Minnesota lawmaker Melissa Hortman leaves legacy of hard work, love for her community

Selfless, humble and full of grit -- that was the Melissa Hortman that Minnesota lawmakers grew to love over two decades in the statehouse.

Hortman, the 55-year-old speaker emerita of the Minnesota House of Representatives, and her husband Mark were killed over the weekend when a masked gunman disguised as a police officer shot and killed them at their house. The gunman also wounded State Sen. John Hoffman, a Democrat, and his wife, Yvette. Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz called the shootings an "act of targeted political violence."

Close friends -- many of them her former colleagues -- tell ABC News that they're devastated and bewildered that, in an instant, their confidant, mentor and companion is now gone -- gunned down in her own home in senseless tragedy.

"It's like losing a sister," said Ryan Winkler, choking back tears. Winkler was Hortman's No. 2 in the statehouse, working alongside her since 2019 as the House majority leader. Their professional relationship stretches all the way back to 2007.

As speaker, she presided over several marquee legislative wins for Democrats in 2023 when the party had a one-seat majority. Those wins included universal free school meals, paid family medical leave, expanded voting rights for Minnesotans on probation or parole and moves to codify access to abortion.

Hortman was a member of the state legislature for two decades, elected in 2004 after two unsuccessful bids in 1998 and 2002.

Winkler noted that a majority of Hortman's political tenure was served under some fashion of a politically divided government in Minnesota, which called for her to work with the colleagues across the aisle. She was a relentless negotiator, he says, hard-nosed about policy and passing legislation and largely uninterested in flash, pomp and showmanship. So much so, her colleagues would joke with her that she was often the "adult in the room."

Rich Ginsberg, who works in government affairs and was a friend since Hortman's 1998 run, said Hortman was known as incredibly trustworthy and tenacious, and her death leaves a tremendous gulf both in and outside the statehouse.

"She wasn't throwing bombs ever, but she was always able to make the point and kept Republicans honest. This is such a loss, I can't explain how big of a loss, not personally, only, but just politically," said Ginsberg. "I loved her, her leadership and her qualities were terrific. She's a better person than most of us."

Her legislative interests were broad, but she was particularly proud of her work in 2013 on community solar panels, her former chief-of-staff turned Minnesota House colleague, and dear friend, Rep. Zack Stephenson said.

"Melissa was a good friend and a mentor to me for 20 years. It's, you know, I've lost a member of my family," Stephenson said, crying. "She does leave a huge void, but she took a lot of pride in the people that she recruited to run for public office, the people that she selected to be committee chairs, investing in them, giving them opportunities to grow.

In reflecting on her legacy, Winkler posited that Hortman would probably not be interested in being viewed as the most "consequential" speaker in state history, as others colleagues have lauded publicly, rather, a goal-oriented legislator from working-class origins who was fully committed to advocating for her passions, and shepherding her party forward.

The pair worked in leadership together through the tribulations of the COVID-19 pandemic, the murder of George Floyd and the resulting unrest.

"It was just a very close bond. We went through a time of life that was very hard," added Winkler.

Friends say she had a great sense of humor, sometimes quipping that she grew up on a junkyard -- her father owned an auto parts store, and her family grew up in the working-class northern suburbs of Minneapolis.

Her upbringing played a large hand in inspiring her to run for office in the late 90s, said Stephenson, fueled by inequality in infrastructure and schooling between her hometown and the wealthier suburbs.

"She thought everyone deserved to have a good education. Deserved to have good opportunities," Stephenson said.

But she was not solely a workhorse.

She loved the outdoors and had a passion for animals, especially for her family dog, Gilbert, who she got during the pandemic.

Ginsberg added Hortman was "very comfortable in her skin and her balance of politics and life."

Hortman and her husband raised and trained one other service dog, Minnie, who is now partnered with a veteran, according to a Facebook post from Helping Paws, a nonprofit that helps breed and train assistance dogs. They then received Gilbert, a service dog in training, who ended up getting adopted by the family.

According to friends and neighbors, the suspected gunman shot Gilbert during the murder of the Hortmans. As a result, the Hortman's adult children euthanized their family pet.

Now, those left in the wake of this tragedy, renewed commitment to building a Minnesota that would make their former leader proud.

"It's very difficult, but you know, her life was dedicated to public service, to making the lives of people she never met better," said Stephenson. "There's a lot of us, myself included, who have a renewed commitment to that today that will keep working to make Minnesota as good as Melissa wanted it."