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The hardest part about living in Minnesota isn’t the weather, it’s pretending we don’t care who’s the most important. Of course we care. We argue about it in deer stands, at hockey rinks, on fishing boats, and in those endless coffee klatches where the waitress already knows you want burnt diner coffee before you sit down.
So here it is: the 10 Minnesotans who defined the last half-century. No Paul Bunyan. No Mary Tyler Moore statue. Just the names that bent the state’s arc, gave us miracles, titles, dynasties, and headaches. And then, because the future doesn’t stop at Prince’s guitar riff, I’ll give you the Young Lions — the next generation already sharpening their claws.
The Top Ten
Prince — He didn’t just put Chanhassen on the map; he put Minnesota on MTV. “Purple Rain” was a weather event here, not an album. He stayed when everyone told him to leave, and in doing so made this state cool. The most famous zip code we’ve got isn’t 55401. It’s Paisley Park.
Bob Dylan — Hibbing’s own bard, the one who proved you could grow up in a mining town and change the world with a scratchy guitar and a sneer. He bolted, but the Iron Range rasp never left him. Half a century later, the Nobel was just catching up to what Minnesotans already knew.
Walter Mondale — Fritz was the conscience in a suit. Carter’s vice president, nearly president himself, and for decades afterward the sober reminder that decency in politics wasn’t a punchline. He told you the truth, even when it cost him.
Paul Wellstone — Green bus, big heart, and a voice that made the powerful nervous. He pulled progressive politics out of seminar rooms and into union halls, farm kitchens, and picket lines. His 2002 death froze his legend mid-sentence, but the question he left — “Who’s he fighting for?” — still haunts every budget meeting in St. Paul.
Herb Brooks — He didn’t invent Minnesota hockey, but he weaponized it. The 1980 Miracle on Ice was hatched in our rinks, where he convinced scrappy kids they could out-skate the Soviets. His gospel — grit over pedigree — still drives every 5 a.m. practice in this state.
Kirby Puckett — Short, round, grinning — and he carried the entire metro on his back. The wall-climb catch, the Game 6 homer, the World Series parades down Hennepin. Complicated legacy? Sure. But nobody else made baseball in Minnesota feel like family reunion fireworks.
Lindsay Whalen — From Hutchinson to the hardwood, she dragged the Lynx into a dynasty and made winning feel routine in a state allergic to it. She’s our greatest basketball ambassador, the one who made little girls believe the WNBA wasn’t a novelty but an empire.
Alan Page — Name another NFL Hall of Famer who became a Supreme Court justice. I’ll wait. He dominated the line, then dominated the law. And the Page Education Foundation keeps paying it forward. That’s a one-two punch no one else has landed.
Jesse Ventura — Laugh all you want. He won. A wrestler turned governor who rattled every suit in St. Paul and proved Minnesotans sometimes like to vote with a middle finger. He cracked the mold and made outsider politics real. Without Jesse, there’s no playbook for today’s media candidates.
Ilhan Omar — The first Somali American in Congress, Omar embodies a Minnesota transformed by immigration and diversity. Polarizing? Absolutely. Historic? Undeniably. She globalized Minnesota politics whether we were ready or not.
The Young Lions
History doesn’t stop. A new crop is circling, ready to muscle their way into this list if their arcs keep climbing. You know some. You might not know others. But you will.
Sports & Culture
Paige Bueckers — Hopkins legend turned UConn phenom. She’s smoother than summer ice and fearless to boot. If injuries don’t slow her, she’ll be the Whalen heir — only with national branding power that makes her bigger than the sport itself.
Brock Faber — Maple Grove kid, now wearing the “C” for the Wild. At 22. That doesn’t happen unless you’re the real deal. He’s the kind of defenseman who could finally drag this franchise out of mediocrity and into something resembling glory.
Chet Holmgren — Seven feet tall, all elbows and unicorn talent. From Minnehaha Academy to the NBA lottery, Holmgren might be the first true Minnesota-born superstar to own the league. If he stays healthy, watch out.
Suni Lee — The St. Paul gymnast who won Olympic all-around gold in Tokyo, the first Asian American to ever do it. Her story — Hmong roots, backyard beam, global stage — is pure Minnesota miracle. Already a role model, still only 22.
Anthony Edwards — He’s Atlanta-born, but he’s ours now. Ant is the Timberwolves’ present and future. If he delivers the playoff run we’ve been starved for, he’s top-ten bound. He’s the rare superstar who actually seems to like being here.
Politics & Civic Life
Peggy Flanagan — Ojibwe, lieutenant governor, and one of the highest-ranking Native American women in U.S. politics. At 45, her story’s just getting started. She’s reshaping how tribal sovereignty and state government work together. If she climbs another rung, she’ll be a giant.
Melvin Carter — St. Paul’s first Black mayor, still young, still building his legacy. Smooth, ambitious, progressive, and just the right mix of grassroots and establishment savvy. If he leaves St. Paul, it’s likely for bigger things.
Angie Craig — A congresswoman who’s survived suburban swing-district wars with grit. Former health care exec, now a D.C. survivor with national potential. She’s got the résumé of someone who could become a defining moderate voice when the middle finally matters again.
Abdirahman Kahin — Afro Deli founder, the first Minnesotan to win a James Beard Award for Outstanding Restaurateur. He’s not just selling sambusas — he’s exporting a new Minnesota identity, one plate at a time. Think about it: the state that once bragged about hot dish is now bragging about Afro Deli. That’s culture shift.
Beth Ford — Land O’Lakes CEO. She blends old Minnesota cooperative roots with national stage leadership. Not “young” in age, but in terms of long-term impact, she’s modernizing what corporate Minnesota looks like.
Michael Goze — Quiet but powerful. As head of the American Indian Community Development Corporation, he’s steering business, housing, and healthcare work that changes lives daily. His impact may not make headlines yet, but it’s rewriting urban Minnesota in slow ink.
James Burroughs — Chief equity officer at Children’s Minnesota. He’s shaping the healthcare equity conversation that’s only going to get louder. If Minnesota becomes a national leader in closing racial gaps in medicine, he’ll be one of the reasons.
The ten giants of the last half-century gave us the soundtrack, the miracles, the dynasties, the heartbreaks. But the Young Lions are writing the next verse — whether in gyms, rinks, city halls, or boardrooms. Some will flame out. Some will stumble. But a few are going to claw their way onto that top list, and when they do, we’ll argue about them the same way we argue about Puckett or Prince.
That’s the beauty of Minnesota. We’re a chorus, not a solo. We fight about who mattered most because deep down we know — the state is bigger, stranger, louder, and prouder than any one list.
But if you’re still mad, well, pull up a chair at the diner. I’ll order the burnt coffee. You can try to tell me why Suni Lee won’t end up bigger than Herb Brooks.
