‘I never wanted to let them down’

“In the end, only three things matter: How much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.” – Buddha

If there was ever any doubt that Jean Zamboni loved much and lived gently and gracefully, consider this:

Nearly 150 people attended the memorial Mass for the Owatonna native who was a teacher, an entrepreneur, a historian, and perhaps most importantly, a powerful advocate for her hometown, wherever she went.

Nearly 150 people, despite the fact that Jean and her twin sister Edith, known as Dede, are survived by just a few family members. Nearly 150 people, despite the fact that most of their contemporaries, admittedly, are long gone.

And nearly 150 people – including Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, who surprised more than a few people with his attendance.

But attending wasn’t even a question, he told the Times last week.

“They were a big part of Owatonna, a big part of Minnesota,” Walz said. “My heart was breaking for Dede; I know she’d spent all but 15 minutes of her life with Jean. She told that story.”

The last 15 minutes

That 15 minutes was between Jean’s arrival and Edith’s surprise appearance back in October 1924, in the house that remained in the Zamboni family for more than 100 years.

Dede spoke of that in the eulogy for her sister, drawing from a book of poetry she’d dedicated to Jean about a decade ago:

“My mirror image identical twin, who, from the first moment (except for the 15 minutes she abandoned me between our births) – has been my most faithful friend, moral supporter/defender for over 90 years…”

On June 11, Dede left Jean’s room at a memory care facility in Rochester, returning to her own home at Assisi Heights.

“I was going to watch ’60 Minutes,’ because it’s what we usually did together on Sunday evening,” Dede said, but a televised golf tournament delayed the program.

“Suddenly, I just got so tired that I got up and made my way to my bedroom,” she said. “I felt tired, but restless, and I must have fallen asleep.”

The call came not long after: Jean had died.

A retired Franciscan nun, Dede said she believes she had “a shared death experience with her. So that was what I got up to say (at the funeral); I just focused on the fact that we had come out even at the end.

“I thought that when Jean was dying and I was not with her, that’s why I had the experience I did; I wanted to be sure everyone knew I made up that 15 minutes,” she said.

“I think people laughed, and that was good.”

The connection

Walz met the Zamboni twins when he started his first run for U.S. Congress in 2005, and, he said, “you couldn’t not fall in love with them when you met them, because they were the most interesting people at any event.”

The twins attended college together, then both traveled extensively for their jobs. Dede was a bilingual teacher at a school she helped establish in Bogota, Colombia, and worked among the poor in the U.S. and Central America.

Jean, too, had a heart for serving people, and spent time in Bogota with Dede. She taught art in several states, was a rural mail carrier and, with her business partner, Alice Ottinger, established OZ Press, where they created original cards and hand-screened serigraphs that became highly sought-after pieces of art.

Walz knew the twins’ bond but may have been unaware that they actually spent nearly 50 years apart.

“Those middle 50 years were gone, but we stayed in touch all the time,” Dede said last week. “Any place that I went, Jean showed up to visit; I was kind of a destination point.

“Even when I was in South America, she volunteered a year with us down there,” Dede said. “She was a very, very generous, special person.”

By 2000, they were together again, living back in the house where they were born.

A few years later, they met Walz.

“When he first came around, he was a teacher – and we were teachers, too,” Dede said. “That was the first connection; he was so … one of us.”

More than politics

“They were highly engaged,” Walz said of the twins. During that first run for office, “I didn’t know the political ins and outs – especially the partisan side of things – and they showed up at these events just caring about politics if it meant improving people’s lives. So, over the years, we did a lot of events together.”

Specifically, Walz said, “we had an ice cream social every summer in Owatonna, and I think they were at every one of those. I just got to know them; we talked school, we talked science, a little bit of everything.

“But their politics was a hopeful politics,” he said, “and it was always about service. What could (they) do to better people’s lives?”

They made such an impression, Walz said, that “my biggest concern was, I never wanted to let them down.”

So when he saw the obituary for Jean Zamboni in the paper, “I just said, ‘this is one where you go to pay your respects,’ obviously for Jean’s life, but I was also just thinking of Dede being alone. I think it’s really important to have these authentic friendships with authentic people – they really keep you grounded.”

Dede became emotional when she heard Walz’s thoughts about their relationship.

“You’re bringing me to tears,” she told a reporter. “I loved having him there. When he first got there, I was able to give him a hug in the midst of the crowd. At the end, as I was leaving the church, I looked over and caught his eye – he was looking at me, I hope – and gave him a wink or a wave or whatever.

“I’m so glad he came,” she said. “That makes him even more special to us.”

“The reality of this is, the best part (of politics) is meeting the people,” Walz said. “That’s not a cliché: That’s how I met the Zambonis. It was through politics, but it was a shared passion around education, around the environment, global travel… We just had a lot of things in common.”

The last Zamboni

The twins were likely Owatonna’s biggest cheerleaders, making appearances at community events and making philanthropic contributions.

Walz laughed about the energy of the tiny duo.

“They are deceptively small, though,” he said, “because they were huge in what they could do and what their influence was. Just to hear about their reach – this small, well-traveled woman had the ears of senators, governors, and business people.”

Now, it’s just Dede, who is the last Zamboni from that family.

“I think (the nuns at Assisi Heights) may have been tired of my leaving and going out, spending so much time” at the memory care facility, she said, “but I was all that Jean had.

“I told them, ‘It’s like going to see Jesus,’ because she was all that I had left, too,” Dede said. “I never realized how special she was.”

As it turned out, the funeral proved that she’s not alone.

“We’re in a time when people are used to reading bad stories, and it seems like everything is negative,” Walz said, “but at this memorial service, there was just a lot of kindness and grace, and I think Jean would’ve really wanted that.”