Savage Words: Welcome home, Senator. And thank you.

I wasn’t entirely certain what to expect last week when I entered the doors of the Minnehaha Country Club in Sioux Falls for a homecoming.

I worked for U.S. Senator Larry Pressler early in my career. When the Senator was named Chairman of the United States Senate Committee on Commerce, Science & Transportation after his election win in 1994, he brought in a host of South Dakotans to work on his staff in that committee.

I was a 25-year-old, inexperienced kid who was named Deputy Press Secretary for the Committee. I learned a lot, mostly because I didn’t know a lot.

I received my journalism degree from USF just a few years earlier, and I went to Washington, D.C. with high hopes and lofty goals. But again, I knew very little.

Early in my time in Washington with Pressler, I’ll never forget a meeting I had in his office. I told him and others in that meeting that I had aspirations of becoming a national writer on some level. Even if that meant an occasional story in a national publication, it was something I wanted to work towards.

After the meeting, and I have no idea who came up with the idea, I was given an assignment to write an Op-Ed piece for the Senator about Landsat Satellites from EROS Data Center.

Op-Ed stands for Opposite of the Editorial page, and is devoted to a commentary. Essentially, it would be a story written by the Senator that had the chance to run in various national publications.

A Landsat Satellite is…I have no idea.

I didn’t know then, I really don’t know now.

But, I was given the nod to take a crack at the Op-Ed.

So I researched it. Researched it a ton. For as much as I researched it, it’s obvious I was meant to concentrate on sports because I really don’t remember anything about it.

I cranked out a first draft and presented it to the Senator. It didn’t go well.

He didn’t care for it, and he wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t good, and I knew it. 

But rather than raise his voice, he put the draft down and responded with a simple, ‘how about we try this,’ and then proceeded to give me some ideas.

That practice went through seven versions. But finally, after seven attempts, the Op-Ed ran in the New York Times. It was under his name on the byline of course, but I really thought I’d conquered the world at 25 years of age when I had written work appear in the Times.

I got a little cocky, a little overconfident after that story ran. I walked the halls of the Russell Senate building where our offices were with a little too much swagger.

About a week later, Pressler’s Chief of Staff – Doug Miller – called me to his office and told me he had a very important envelope that needed to be delivered to Pressler on the U.S. Senate floor. He handed it to me – a large, yellow, bulky manila envelope.

I took it with pride, assuming I was now entrusted with delicate information that needed to get to the Senator in a hurry. Cocky, overconfident, swagger – it all caught up to me a few minutes later.

As I made my way to the Senate floor, the contents of the envelope were gnawing at me. I had to look, and I did.

The contents inside might have been the most humbling experience of my career. A hair brush, a handheld mirror, and some hair spray stared back at me. The Senator was about to do a television interview, and I was the beautician who brought the goods. 

I’ve subsequently had a few things appear in the New York Times, but that was the first one, and I’ve never forgotten it. The Senator could have been short with me during my seven drafts, but he wasn’t. He never raised a voice, he always offered encouragement. That, too, I’ve never forgotten.

Last week, the 82-year-old moved back to South Dakota, the state he represented so honorably for nearly 50 years, for good. A surprise party was planned at the country club where former staffers gathered to welcome him home.

There was an amazing amount of experience and knowledge in that room. I actually felt 25 years old again, being around so many people that I had worked with – and so many more that were with the Senator for very crucial moments and decisions. Trust me, they were dealing with more than hair brushes and mirrors during their time with him.

Everyone had a chance to speak. My few moments were spent on a trivial envelope carried by a cocky rookie. Other stories were fascinating and many intrigued me. I had no idea so many things went down in Washington while I was there.

The stories varied, but there was one common thread: everyone’s acknowledgement of his mentorship and all that Larry Pressler did for South Dakota.

“You taught us all so much,” said former staffer Lisa Richardson. “You had such an impact on the state of South Dakota. You have been an incredible leader, full of character. You knew what mattered, and at the end of the day, made those right decisions. I just want to say, ‘Thank you, Senator.’”

Kevin Schieffer, another one of the Senator’s former Chiefs of Staff, drove Pressler back home after the event last week. Schieffer sent all of us that were at the event an email, quoting the Senator.

It read: “If I live to be 100 and after I don’t know my own name, I will never forget this evening. Thank you.”

No, Senator…thank you. And welcome home.