk with a vase of white flowers. While the mood was tense during the vote, it seemed to change to grief during this visit. Senators stood up and shared their memories with Wellstone. Many of them commend him on standing alone on issues. They talked about how Sen. Wellstone would be the one or two votes against in a 99-1 or 98-2 vote. They really honored him for casting these votes even though he knew he was on the losing end. I also had the opportunity to attend a memorial service for the late senator. My colleague and I walked through the rain to the church where the service was held. People were lined up under umbrellas waiting to get in. When we approached the entrance, we heard that the church was full, and that the parish didn’t expect this type of turnout. Everyone was given programs and an invitation to come back to a later service. During the weeks following Wellstone’s death, many people spoke with me about Paul Wellstone as a man and as a politician. If they heard I was from Minnesota, they stopped to initiate a conversation with me and praise our representative. I was honored to have such a great senator from our state. The whole experience taught me that we should be passionate about our work. By having this passion, people will respect the job we are doing, even if they disagree with personal opinions. I think that is the type of respect that everyone needs and deserves in their line of work.
