I had always felt that Minnesota got shortchanged when it came to glamour, romance, and style. There is very little in the way of panache associated with the North Star State that could compete with the American South and its charismatic music and literature, California with its Golden State image, or the East Coast and New England in all its elegant sophistication.

Ted Kennedy or Elvis could never have come from Minnesota.

When I first came to our nation’s capital in the late 1980s, I pretty much exemplified the stolid outlook associated with residents of my home state, viewing larger than life politicians and other luminaries as little more than a curiosity. Yet, on occasion, I too could fall under the spell of celebrity. Meeting Sen. Ted Kennedy was a prime example.

Though his core responsibilities in the U.S. Senate seldom intersected with my African affairs work, I nonetheless came to know him, mostly on account of his having worked with my uncle from 3M on energy-related matters.

On several occasions I found myself in his private office, marveling at his wall of memorabilia — a pair of red boxing gloves signed by Muhammad Ali, pictures of the Kennedy family and mementos from world leaders.

Happening across Sen. Kennedy traversing the marble halls of Capitol Hill was each time an event. As with catching sight of a bald eagle, no matter how often one spotted him a person couldn’t help but pause and take notice. Ever gregarious, he always went out of his way to greet me by name, cordially placing his arm across my shoulders.

But my greatest reward was those instances when I’d say something that would elicit that renowned Kennedy smile, such as the time I first met the senator and made some off-the-cuff comment about Minnesota charisma being as bland as Norwegian cuisine. Against that famous beam, my impassivity would immediately succumb.

With the passing of Sen. Edward Kennedy, as in the death of my friend Sen. Paul Wellstone, visiting the U.S. Capitol will never be the same.

John Rosenberg

Albert Lea