Port: Wayne Stenehjem was the best North Dakota had to offer

MINOT, N.D. — The last time I spoke to Attorney General Wayne Stenehjem, I was interviewing him about his retirement.

We talked about his career in the Legislature, where he was instrumental in creating North Dakota's strong open records and open meetings laws, and reforming the state court system.

We talked about his time in the attorney general's office, where he enforced those transparency laws, created North Dakota's crime lab, and fought to protect the state from federal overreach.

After we were done recording the interview, we spent another 30 minutes talking. About the state of the Republican Party. Our families. What a challenge retirement can be for someone who loves their job.

That was Wayne.

Open.

Warm.

Sincere.

Wayne Stenehjem died, suddenly, on Friday at 68 years old. He was winding down his last months as attorney general, and the last year of a political career that spend more than four decades.

It feels odd to write about the man, who was so full of life and energy, in the past tense.

The first time I met Wayne in person was at the Norsk Hostfest here in Minot. I hadn't yet made the leap to writing full time, so I was working in the Home of Economy booth, because I managed their Minot store at the time.

I was up to my elbows in lefse grills, and Wayne walked around the corner with Karl Rove.

Yes, that Karl Rove.

Wayne was proud of his Scandinavian heritage. Rove, who is also of Scandinavian descent, was in Minot to be inducted into the Hostfest's hall of fame. Wayne, who had met Rove when they were both College Republicans, introduced me as the "best political writer in the state," which I might have taken as rank flattery from a less genuine person.

My career intersected with Wayne's tenure as attorney general a lot. I file a lot of open records requests and, over the years, a lot of those records have turned into complaints to Stenehjem's office.

He ruled in my favor, more often than not, and while I didn't agree when he came down on the other side, I always respected his reasoning.

When he'd see me in the audience while he was giving a speech, or when we'd do an interview, he'd often joke that I was his office's "best customer" on open records.

It's strange that, the same day he died, I was in my daughter's classroom at Jim Hill Middle School talking about open records laws and how important they are to sound governance. I'd been invited by her teacher to talk about my job, and I thought something the kids might like to know is how those laws are central to keeping the government accountable.

I talked about how our current attorney general not only helped develop those laws as a lawmaker but has been their fierce enforcer as attorney general as well.

I hope that's a part of his legacy we don't soon forget.

Over the last year, as I had discussions with people about this election cycle, Wayne's name would often come up since he was up for re-election and he was keeping his decision about running for another term close to the vest.

Most people I spoke to thought he'd retire, and when they would tell me this they'd often have a little smile on their faces. A glimmer in their eyes.

I think it was admiration. Maybe a bit of good-natured envy.

How many people have had the sort of consequential career that Wayne Stenehjem had?

How many people can say they served with the integrity and diligence he did?

I think everyone was getting a little enjoyment from thinking about Wayne, having ended a storybook career, embarking on a retirement adventure with his wife, who he adored.

His death was a shock. A genuine tragedy. All the more so because, having given everything he had to give, he didn't get to enjoy his well-earned retirement.

Still, the legacy he leaves behind is a shining example of what public service ought to be, and what it so often isn't today.

Dignified.

Selfless.

Honorable.