South Dakotans, especially those of us east river, have always paid attention to Minnesota. We travel there for shopping, ballgames, and weekend getaways. Many South Dakotans cheer for the Twins or the Vikings, and our college students cross the border in both directions. Even Minnesota’s most famous political figure, Hubert H. Humphrey, was born in South Dakota. So it’s natural for South Dakotans to be interested in the political life of our neighbor state, and Perpich: A Minnesota Original provides a welcome opportunity to explore it.
Just as in South Dakota, there is a need for more writing about the political history of Minnesota and the broader Midwest. Our region has produced remarkable and distinctive leaders – often pragmatic, plainspoken reformers shaped by small-town life and big ideas – but too few books capture their stories. I’ve tried to contribute to that effort with The Governors of South Dakota, which I update regularly, and with my book, in progress, on Governor Dennis Daugaard. Jon Lauck has practically rebounded the field Midwestern history in the past couple of decades. Perpich: A Minnesota Original stands squarely in that tradition.
This book is written by Ben Schierer, a former mayor of Fergus Falls and current DFL candidate for Minnesota State Auditor. The other, Lori Sturdevant, is a retired Star Tribune editorial writer and longtime observer of Minnesota politics; and, as it happens, a high school classmate and friend of Dennis Daugaard in Dell Rapids, South Dakota. Together they’ve produced a well-researched portrait of one of Minnesota’s most unconventional governors.
As neighboring states, much of Minnesota’s history runs parallel to South Dakota’s, from the resurgence of the Democratic (or DFL) Party in the 1970s, to the farm crisis and economic downturn of the 1980s, to the reemphasis on economic development into the 1990s.
The similarities between Rudy Perpich and South Dakota’s Bill Janklow are particularly striking. The two governors feuded across the border during the 1980s, but they were, in many ways, kindred spirits. Both came from humble backgrounds and stayed closely tied to their hometowns and childhood friends. Both prided themselves on being more connected to voters than to party establishments. Both were blunt talkers and restless idea men who delighted in breaking political molds. Perpich’s push for open enrollment in public schools, for instance, closely mirrored Janklow’s similar initiative. Each also made a point of appointing women to prominent judicial and executive positions.
Even their personal quirks ran in parallel. Both men served non-consecutive terms, and both had long-running disputes over their official gubernatorial portraits. Perpich wanted two portraits and ultimately got one; Janklow refused to sit for a portrait, but was honored with two after he died.
It’s perhaps no surprise that, as governors, Perpich and Janklow had an ongoing, public feud, only to become friends once they had left office.
Books like Perpich: A Minnesota Original are not lucrative, but they pay cultural dividends. They remind us that politics in the upper Midwest has long been shaped by strong-willed local characters whose ambitions and eccentricities left lasting marks. They also encourage historians, journalists, and public servants alike to preserve and interpret those stories. I’m grateful to Schierer and Sturdevant for doing the work of research and writing, and I hope their example inspires more such efforts—in both of our states.
SoDak Governors 