Gov. Tim Walz gave what was surely the most challenging speech of his political career Sunday, both in the complexity of the message and the bizarre setting — he delivered his remarks in the basement of the governor’s residence where he is under quarantine after a member of his security detail contracted COVID-19. 

The first term DFL governor had to make clear why he’s taken such drastic steps to curb the pandemic and give some inkling that the measures are working and will end, but without giving any false hope.  

His approach was to begin with a somber acknowledgment of what Minnesotans have already sacrificed. “Vacant streets. Deserted classrooms. Empty pews,” he said. 

And he warned of difficulties ahead: “We are used to long winters in Minnesota. We are resilient people with a deep reserve of courage, optimism and grit. But this will be a winter like we’ve never seen before.” 

Walz — a Nebraskan by birth — carries the convert’s devotion to Minnesota, and he quickly pivoted from dark portents to the Minnesota exceptionalism that is a hallmark of his political brand. He name dropped the Iron Range and the Rondo, ice hockey, Mayo Clinic and Minnesota companies Medtronic and 3M, in a subtle response to President Donald Trump’s criticism of the company in recent days.  

“Our blood saved the Union at Gettysburg. Our iron forged the tanks that liberated Europe. Our farmers sparked a green revolution that fed the world. Our imagination transformed medicine — and appears poised to do so once again,” he said.”The state of our state is strong.” 

Normally voluble and extemporaneous, Walz used a prepared text and spoke for just 12 minutes.

Bob Hume, the deputy chief of staff to former Gov. Mark Dayton, said Walz succeeded: “These speeches are really difficult to land under perfect circumstances, so to say that he threaded a needle on the head of a pin in the middle of a hurricane would be a fair description of what he did tonight.”

State government’s most important Republican, Senate Majority Leader Paul Gazelka, said in a video released before the Walz address that he is “walking hand-in-hand, arm-in-arm” with Walz. 

The governor took aggressive and early action to stop the spread of the coronavirus by canceling large events, closing restaurants and finally ordering Minnesotans to stay at home about 10 days ago. Combined with the state’s relative geographic isolation, those measures may be the reason Minnesota has one of the lowest per capita rates of infection in the nation. 

Walz’s resume was made for the moment. He spent 24 years in the Army National Guard, for whom disaster preparedness and response are practically their entire raison d’etre. 

As a football coach, he motivated his charges. As a geography teacher at Mankato West High School, he patiently explained world events — like pandemics — to his students. As a lunch room attendant, he had to be both forceful and restrained.   

As the ranking Democrat on the U.S. House Committee on Veterans’ Affairs, he worked with Republicans to fix the complicated mess of the VA medical system and its technology failures. 

Walz brought all of these experiences to the speech, plus a little bit of Mr. Rogers, seated in a wing chair, donning a sweater under a blazer.   

Walz faced a difficult paradox in the state-of-the-state address, which was already delayed once because of the pandemic. He had to rouse Minnesotans — not to action, but inaction. 

He equated doing nothing with energetic communitarianism that Minnesotans often show when storms and floods batter the land. 

“Minnesotans are hardworking people who step in to help. In many storms, that means plowing out your neighborhood, filling sandbags, or trudging through the snow to check on your loved ones. Now that means staying home. What you are doing isn’t paralysis — it’s action,” he said. 

The other paradox for Walz is that the more his extreme policies work to stop the pandemic, the louder will become the calls to reverse them. 

“We appreciate the steps Gov. Walz has taken and we would like him to grant flexibility for those who can work safely,” House Minority Leader Kurt Daudt, R-Crown, said after the Walz address. 

Walz may have one of the toughest jobs in Minnesota right now. 

And even after the pandemic relents, the job will get no easier: With nearly 10% of the Minnesota workforce laid off, a regional recession has already begun, which means Walz will have to manage shrinking revenues and the skyrocketing costs of helping people now out of work. 

Given the frightening images out of Italy, Spain and New York City, however, Walz probably looks forward to a day when a budget shortfall is his biggest concern.

Walz 2020 State of the state by jpcoolican on Scribd